Under the Orange Moon

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Under the Orange Moon Page 26

by Adrienne Frances

“I will try,” she beamed.

  The doors slid open and Ben took off down the hallway. He stopped at Dylan’s room and leaned against the door with his hand. He caught his breath and realized he had no clue what it was that he wanted to say or even how to get it out.

  He paced back and forth as he ran his hands over his wet hair and straightened out his drenched clothes. He was a coward.

  The door swung open and Dylan’s face peered out. “What are you doing?” she asked sternly.

  “Hey,” he said, nearly leaping backwards.

  She looked him up and down, eyeing his wet clothes and hair. “Hey,” she said back, keeping the door closed just to a space big enough for her head.

  “I wanted to—” He couldn’t say it.

  “Yes?” Dylan asked pointedly. She would make this difficult for him. “You wanted to what, Ben?”

  “I don’t have any excuses for anything I’ve done, but if I could just have another chance,” he paused to look down and hide the tears in his eyes, “I would make it up to you, or try at least.” He surprised even himself. He exhaled as he looked at her and waited.

  “Ben,” Dylan began. “I don’t think now is—”

  Ben put his hand up and placed it against the door. He leaned closer to her face. “Don’t say that now isn’t a good time. Please. You know me better than anyone, Dylan, and I know you, just the same.”

  “I don’t know you at all, Ben. And you never knew me.”

  “No. You’re wrong. You’re the girl who loves pink but won’t admit it because you’re afraid it will make you sound too girly. You’re afraid of moths because you think they’ll eat your hair, and you hate chalk.” He pounded his hand on her door and his eyes grew painful, but he couldn’t stop. “You secretly love Harry Potter movies, and when you were ten you fell off your bike and I carried you home. When your dad died, you only wanted me and you cried in my lap. I stopped skateboarding because you were better and I was embarrassed. God, you even throw a football better than me.” He drew in a long breath, adding, “And, finally, I’m an asshole, but you loved me anyway.”

  When she didn’t say anything, Ben desperately blurted, “I’m going to quit school and my internship. I’m moving back to Phoenix to be close to you. You mean more to me than anything else.”

  Clearly stunned, Dylan turned her face from his. She closed her eyes, sending a thick tear rolling over her cheek that ripped a piece of Ben’s heart as it fell.

  “Okay,” Ben said with a nod. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t go the rest of my life without saying that to you.”

  “You can come in,” she said before he could turn away. “It’s raining pretty hard outside and you’re a mess.” She held the door wider and waited for him to walk through.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, and slid past her.

  Dylan closed the door and inhaled discreetly. Her heart was pounding with a ferocious thud inside her chest. He was really there and this was really happening.

  Ben looked around the suite and laughed nervously. “This is different. I like it.”

  “I couldn’t believe he put me in a place like this,” she agreed. “I wasn’t expecting it. Then again, a lot has been happening lately that I never expected.”

  “You deserve it,” he said quietly. “I always knew someone would eventually see how talented you are.”

  He watched her with intent in his stare. He was a dripping mess, but hardly seemed to notice the puddle that was forming beneath him. He looked glorious, of course.

  “So, the bathroom is over there. You can hang up those wet clothes and put on the robe that’s hanging on the back of the door,” Dylan offered as casually as possible.

  “Thank you,” Ben said, and made his way past her and into the bathroom.

  Moments later, he came out with the robe on, and Dylan tried desperately to smother the laughter she could feel emerging. She had never seen him in such an outfit. It was a fluffy white debacle.

  “Don’t laugh,” he warned with a smirk.

  “Take that off right now,” she teased. “I can’t talk to you in that thing.”

  Ben nodded and removed the robe, reminding Dylan just how beautiful he was. He slipped onto the sofa and ran a throw over his waist.

  “Is that better?” he asked with a flushed look of embarrassment.

  “God, yes,” she said with a giggle.

  She sat and stared at him for what seemed like forever. She could hate him for how perfect he was, for how handsome and lucky he had always been. He got everything he wanted and, if she gave in to him tonight, that would only prove her theory more. But this was her happiness as well. It was an agonizing decision. She could cross the distance between them, and slide into his arms, or she could throw him a pillow and go to sleep on the other side of the bedroom door, away from him.

  “You can stay here.” Dylan tossed the pillow into Ben’s arms. She stood from the sofa and headed for the bedroom, stopping just inside the door. “I’m tired. Goodnight,” she said, but froze to look at him through curious eyes.

  Ben smiled, clearly intrigued. “What is it?”

  “I’ve always wondered something. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, though.”

  Ben laughed uncomfortably. “I’m working on this opening up thing. Go ahead. Ask.”

  “When my dad was dying, you wrote him a letter.”

  “I did,” he said with a nod.

  “What did it say?”

