by Emilia Finn
“That’s called humility,” he jokes. “You wouldn’t be familiar with that emotion.”
“Shut the hell up,” I laugh. “What’s your question? You said in your text that you wanted to ask me something.”
“Oh, yeah.” He grunts, as though turning over. “So, I started seeing this chick, right?”
I laugh. “Right. I heard she’s really funny.”
“And humble,” he adds. “But the thing is… We haven’t gone out on a date yet. Like, four years into this thing, and I haven’t asked her out to dinner.”
“That’s pretty pathetic, really. I’m surprised she hasn’t dumped your stupid ass.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” he sighs. “Hey, Evie?”
My stomach tingles in the most ridiculous way. “Yes?”
“Will you come to dinner with me?”
I sigh and try to bite down my oversized grin. “Yes.”
Ben
Everything I’ve Ever Dreamed About
The day after Christmas in a small town tends to mean restaurants are closed. This isn’t a city where everything is always open, but a small town where moms and dads run these establishments and need at least a couple nights a year with their families.
Which means my ill-timed request for dinner results in homemade food tucked away in a picnic basket. The snow isn’t falling tonight, but it did last night and all morning this morning.
I pull up to Evie’s estate with nerves I’m not used to feeling, low in my gut. I’ve made this drive a million times, and I’ve knocked on that front door a million more. Her parents are protective of her, but they’re not tyrants, so it’s not like they’re going to kick me back over to the other side of the ten-foot fence and banish me for life.
But I’ve never officially asked their girl out on a date before.
I pull into the driveway and stare at the Christmas lights for a minute longer than I normally would. The heater inside the truck cab keeps me warm, so I use that as an excuse to keep the engine running – I’m keeping the cab warm for Evie – but really, I’m doing something I’ve never done before.
I’m as accustomed to procrastination as Evie is to humility. Not because I don’t want to see her. The opposite, really. This is the first night of something special, and I’m terrified of fucking it up. I’m terrified that somewhere along the way, at some point over the next few years, I’m going to take a misstep. I’m going to lose everything, because that’s my life. I never ever get to keep the good things. And asking her to be my girl in an official way is tempting the gods to smite me.
It’s almost easier to simply say no, we can’t be together, and all the while, I’ll stick to the sidelines and keep watch. I can keep her safe, and clean up her messes, and because we’re not together, we can’t actually break up.
But this thing now, this thing between us; it’s everything I’ve blown the candles out and wished for for years. And because I have it, means I can lose it.
It’s likely I will lose it, because my life was never meant to be this good.
My mom and sister are safe. My career is on track. And now I got the girl.
The world is going to swing around at some point and knock me the fuck down. It’s not a question of if, but when. Because guys like me are not meant to be this happy.
My phone dings and illuminates the cab of my truck. Evie’s name flashes, and because of all the worst-case bullshit flinging through my brain, my stomach drops and convinces me that she’s texting to cancel.
Come inside, ya weirdo. You’re freaking my dad out.
Laughing, I don’t bother replying. I toss the phone onto the long seat and cut the engine, then I draw a deep breath and slide out until my feet hit the concrete driveway that holds a light layer of crackling ice. I slam the door closed, and pocket my keys, then I clear my throat and move ahead to start the rest of my life.
I won’t lose her as long as I treat her right. I cannot lose her, so long as I stay me; the Ben I’ve worked tirelessly to create, and not the Ben I was conceived from.
I was named after my abusive father, and fought that name for as long as I can remember. I wanted nothing to do with him, which is how the names everyone likes to torment me with – Sasquatch, Yeti, Dragon – were born.
Everyone I know thinks they’re so clever, but it was Evie that was able to help me accept my name in the end.
The way she says Ben.
Hey, Ben.
I miss you, Ben.
I love you, Ben.
You’re my best friend, Ben.
Oh my god, I’m touching your dick, Ben.
