by Lauren Helms
“Come on man. You know the girls are gonna want to meet her.”
“That’s fine. But it’s still not happening for you, man.” Fuck, I don’t care if she meets the whole crew, but I love giving him a hard time.
He glares at me as if he’s wounded.
“I’m looking forward to meeting her,” Dex adds. And I wonder what she’s going to make of this tight-knit crew I’m barely a part of. I wonder if she’ll see right through it. That I’m a loner and she can do way better than me. I grumble away the thoughts and try to get back into the easy conversation around me.
Later, when we’re heading back to the apartment, Dex pulls me back while Simon and Link walk ahead of us.
“I want to invest. There was a small gaming company looking for backers that came to me with this online game idea. So I jumped in, and I’m going to help them get their game out there. It’s going to be massive. They’re going to need people in this business who know a thing or two to help them navigate the success they’re going to have, and I want to be there to do just that.”
His truth comes out of nowhere when I realize he’s telling me he’s already started to move on.
“That sounds like a solid plan, Dex.”
“Whenever you’re ready to move on, don’t think for one second you’re going to upset us. We’re all there, man. The end is near, and you’re not the only one looking toward the future.” His words permeate as Simon says something to us over his shoulder. Dex gives me a knowing grin before replying to Simon.
The rest of my day—fuck it, the rest of my week—I think about what he said.
It’s time to move on, and all those feelings of not wanting to be left behind—well, I’m not an idiot for feeling them. Now if only I can figure how to navigate making massive career changes and being in a long-distance relationship at the same time.
12
Kelly
Navigating my way through O’Hare, I make my way through terminal two. I didn’t bother with a suitcase. Everything I needed for the weekend fit into an overnight bag I used as my second carry-on. So, after making my way off the plane, my time is only spent figuring out how to get out of this busy place. Ben told me he’d be waiting for me near the entrance, and I’m eager to see him. It’s been a month. All the calls, texts, and occasional FaceTime just weren’t enough. I want to feel him, smell him. I want to see him face to face without a screen between us.
Imagining him waiting for me, I wonder if things will be awkward between us. Is going so long between visits going to make our time together even sweeter, or will it strain our relationship?
All I want—no, need—is to be close enough for his musky scent to make my head swim with the heady intoxication I am now used to feeling when we’re together.
The automatic glass doors at the front of the airport catch my attention first. The glass must be tinted because the sun shining in doesn’t cast shadows over the many people milling about. I scan the groups of people looking for the dark, tattooed gamer I know is waiting. His text came through just as I stepped foot into the lobby off the plane.
That’s when my eyes land on Ben. A breath catches in my throat as I take in the dark jeans, Cubs T-shirt, and all that glorious artwork up and down his thick arms. My mouth waters before I check myself. You’re in public, Kelly. It’d be smart to remember that. But when his gaze meets mine, his cocky grin unleashes my own answering smile, and he starts toward me. His stride is confident and I bite back a moan. He’s close enough now that when he opens his mouth, I hear him growl, “Get over here, Kel.”
I fling myself forward. One step, two, three—and I’m in his open arms. My feet leave the ground, and I’m utterly lost in him. His body wrapped around mine, I breathe him in, and his arms tighten around me. Felling his lips on my neck, I rub my nose against the softness behind his ear.
“Fuck. I missed you,” he says into my hair.
Tears form behind my eyes and emotion threatens my voice. “I missed you, too.” I squeeze him closer and force those tears away. I will not cry. I’m happy to see him, but the desperation of missing him is overwhelming now that he’s here and in my arms.
How do people handle long-distance relationships? I can’t even handle a month. Shame mixes with embarrassment as they try to fight their way past my excitement of being here, but I win the war and plaster a smile on my face as he sets me back on solid ground and leans away to study me.
“Welcome to Chicago. I’ll be your guide for the weekend. Your wish is my command.” He grins.
“Promise?” I giggle, unashamed.