  Ben smiled, reminding her of someone that she knew for only small glimpses of her life with him. She had often wondered over the last few months if that person ever truly existed or if it was someone he only pretended to be. She thought she had made up her mind on the answer, but seeing his peaceful face manifest before her once more made her question it all over again.

  “Never mind,” Dylan said, realizing that this topic may send him straight over the edge. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  “No,” Ben said as he sat forward. “It’s okay. I told him that I loved him like a father, thanked him for everything and I said that I would miss him.”

  “Oh,” she said softly.

  “And I said that as much as I loved him, I was glad he wasn’t my real father.”

  “What?” Dylan leaned in the doorway, stunned. “Why did you say that?”

  Dylan watched as the sincerity in Ben’s expression grew. “I didn’t want you to be my sister. I didn’t love you like a sister. I loved you in an entirely different way.”

  “You told him that?”

  “I did.”

  “I never knew that,” Dylan said in barely a whisper.

  “He wrote me back. You’re mom brought it over after he passed away.”

  Dylan felt her mouth fall open as she tried to process it all. “I—I don’t know what to say, Ben. I didn’t know any of this.”

  Ben nodded his head and sent a tear rolling down his cheek. Dylan watched in astonishment and felt a slight pang in her heart when she realized that he had no intentions of wiping it away. He just allowed it to fall.

  “In his letter, he said he loved me like a son.” He stumbled as more of his openly falling tears continued on down his cheeks, before adding, “And that he thought I was a good person. No one has ever said that to me, other than him.”

  “Ben, you are a good person,” Dylan said through her own tears. “You are.”

  “He said something else.” He took in a long, shaky breath and looked into her eyes. “He said that you loved me, too.”

  “I do,” Dylan replied in just barely a whisper. “I always have.”

  Ben stood to his feet before Dylan could say another word. It only took two steps before he was right in front of her and pulling her entire body into his grasp. She could feel the desperation inside of him as he held her tightly. He needed her.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear. “I’m so sorry, Dylan.”

  This was everything she could have ever dreamed of, but it was nothing she e
xpected. The entire night—the gallery even—was only a small fog now compared to the moment she found herself in. It was too much. It was too complicated and she was too scared.

  “I’m sorry, Ben.” She pulled away and ran to her own room, leaving him there all alone.

  Ben placed his open palm on the wood that now separated him from her. He inhaled sharply and wished that he could rewind and change everything he had done. “I love you,” he mouthed into the door.

  He had her for only a small fraction of time and he blew it completely. He had no one else to blame or be angry at. This was all his doing and he would be punished forever for it.

  He walked back to the couch and realized he had nowhere to go; he had nowhere else he wanted to be. He stretched out and covered up with the blanket. She would find him there in the morning and more than likely ask him to leave. Even with that understanding inside him, he would stay as long as he could. This would be his last night with her and he would hang onto it as long as she allowed.

  Dylan’s feet touched the plush carpeting as she made her way through the dark room with only the city lights outside to guide her. She carefully and quietly moved the door to her room and slipped through the small opening.

  She stood at the end of the couch that Ben slept on. Just half of his bare torso was covered with a brown throw that draped across his body, while one arm hung out and lay just at his side. His chest moved up and down slowly with each long breath he took. She watched his peaceful face and wondered if she would always feel this enamored at just the sight of him.

  She gently slid her body next to his. Her fingertips moved up his smooth chest, both waking and startling him. She didn’t pull away as she traced the lines of his abs and fluttered her way to his neck.

  She pressed her mouth to his and tenderly touched his cheek. It had been so long since she had kissed him—too long.

  Surprised, Ben pulled back and stared at her with his perfect blue eyes. “Dylan?” he whispered.

  She slowly raised her shoulders and let them fall. She smiled, and whispered, “I thought about it and I change my mind.”

  “Dylan, I—”

  She pressed her fingers to his lips. “You said enough, Ben.”

  She sat up and pulled him with her. She carefully straddled his lap and lifted her shirt above her head as he watched her with widened eyes. She leaned forward and kissed his neck slowly. Inhaling him was sweeter than she remembered, sending a warm gust rushing through her body.

  “I love you,” she whispered into his ear.

  They wasted not another moment. She had him out of his boxer briefs in only a matter of seconds. It had been too long for them both, and they were more eager to be together than they could have ever imagined.

  Ben cupped her cheeks in his hands. He smiled adoringly as he made his way inside her. He whispered, “I love you,” and felt his heart explode at the same time.

  Dylan groaned a long, happy breath. Smiling, she whispered, “I know.”

  They made love throughout the night, and then drifted off to sleep. Dylan awoke in Ben’s arms the following morning, just before sunrise. He whispered that he loved her, and made love to her again.

  When they left the hotel together in the afternoon, Ben grabbed Dylan’s hand as they stepped out into the city. He held it tightly and proudly, even smiling when she glanced his way in astonishment.

