by Grey, R. S.
Ben is standing a few feet away, somehow here in this hallway with me even though he belongs back there in the crowded living room. The overhead light is off, a deterrent meant to keep people out of this area of the condo. I didn’t heed the warning, and apparently, Ben didn’t either. Without the lights, he’s half cast in shadow, watching me. We’re alone, and that knowledge sends my heart into a race I’m not sure it’ll win.
“I wasn’t going to go in,” I say hurriedly, embarrassed to have been caught snooping.
Ben is still standing there, the very edge of his lips barely lifted. His cheek wants to dimple, but he won’t let it.
“Shame,” he says before stepping forward, grabbing my hand, and tugging me inside. My body whirls after him. The door slams closed behind us. I stand stock-still near the entrance of the room while Ben continues inside, his hand releasing mine, leaving it cold and bereft. The sound of his boots against the wood floor is the only noise beyond the waves crashing against the shore. Like in the hallway, the lights are off, but with the large windows, the moonlight is enough to illuminate Ben as he wanders over to peruse Jake’s collection of books.
I watch him with bated breath. It’s comical that I thought we were alone a moment ago in the hallway because now we truly are.
I reach for the door handle behind me. “My brother—”
He glances at me over his shoulder, wearing a bored expression. “Is currently in the middle of a conversation with Norah Adler. She’s doing it as a favor to me.”
My eyes widen. “Why would you do that?”
He goes back to browsing the rows of books, his finger trailing along the spines as he replies, “Because your brother wasn’t going to let me talk to you. I had to get creative.”
The admission sends a thrill ricocheting through me. He wanted to talk to me. He wants me here. Then a realization hits me. I frown, worried for Colten. “You shouldn’t have done that. He really likes Norah.”
Ben nods, not at all shocked by the revelation. “It’s exactly why I asked her to occupy him. Anyone else and he might not be distracted enough to forget his role.”
“His role?”
“Playing the protective big brother,” he says, finally turning his attention fully to me. His face looks menacing even as he glances down at my champagne-stained dress. I wonder if he feels bad for scaring me. If so, he doesn’t apologize. “Want me to find you a towel?”
I shake my head. It’s no use now, but I still wipe aimlessly at my dress with my hand, highly aware that the light blue color is all but sheer now that it’s drenched. I pull it away from my chest as if trying to air it out and then look back up to find him watching me.
We’re half a room apart, and I think I prefer it that way.
His head tips to the side. “I’ve been wondering, does your brother know about your big life plans?”
I nearly choke. “No. Of course not. He and my dad like things just the way they are. If they had it their way, I’d never leave the house, would never walk outside or experience anything that wasn’t perfectly…wholesome.”
He smiles then, appreciating my honesty. “So what you’re hoping to achieve this year is too devious to tell your brother about. Interesting.”
He’s not moving and yet it feels like he’s circling around me like a snake, squeezing me tighter…and tighter. Soon, there’ll be no air left.
“You’re on the right track then,” he continues. “You made it to the party, and you snuck off into a room that’s not really intended for guests.” His brows arch. “What are you going to do now?”
Umm, congratulate myself on the achievement and call it a day? If I booked it home, I could still be safely tucked in bed before ten.
I can’t say that, obviously, so instead I deflect by answering his question with one of my own.
“What would you do? If you were me, if you wanted to be bad…”
He moves then, heading for the tufted leather couch sitting against the wall underneath a framed black and white abstract painting. He turns and sits down, stretching his long legs out in front of him so they’re crossed at the ankles.
“There’s the obvious choice. Normally, if I’m alone with a woman at a party, there’s no real question about what we’re about to do.”
One of his arms gets propped on the back of the couch. He’s the picture of easy confidence when our eyes meet again.
I resist the urge to stuff my fist into my mouth and bite down. Still, my insides flip and then clench tight. My bottom lip is tucked between my teeth before I realize what I’m doing and release it on an exhale. I’m lucky I didn’t draw blood.
His sinister smile stays in place as he continues, “But, since that’s not on the agenda for tonight, we’ll have to think of something else.”
Not on the agenda, of course. Why would it be? I’m just standing here looking as if I’ve entered a wet t-shirt contest. If I was more of a woman and he was less of a man, we’d be on the floor, tumbling around like two wild animals.
I try not to take offense at the fact that sex and anything pertaining to it has been so easily wiped off the table. Am I so unattractive that the very thought of sleeping with me sends him running in the other direction? Maybe it’s just that I’m not in his league, or perhaps not even on his radar.
In a way, it’s liberating having him reaffirm what I already suspected. I don’t have to be so serious about this. Sure, I’m alone with an attractive man, but I don’t have to worry about impressing him. He’s shut the door on that subject—locked it, in fact, and thrown away the key.
I finally move freely, stepping over to inspect the books that have been calling my name since I first poked my head into the room. Jake’s collection isn’t too shabby, but it’s obviously curated. Every title is here to impress rather than to be enjoyed. I know, because nearly all of the spines are perfect. None of these books have been cracked, torn through, devoured.