“Always.” Heat fills his eyes, and I contemplate making my first wish to find an empty closet or unoccupied family restroom somewhere so I can show him exactly how badly I missed him. But I’m a fucking lady, so I practice restraint and settle for a kiss.
Lifting up on my toes, I plaster a kiss on his warm lips. I feel his grin as he kisses me back. When he breaks the kiss, I can’t help but push my bottom lip out in a pout. Chuckling, he grabs the bag I don’t remember dropping to the ground beside us. Shouldering it, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the sliding glass doors.
“There will be plenty of time for that later, baby. I’m not one to put on a show.” He looks over at me, and I can tell by his look, he’d be tempted to had I fought him on ending that kiss.
We wait several moments for an available taxi.
“Did you not drive here?” I ask as he motions for me to get in the car first.
My bag follows me in and then he folds himself into the seat next to me, closing the door. He tells the cabbie where to take us before answering me.
“I don’t have a car. When you live downtown, you just use public transportation. The L train, cabs, Uber. Take your pick.”
“Doesn’t it get expensive?” I muse as I take in the sights out the window.
“Nah. The L Train and bus are less than three bucks a ride. And most people buy transit cards so they don’t have to fish out a couple of bucks from their pockets to pay for their rides. I walk a lot, too.”
Interesting. Big city life, I guess. But I’ve never spent much time in big cities, so this is all new to me.
“Can you surf here in Chicago?” I wonder out loud.
“You didn’t bring your board.” He chortles.
Turning to him, I smile. “No, I did not. I just wasn’t sure. Oceans are by far the best bodies of water for surfing, in my humble opinion, but I didn’t know if people ever surfed on Lake Michigan.”
His expression is blank as he contemplates his answer. “They do. There’s a beach on fifty-seventh that’s great for surfing in the spring and fall, but I’ve never surfed here. In Chicago.”
“Huh,” is all I say before looking back out the window. A quietness falls between us, and I wonder what he’s thinking about that has his lips pressed together, a slight grimace on his face.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “So what’s the plan for this weekend?”
He shakes away whatever got him stuck in his own mind. “I’m gonna show you around Chicago and then introduce you to some of my friends. But mostly, I have plans for you in my bed, for several hours at a time.”
I gulp back a moan as need slams into me. As if he can sense my desire, he leans across the seat and kisses my neck. Tilting my head to give him better access, he breathes me in, and my eyes flutter closed.
I’m sitting in the back of a cab.
We must be on the same wavelength, or I muttered the words out loud, but he groans and pulls himself away from me.
I find more Chicagoland questions to ask him to keep us from mauling each other until we arrive at what I assume to be his apartment.
“Let’s drop off your bag in my apartment and then I’ll show you where I spend most of my days.” He places a hand on my lower back as we walk toward the impressive building.
“The training room?” I guess.
“Yup. I’ll bet you money even though we called it quits for the day two hours ag
o, people are waiting around to meet you.” His brow is furrowed.
“And that’s a bad thing?” I hedge.
“No, it’s just—I keep to myself and these people…” He waves his hand toward the elevator we’re walking to.
“Your teammates?” I offer.
“Yeah, they’re nosy assholes and they like to gossip.” His wrinkled nose causes me to grin.
“And me being here is worthy gossip?” I don’t quite understand his grumpiness, but it’s cute as hell.
“No, it’s just, somehow, they’re all up to speed on you and it’s unsettling to me.”
“Because you keep to yourself?” I get it. And he’s adorable.
“It’s Bernie’s fault, really. Well, and Garland’s,” he grumbles. Then under his breath, I hear a muttered, “Fucking Garland Thorpe.”
“Well, I appreciate the need and want to not share every aspect of your life with someone. Remember, my best friend is as nosy as they come, but I’m looking forward to meeting your friends. They clearly care about you.”
He grumbles a little more as we step onto the elevator, but his answering kiss surprises me and all talk of nosy friends is forgotten about.