The door opens with a vicious swing that makes me jump and snap my head up. “What was that?” Aiden Kincaid steps out and folds his arms the way he does; he says it’s his way of showing he’s listening. But what it really is, is him saying if you waste my time with trifling shit, I’m gonna choke you the fuck out. “Did you say something?”
“Nope.” I shake my head and will my eyes to shrink back to size. “Absolutely not.”
A pregnant pause hangs over us for a minute that sends chills right down to my toes. How can I sweat and freeze at the same time? How is it possible to be this nervous, when I’ve known these people most of my damn life?
“Alright…” Aiden blows out a heavy breath and rubs a hand over his jaw. “Look, I know this isn’t as big a deal as I think it is. But you’re taking my baby out on her first date, and I’m not sure I’m handling it very well.”
“I promise not to hurt her.” I move up the front steps and stop in front of him. “You already know this about me. You know I protect her.”
“I do know this. And I know you’re capable, should her big mouth land you guys in trouble. Your mom is a great mom. I know she will have already torn you up with the talk about being responsible.”
“Yes, coach. She said that if I fuck this up, she’ll skin me.”
“Did she say ‘fuck’?”
I dig my hands into my pockets and smile. “She really did. She’s not playing.”
“Right, and neither are we. Evie’s mom and I care very deeply about our daughter’s happiness. But more than that, we care that she’s safe. She has to be in good hands, because it’s not a secret that she’s a daredevil. She always jumps before she thinks, and she has this uncanny ability to convince people her bullshit plans are probably gonna be fun.”
“Yes.” I chuckle. “She does have that gift.”
“Up until this point, you’ve been immune to that. You know bullshit when you see it, and you circumvent the dangerous shit and keep her out of lockup. I’m gonna need you to keep doing that.”
“I promise, I will–”
His shaking head cuts me off. “See, I would normally believe you. You have such a promising track record, but now you’re a man, and she’s beautiful. I heard rumors that you kissed my baby, and it’s fucking me up real bad, because you’re no longer her friend looking out for her, but a man who might have plans that his brain can’t control. Those plans have been known to get the better of us all.”
“Oh no…” I lift my hands to defend myself.
“You don’t have that luxury, Conner. You don’t get to think with your dick when you’re with my girl, because the moment you do, you lose it. I will rip that thing off and make you eat it. You know I’m not joking.”
“Uh…” I clear my throat. “No coach, you’re not joking.”
“Good.” He steps back when the door opens again and reveals matching Kincaids.
Tina and Evie both wear jeans. They both wear sweaters that accentuate their… uh… curves. And they each have a light dusting of makeup on that makes their eyes and lips pop. Evie did herself up for me, and it’s both exciting and humbling, considering I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen her get fancy.
“Biggie…” Evie steps forward and grabs his elbow to try to tug an arm from his fold. She knows what that stance means, too. “Pull it together.”
“Be good
.” He turns to her and cups her cheeks so they smoosh higher. “Make good choices. I’ll see you by eleven. I don’t give a single fuck that you live away at college now, and therefore curfews don’t exist. Here, in this town, you’re my girl. You’re not yet eighteen, which means I still run your life. Eat your food, do not consume a single drop of alcohol, then come home and help me sleep better.”
“You’re overthinking this.” She steps up onto her toes and drags him down to press a kiss to his cheek. “I love you, Biggie. I won’t stay out past curfew. I promise.”
He softens for as long as she remains in his arms, but as soon as she drops back to the flats of her feet, his eyes fire up again and stare right into mine. “See you when you get back.”
He backs up with slow movements, steps through his front door, and refuses to release my eyes until Tina pushes the door most of the way closed.
But the threats don’t end until Tina gets her go. She is infinitely scarier than Aiden could ever be. Her smile flattens to a snarl, and her eyes blaze as she brings two fingers up and points at them, then at me.
I will have their daughter home before curfew, and it has absolutely nothing to do with her scary dad, and everything to do with the woman who tried to wipe me off this planet the last time Evie made bad choices I couldn’t stop.