“You could steal one of them,” Ben suggests.
I glance over my shoulder at him with a wry smile. “Why stop there? Let’s take his TV too.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s just a thought. You want to be bad, but this location is sort of limiting.”
I nod, continuing to peruse the shelf as he continues, his voice slightly more goading than it was a moment ago.
“I suppose if you don’t want to take something, you could leave something instead.”
His words are as tantalizing as the meaning behind them. I freeze with my finger resting on the spine of The Divine Comedy. How fitting considering my Virgil is sitting right behind me.
Without turning to him, I ask, “Like what?”
“A token.”
I might be innocent in some ways, but I’m not so naive that I miss his meaning. I have so few things with me, no purse and no phone. I didn’t think I’d need them since I was coming with Colten. I have my mostly empty cup of champagne and the clothes on my back, a hair tie around one wrist. None of those things qualify as a token, though. No, a token is something compelling, a part of yourself. The first thing I think of is my unmentionables, the things I’ve never taken off in the presence of a man before. I cringe considering I can’t even refer to them directly in my own thoughts.
Your lacy panties, Madison. That’s what he wants me to leave behind.
My hand trembles on the book. I yank it away at the same moment I work up the courage to peek over at Ben. My mouth is hidden against my shoulder, but his is stretched into a mocking smile.
“I’m kidding.”
His amusement strikes a nerve inside me. He thinks I’m too chicken to do it.
“Close your eyes.”
His smile drops and mine widens tenfold.
“I said…close your eyes.”
He shakes his head in disbelief and lets his head fall back against the couch. Then he does as he’s told. I have an unobstructed view of his neck pulled taut, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows. It’s slightly unnerving to
see a man like him in such a vulnerable position.
“I don’t hear clothes being removed,” he mocks.
I resist the urge to throw a book at him. With his eyes closed, it’d probably hit its target.
I sigh and then glance down at my dress, assessing the hem with fresh eyes. It reaches my knees. I’m going to be fine. No one will notice that I’m sans-panties when I walk back out into the living room. If anything, they’ll be too preoccupied with the fact that I apparently haven’t mastered the use of a cup yet.
“Can I open my eyes now?” he asks as soon as my hands reach up under my dress.
I panic. “No!”
“What are you doing?”
“Taking my panties off!”
He makes an inaudible sound and then throws his arm over his eyes like he needs extra reinforcement to keep himself from looking. Interesting. Just because he doesn’t want me doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be a little curious to see what I have to offer. That thought thrills me even though it shouldn’t. I truly need a boyfriend.
“Hurry up,” he says, rudely.
“Okay! I’m doing it.” My fingers hook on either side of my panties and I slide the lacy material down my thighs. If I’d known I would be leaving them behind, I would have worn one of my oversized cotton pairs, my period panties—the ones I put on when I’ve just about given up on life.
I push the silky material past my thighs and knees then step out of the panties as quickly as possible. I yank the The Divine Comedy off the shelf, stuff them inside, and whip the book closed with a loud clap.
When I glance behind me, Ben’s eyes are on me. Maybe he heard me close the book and knew it was safe to look…or maybe he was watching me the whole time. I’m too scared to ask.
“He’ll never find it,” he points out, standing up to walk over to me. “I don’t think he’s read a single one of these books.”
“You’re right,” I say, gloating. “It’s the perfect crime.”
He laughs and suddenly, there are voices out in the hallway, bits of conversation filtering into the room.
“She said she was just going to the bathroom,” Colten says, his voice angry and accusatory.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Jake reassures him. “She’s probably just—”
I don’t catch the rest of his sentence because Ben’s hand grabs my arm and yanks me across the room. There’s a niche carved out near the fireplace, mostly hidden from the door. There, Ben pushes me up against the wall and covers my body with his just as the door opens.
I’m holding my breath. My heart pounds against his chest like it would rather be in his body than mine. He still has his hand wrapped around my forearm but now it’s squashed between us, the backs of his fingers grazing the side of my breast.
My lips part and Ben presses his other hand over my mouth, apparently worried I was about to give us away. And oh god, maybe I was. His skin is on my parted lips. His scent is wrapped around me and it’s the first thing I take in when I finally remember to breathe, him and his exotic blend of spice and sandalwood. Having him press me against this wall and cover my mouth with his hand is as erotic as a first kiss, more so considering every guy I’ve been with has treated me like a porcelain doll.
His eyes implore me to keep quiet and then he turns his head, trying to listen.
“She’s not in here,” Jake says, sounding annoyed at having been forced on this wild goose chase.
“I’ve called her ten times,” Colten snaps, and then I hear the faint sound of a phone ringing through his speaker before my voicemail kicks in. “Hi, this is Madison! I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you need me, leave a message!”
Ben’s looking down at me again with mischief in his eyes.
He likes that he just heard my voicemail, likes the trick we’re playing on my brother.