All too soon, we’re in his apartment. I’m being herded down a short hall and pushed into a bedroom. The scent of Ben, the one I spend my nights trying to conjure in my mind, fills my senses. His bed is pushed against the wall, and I have just enough time to notice the desk on the other side of the room with two computer screens and a large comfy looking desk chair before he’s pushing me toward his bed.
His shirt is ripped up and off, leaving his bare, sculpted chest the only thing I see. His rough hands find the hem of my own shirt as he quickly drags them up my body. His knuckles leave goosebumps in their wake. My shirt is off and tossed aside, then his hands reach for my shorts.
“I got it,” I tell him, pushing his hands toward his own jeans. I kick off my shoes as I unfasten my pants and push them down until just past my knees, and they slide right to the floor. That’s when my focus is back on him as he pounces on me, and I let out a squeal.
“A month is too long,” he growls before he buries his face between my swollen breasts, leaving a hot trail of wet kisses in his path.
Moaning, I pull at his hair, needing his mouth. Once I have his lips back on mine, I don’t even care that I sound like a sex-starved animal. That’s exactly what I am. This man does this to me.
He pulls away and peppers kisses down my chin and to my neck, then he’s kissing my chest again. His molten attention doesn’t stop as he works his way down my tummy as he licks right above the seam of my lace undies.
He’s not gentle as he shoves his fingers under the fabric—he’s rushed. And so am I as I lift my hips. He pulls at the only remaining layer between his mouth and me.
I watch with rapt attention as he runs his hands up my legs, spreading them further apart. An instant later, he runs his tongue along my sensitive flesh before sucking my clit into his mouth.
I cry out, fingers mindlessly finding his hair. Several minutes pass with his mouth on my center, his hand over my abdomen, pushing me into the bed, keeping me still.
Just as I’m about to shatter, he rips himself away. “Fuck. I want it all, Kelly. But I need to be inside you. Right now.”
“Please,” I breathe in a whimper.
I don’t know where or when he grabbed it, but he rolls on a condom, and my breathing stops as he plunges into me. No teasing, no easing into it. He just takes what we both so desperately need.
I’m so close to breaking that I moan out when he slams back into me. Over and over, I feel the tug, and I ignore that my heart and soul—my entire being—is drawn to this man buried deep inside me. Lust can be a wicked bitch, and I’m not going to let myself think about how the heart often confuses lust and love in moments like this.
His lips find mine, and the kiss isn’t sexy and sweet. It’s messy and dirty, and I want more of it. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I dig my heels into his ass, pulling him tighter. My nails claw at his shoulders as I arch into his kiss.
His movement becomes more and more frantic, and I moan as I feel my walls start to break. Burying himself deep one final time, I shiver as my body bursts into a million tiny pieces. Ben falls over the edge only seconds after.
With deep, staggering breaths, we try to calm our racing hearts.
“Fuck, I missed you, Kelly.” He lets out a humorless laugh. As if he’s almost angry.
He’s lying on top of me, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be. But in this moment, I worry he’s not as happy about us uniting as I am. I kiss his cheek, feeling him let out another ragged breath.
“I’m sorry if I was rough,” he whispers.
“It was just what I wanted,” I whisper back.
He pushes up on his forearm, his eyes searching mine. I smile, telling him I’m fine. Finally, he smiles back. The Ben I know and am falling in love with is staring back at me. His cocky smirk and the gleam in his eye melt my brain and all logical thought.
Looking into his handsome face, I realize that raging hearts and stupid thoughts cause nothing but unbearable heartache. That’s the path I’m heading down if I don’t check myself and gather my wits. Ben Ford will break my heart and it hurts like hell knowing it’s coming.
After our quickie in Ben’s room, we right ourselves, and I fix my sex-mused hair before we leave his apartment and walk down the hall to the training room. Calling it a training room feels insignificant once I take a step inside and realize how expansive the space is. I remember him saying it was two apartments in one—but, wow, this space is impressive.