“You look handsome.” Evie stops in front of me so the toes of her shoes touch mine. Pulling me down just like she did with Aiden, she presses a confident kiss to my cheek and smiles. “Smell good, too.” She steps back. “You wearing something different?”
“Um…” The curtains twitch to my right and send my heart racing. “Sorta. It’s not super new. Mom got it for me for my last birthday.”
“Mm. I like it. You ready to go?”
“Yeah.” I take her hand when the curtains snap closed again, and lead her toward my truck. I help her up the way I always have; through my door and across so she can scoot to whichever seat she wants. She chooses the middle, of course, and buckles up as I climb in. I close the door as quickly as possible to maintain the residual heat from my way here, and finally smile when I turn to her and find her curls perfectly primped and sitting like a wild crown on her head. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Her cheeks pinken just a little and make my heart swell. “Dinner?”
“Yes. I have it all planned.”
“Where are we going? I didn’t think anywhere would be open tonight.”
“Actually, Pinocchio’s is open. I saw them working when I passed on the way here.”
“Okay.” She makes that face people make where they’re considering something. “So, pizza and pasta? Sounds good. I worked out today for the first time in ages, so I could do with extra carbs.”
“Nope, not Pinocchio’s, sorry.” I try not to freak out when her soft hand lands in my lap. It’s just a hand on my thigh. It’s really not that important. And yet, my heart races as I put the truck into reverse and head toward the gates. “I didn’t realize they’d be open, so I didn’t even try to make reservations. I’ve got something better, anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. First date ever. I have to make it special.”
Slowing at the top of Lookout Hill, I reverse to the edge so the truck bed overlooks town, then I cut the engine and give Evie a quick smile before I shove the door open. I quickly slam it shut again when I get out, not wanting to let the heat escape.
It won’t matter a few minutes from now, but I don’t want to steal the heat if I don’t have to.
I jog around to the back of the truck and drop the gate open. Lifting the canvas cover I don’t normally keep there, I peel it back to reveal a bevy of blankets and pillows, a picnic basket filled to the brim with carbs we both desperately need in our diets, and a bottle of faux champagne.
I want the feel of a date without the breaking of laws. So I bought bubbly and champagne glasses, but there’s no alcohol anywhere in or on my truck.
I dig my hand into a canvas tote and pull out small candles. I also pull out two dozen of Ma’s collected jam jars, and drop a lit tealight candle into each one. They provide light, but won’t kill us if they’re knocked over. I line the jars along the lip of the bed, and add a couple to the roof, since the space is unused and handy.
Evie is not known for her patience, so it doesn’t surprise me when the little window at the back of the truck cab slides open, and her head and a bunch of blonde curls pop out. “Er… whatcha doing?”
“Dating you.” I place the final jar on the side of the truck, and look up with a grin. “Candlelight. Bubbly.” I lift the bottle and a glass. “Dinner. And because it’s cold as fuck and I’d feel bad if you got sick, I brought every single blanket our house owns.”
“You come prepared,” she murmurs.
Turning fully in her seat, she proves why she’s Evie by climbing through the window with huffs and grunts, rather than opening the door like any normal person would. She drops into the bed of the truck with a thwump, and looks up to me with a wicked grin as she cozies up in the blankets.
“You got hot water bottles too?” She wiggles her butt as though to settle in. “It’s toasty warm in here.”
“I did. Oz called me a pussy because I spent the afternoon pre-heating the water to fill them.” I climb up with a kind of redundancy settling in my gut, since Evie is already in and doesn’t need my help.
Evie doesn’t need help. Ever.
I know this about her.
I crawl forward and grab the picnic basket as I go, but when she stares at me in the almost darkness, giving me the smile of a vixen, and pulls the blankets back in offer, I smile and accept the space beside her.
She doesn’t need me, but she still invites me in.