To him this is all a big game, and that’s okay. It’ll hurt less when I eventually fall in love with him if I know there’s absolutely no hope he feels the same, and I am going to fall in love. I’m falling at this moment, with his piercing amber eyes locked on mine and my lips pressed to his palm.
My breasts heave and brush against his chest with every breath, his smile slowly fading into something more sinister. His expression is one I’ve never seen him wear. I swear it’s carnal.
“She’s probably back in the living room, looking for you,” Jake says. “C’mon, man.”
Colt groans then the sound of their footsteps echoes down the hall. They left the door open. We’re alone again, but we have to be quiet.
Ben removes his hand slowly and I breathe deeply, but he doesn’t move. His hips have left no room between me and the wall. I wouldn’t be surprised to find he’s flattened me like a pancake. If he wanted to cage me in, he could. His body would completely eclipse mine. My dress is hiked up to the middle of my thigh and his dark jeans feel like sandpaper against my skin. Abrasive. Raw. He follows my gaze down to where our bodies are touching and we must remember at the exact same time that I’m no longer wearing panties because he steps back and I leap to the side as if to get away from him, which is ludicrous because he’s already getting away from me.
He wipes a hand down his face, brushing his jaw like it’s giving him pain.
My cheeks are so red, I’m fairly certain they’ll stay that way permanently.
“Mission one: accomplished,” I quip, trying to lighten the mood. Jesus, I need to reach behind him and pop that window open, air this place out a little—or better yet, throw myself out of it.
Where do we go from here?
I can’t think of one witty or interesting thing to say. My nerves are still frayed from where he was touching me. I need a moment of silence for Ben and the fact that his glorious body was just touching mine, but there’s no time for that because he’s telling me to go first, to leave.
He sounds gruff, and I hate that I’m disappointed.
I should have realized—he wants to go back to the party. He has friends to attend to, women to kiss.
He lifts his chin toward the door. “I’ll hang back until the coast is clear.”
I nod and brush past him to exit. I try to rack my brain for some sendoff, some way to make this night as memorable for him as it was for me, but I come up empty. All I manage is a lingering glance over my shoulder before I turn the corner and flee.
9
Ben
It’s late and I should go straight to bed, but I’m not tired. I left while the party was still in full swing, but by the time I made it back out to the living room, Madison was gone and Andy was busy trying to woo Arianna. I pulled an ol’ Irish goodbye and headed home.
Now, I walk into my kitchen and flip on the light. I don’t use this room as often as I should, especially considering how much money I put into it during the renovation. An interior designer picked out all the countertops and finishes, assuring me my wife would love every detail.
Wife.
My stomach clenches at the thought and I swear my house has never felt quieter or more isolating.
I pull open my pantry door, looking for a late-night snack, and settle on the best comfort food of them all: sugary cereal. I pour myself a bowl, sit down at the oversized marble island, and try to ignore the hard object poking me in the ribs. I eat a few bites before I cave and reach into the inner lining of my jacket, feeling for The Divine Comedy.
Yeah, I stole it.
I guess I’m more of a criminal than I thought. First a misdemeanor, and now petty theft.
I slide it onto the counter in front of me and take another bite of cereal, staring at it. I didn’t steal it because I want her panties. I’m not going to take them out and do weird shit with them; I just couldn’t leave them in Jake’s house. They don’t belong to him.
Her book choice was interesting—I’ll give her that much. She compared me to Virgil the other day, and I suppose she’s continuing the inside joke. I wonder, though, if I open it on a whim, will my finger land on the circle of hell designed
for thieves or the one reserved for lustful sinners? Apparently, I’m both.
I can’t believe I pulled her into that library. That was stupid, reckless. Her brother could have found us. Worse, I could have acted on the all-consuming urge I had to kiss her while he was in the room, when I was pressed up against her and her dress was nearly see-through, when I watched her wet her bottom lip and then take it between her teeth. Her green eyes were staring up at me with such sincere openness. I could have seen the outline of her soul if I’d looked hard enough. Every emotion was right there, brimming on the surface. She was afraid to get caught, but more than that, she was excited. Every part of her was begging for a kiss.
Maybe I should have done it.
No.
I jerk the thought out of my head. I’ve moved on from my attraction to Madison. I’m not in her life for that. I finish my last bite of cereal and load my bowl into the dishwasher. After, I slam it closed a little harder than necessary and am about to switch off the kitchen light when I turn back and swipe the book off the island.
I have to see the color at least.
Just that.
They’re pale blue and lacy.
Fuck.
* * *
I’m not on the schedule at the library again until next Saturday. I know because I have an email waiting for me when I arrive at work first thing on Monday morning. It’s short and to the point.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Volunteering
Hi Ben,
If it works for you, I’ll need you at the library this Saturday at 8:00 AM. You’ll be helping with toddler story time.
See you then,
Madison Hart
Children’s Librarian, Rosenberg Library
Below all of that is a phone number. On a whim, I text it.
Ben: Hey, this is Ben. I just got your email. Saturday morning is fine.