I mumble the word, and he chuckles in reply.
“Yeah, it is.” He takes my hand, shutting the door behind him.
My name rings out from a feminine voice. My head whips to the left as Ben grumbles. There’s a plush and leather seating area where three ridiculously attractive people sit. A female jumps up from her perch on the chair, and two guys lounge on the couch. His teammates, who I recognize from the website—which honestly doesn’t do any of them justice.
The woman walking toward me is wearing jeans with a few rips in them, and a T-shirt with several succulents on them that says, “what the fucculent” on it. I smile as she nears. Her long, dark brown hair hangs halfway down her back, and she’s wearing clear, plastic, full-rimmed glasses. She could be Zoe Deutch’s doppelganger, for sure.
“Hi, I’m Bernie.” She pulls me into a hug, and there’s something about her that has me going willingly. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Come on, Bern, you’re gonna scare her,” one of the gamers behind her says.
She lets me go and just smiles at me.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” I tell her as she squeezes my hand before tugging me toward the couch. “Because Ben’s a slacker, I’ll make the introductions.”
Ben grunts behind me but follows me.
She lifts a hand to the guys, and they briefly stand for introductions. “This is Dex and Simon. I’m sure you’ve heard their names—they piss Ben off a lot.”
Laughing, I offer, “Not as much as a guy named Link.” Then I look around for more people. All of them laugh and Ben wraps an arm around my shoulder.
“He has a way of annoying just about everyone he comes into contact with,” the blond guy, Simon, says.
“How was your flight?” Bernie asks as she drags me to the other end of the massive couch and pulls me down onto it. Ben trails behind but opts for the recliner adjacent to us.
“Long. But easy,” I tell her. I like her instantly. She’s kind and happy and so eager to get to know me.
“Is Ben going to show you around the city? Wait. Have you been to Chicago before?”
I nod and start to say something, but Ben cuts in. “Give her a moment to breathe, Bern. Yes, I’m going to take her out to see the city.”
Bernie offers me a bemused smile as I answer her last question. “I’m a Chicago newbie
.”
“You’ll love it,” she states with confidence.
“As much as a surfer girl can love a big city, though,” Simon quips and Dex elbows him. Bernie’s smile doesn’t falter, so I ignore the comment. But in the corner of my eyes, I see Ben’s nostrils flare as he stares down Simon in a cold, hard glare.
“So if you have time while you’re here, I would love for you to meet my friends. Morgan, Gia, and Ruby are super fun, you’ll love them.” Bernie smiles expectantly.
“Honestly, I’m surprised the whole gang isn’t here,” Ben answers gruffly.
Dex chuckles. “They wanted to be, man. But we didn’t want to overwhelm Kelly.”
“It would have been fine,” I offer at the same time Ben grumbles, “Thank God.”
Before long, Ben excuses us from the training room with promises of meeting up with the whole gang tomorrow for dinner. I say my goodbyes and follow Mr. Grumpy Gamer out into the hall.
“Let’s go for a walk. Do you need anything?” he grunts, and I consider dragging him down to his apartment and trying to persuade him to leave the grouchiness at the door. But instead, I shake my head. I have my small purse hanging across my body still, and we walk silently to the elevator.
It’s not until we’ve walked about a block away from the building that he starts to lighten up. I use this as the perfect opportunity to ask what the deal was back there. We’ve never been anything but embarrassingly honest with each other, so why should I hide my own feelings about the shift in his personality?
With his hands shoved in his pockets, he nods as if he was expecting my question.
“I’ve got some things on my mind. And, I was excited for you to meet my friends. Until they decided to point out how different our lives are and Bern tried to keep you all to herself. I guess I got a little possessive back there. I’m sorry.” He looks over at me, smile wavering as he waits for my response.
A laugh bubbles out of me, and I shake my head. I reach out and thread my hand under his arm, leaning into his side. “You have nothing to worry about, Ben. I’m all yours; you don’t need to share.”