I open the basket and take out the Tupperware containers. Southern fried chicken pieces. Fancy bread. Vegetable sticks with dip, and cute little pastries I bought from the store.
Evie’s eyes hungrily follow my hands, as she no doubt plots her plan of attack. She’s not a girl who’ll pick at her food and pretend to be dainty and not hungry. She’s the girl who’ll swipe the turkey leg at Thanksgiving, or order a whole pizza for herself, since she says everyone eats too much and she’s always left hungry.
I get to the bottom of the basket, and when she’s transfixed by my hands, I slowly lift the final container and crack the lid open to reveal slices of her favorite pizza.
“Yes!” she hisses. “I swear, how did I get so lucky?”
I laugh.
I could serve her meal on a plate, but we both know it’s unnecessary. I skip the formalities and simply drop the container on her lap, and leaning back against the cab of my truck, I fix the blankets and take a slice for myself.
“This is, like…” Looking around us, she takes a bite of cold pizza and groans. “This is heaven.” She leans to her left and rests her head on my shoulder. “Thank you. Seriously.”
“Welcome.” I throw an arm over her shoulder and pull her in as close as I can manage. I don’t want even an inch between us, because I know once this Christmas break is over, she’ll be gone, and it’ll be months and months before I see her again.
“How are you feeling after your fight?” She leans back, but only so she can rest her cheek on my shoulder and look into my eyes. “Sore? Did you see Andi to get a rubdown?”
I nod and set my slice down so I can pour our drinks. “I saw her this morning. She massaged a few aches out of my chest, and told me to suck up the rest.” I laugh. “She’s a pain in my ass.”
“And the rest? You waking up achy?”
“Not as bad as I expected. Dude was a pussy. He didn’t land much.”
She accepts the offered drink, but before I can pull my hand back, she grabs it and studies my scabbing knuckles. “You gave him a beatdown, considering he wasn’t that great.”
“Had to show them who’s boss.” I grin and pull back when she releases my hand.
The skin where she touched me tingles. It’s so dumb, considering we
’ve held hands a million times over the years, but everything feels different now. Everything feels supercharged and electric.
“I was so hyped for your fight,” she admits after taking a sip. “I couldn’t sleep the last two weeks. So I got my payback against the eternally horny Clair by watching the dude’s fight videos all night.”
“If she’s eternally horny, then maybe you only encouraged her hormones by watching two sweaty dudes fight.”
She snorts and places her glass on the lip of the truck bed. “Nah. She doesn’t want fighters. In fact, I’m led to believe we’re inferior in her eyes. She’s more into the goth-rock type look. Black hair, hair straighteners – for him, not her – and eyeliner. Again, for–”
“For him, not her,” I chuckle. “He’s not the quarterback hunk that all the girls fawn over?”
She takes a bite and shakes her head. “No. I don’t think he does sports at all. His body isn’t like any of the bodies in our gym.”
“You spend a lot of time checking out the guys at the gym?”
She snickers and taps my leg with hers. “I meant my dad and uncles, you dummy. Ya know, broad shoulders, wide waist, thick arms.” She turns to me and squeezes my bicep. “Like yours.”
“I don’t have a wide stomach.”
“No.” She looks down, as though she can see through my layers. “You’re a little slimmer than, say, Uncle Jack. But your parents aren’t as big as his were. He was more genetically inclined toward this world. You joined in, and made your body comply. But a lot of those guys with the thicker waist don’t have the V going into their shorts, either. You do.”
“I do?” I look down. “I guess I’ve never paid that much attention.”
“Liar!” She laughs and turns back to face the town laid out ahead of us. “Guys don’t get those muscles and not twist in front of the mirror to look. You’re such a fucking liar.”
She’s right, and we both know it. I’ve stood in front of my mirror and studied each and every ridge I work for. I train until I want to be sick most days, I train until I can barely stand, and I do it all under the steely gaze of this girl’s dad.