  All barriers were down and, Dylan knew, this time, they would stay down. Ben had made peace with himself.

  Epilogue

  Dylan painted a long, black stroke down along the white wall and stepped back to look at it. She had no idea what it was going to be.

  “What’s that going to be?” Ben asked as he carried a box full of dishes past her.

  “I don’t know,” she said happily. “But it’s the first line in our apartment.”

  Ben sat the box down, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed the slender part of her neck. “Then it’s a masterpiece. Leave it alone.”

  “Stop groping my sister,” Jonah demanded breathlessly as he carried a heavy box. Only he could be roped into helping them move. “I didn’t come across the country to watch that.”

  “You might need to leave then,” Ben taunted as he turned Dylan’s body around and pulled her closer.

  “I’m going to get some food. Jesus,” Jonah groaned and headed out the door.

  “I have paint all over me, Ben,” Dylan complained with a hint of laughter in her voice.

  “I like it when you have paint all over you,” he murmured against her skin. “Meet me in our new bedroom in about three minutes. Keep the paint on.”

  Dylan smiled coyly and turned to head to the bedroom.

  “Turn off your cell phone,” he demanded as he swatted her bottom. “If your mom calls one more time I’m going to lose my mind, and she seems to always call right when we’re in the middle of my favorite moments.”

  “You’re lucky she didn’t move to Massachusetts with us,” Dylan replied as she got sidetracked and dug into a random box. “Thank God Meredith is pregnant. That should keep my mother busy for a little while.”

  Ben puckered his lips, suppressing a smile. “Meredith’s baby bump is pretty cute. I imagined you with one, and I kinda liked it.”

  Dylan spun around and gave him a narrow glare. “Meredith has hemorrhoids right now, Ben. Do you think that’s cute?”

  “Well, I don’t want to imagine those,” he scoffed with a fearful grimace. “When I give you a baby bump, don’t tell me everything, okay?”

  “Deal,” she replied quickly, and unwrapped a photo of Carl. “Just so you know, whenever that does happen, the entire Mathews family will relocate. We might put that off for a while.”

  “I’m just happy I don’t have to worry about Brandon walking in on us naked and killing me.” Ben grinned mischievously. “Speaking of naked, why are your clothes still on?”

  “Because you wanted to talk about baby bumps,” she said, and put down her father’s photo. “I’m going.”

  “Three minutes!” Ben reminded as she walked away.

  Dylan shook her head as she headed into the bedroom. It wasn’t very big, but it was theirs. He was hers. It was a wondrous thing to say!

  Sidetracked again, Dylan began to pull clothes out of another box until she noticed the painting on the bed. Her heart stopped and a smile spread across her face when she realized what it was: the painting she had given Ben when they were children.

  She picked it up and stared at it, remembering every brushstroke as if it were yesterday. She had been so nervous.

  “Ben?” she called to him, but still did not take her eyes from the painting of two children under a red heart. “Ben, where did you get this?”

  When he didn’t answer, she turned to find him, but was stopped at the sight of him in the doorway. He was on one knee with a look on his face that she would never forget.

  “Turn it over,” he said simply.

  Despite her lack of breath and pounding heart, she did as she was told. Her hands shook while she read the two words painted on the back: MARRY ME.

  “Well?” he asked uneasily when she didn’t answer.

  Dylan finally pulled herself from the two words in front of her, and made her way over to him. She got down to his eye level and smiled at the ring in his hand.

  Through falling tears and a quivering chin, she managed to nod her head and throw her arms around his neck, knowing that life with him was meant to be and she would embrace it always.

  They would always belong to each other.

  the end

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  To my children—my entire world wrapped up into two handsome boys—thank you for sticking to the Unless You’re on Fire rule from the other side of my office door. To my husband, Marcus, thank you for always believing in me and reminding me constantly that this wild imagination of mine does, indeed, have a purpose. To my inspiring father and step-mother, who always urge me to see my future, thank you for yo
ur not-so-subtle pushes. To my extraordinary sister and witty brother in-law, Christian and Mike, thank you one million times and more for always being by my side from way over there. To my big brother and sister in-law, Maury and Rochelle, thank you for just being you and always lifting me up when I forget who I am; to my silly sisters, Karen and Shannon, thank you for always listening to my constant babble; I’d be lost without you. To my precious in-laws, Tom, Carol, Matty, Mitch, and Mallory, I don’t know how I made it without you for the first twenty-one years of my life. To the Souden, Edwards, Schirr and Stange families, I adore you all so much; thank you for the memories and great laughs. To Ashley, a huge thanks for your editing expertise, my friend. To my many nieces and nephews, friends and coworkers, THANK YOU! Last, but certainly never the least, thank you to all the past, present and future readers; I am so thankful to be able to share this story with you.

 

 

 


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