by Vi Lily
He shook his head slightly at that. He didn’t want to think about that, ever again. From this moment going forward, that was the past. His future was with Beth, no matter what.
Her eyes clouded when she saw him shake his head. She probably thought he was denying her invitation. Instead of answering her, he stood and pulled his sweatshirt over his head, then sat on the toilet and unlaced his boots while watching her.
He didn’t know if it was passion, embarrassment, or the heat from the water, but her cheeks were flushed as she watched him. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t going to try anything with her, not yet anyway. She was still sick, was weak as a baby. Plus, there was a lot they needed to talk about.
For one thing, he had some apologizing to do.
Yeah, he was certain she hadn’t willingly had sex with his dad. For one thing, there was the journal. For another, she’d talked in her sleep the past two days, feverishly mumbling. But she’d said some things that made him absolutely sure that his worthless excuse of a father had raped her.
“No Coach! I want Ben.” “Stop, please…” There were a lot more denials, more pleas. But the one that got him the most, the one that had made him bawl like a baby and be glad that she was out of it and didn’t see him break down…
“Ben was going to be my first.”
His piece of crap father had stolen her virginity. Ben was sure of it. That made everything she’d gone through a hundred times worse. And then the douche had just taken off, leaving Beth behind to suffer the consequences of what he did.
He had to have known what would happen to her in Bearing, the town so soccer crazed that all that mattered was they had a winning coach. His dad could probably come back now and he’d be welcomed with open arms and slaps on the back.
If he ever saw that pathetic excuse of a human again, he was going to pound his sorry rapist butt into the ground. And piss on him like a dog, just for good measure.
He stood then and unzipped his jeans. Beth’s eyes widened as she watched him. He watched her as she swallowed, hard.
Looked at him like she was scared. Looked at him like a virgin would.
“Scoot up,” he told her, his voice deeper than usual. She did as he asked and he climbed into the tub behind her, his thighs straddling her body. He wanted to groan at the contact, but he kept silent.
He grabbed the soap and started washing her back and her arms. He was amazed at the differences in their color. His dark hand looked like it was dirty next to her beautiful pale skin. She giggled when he moved to wash her pits and he smiled.
“Ticklish?” he asked, but she didn’t answer.
He really wanted to soap her everywhere, but he had to keep reminding himself that she was sick, vulnerable.
Sexy as hell…
He handed her the soap and was pretty sure he was going to pass out from the blood rush when she slowly soaped the rest of her beautiful body.
He groaned, a harsh sound. “Baby, you are so damn sexy.”
And weak, he realized when she leaned back and laid her head on his chest. His hands went to her waist to hold her. She looked up then and kissed his chin.
“So are you,” she whispered. “I… I really don’t know what I’m doing, but I know that… that I want you.”
He knew she didn’t want to kiss him because she hadn’t brushed her teeth in several days, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t either. He pulled her up onto his lap and kissed her like he’d done so many times before. Their kisses had always been steaming hot and had always sent him home with his body groaning and moaning for more.
Ben had wanted to wait to make love to Beth back then. She was so damned precious to him and she deserved something really special for their first time. He’d had big plans for Prom night with her, had looked into renting a hotel room.
He was going to wine her and dine her and then proceed to make love to her until neither one of them could walk.
But of course, that had all been thrown out the window. Prom had already passed, but even if it hadn’t, there was no way he was going to subject Beth to those Athole jerks at an after-school function.
It was funny; a week ago, he’d been worried if he and Gwen would still be able to go to school at Athole. And now? He really couldn’t care less. In fact, he was thinking a transfer would be good for both of them. They were going to have to move soon anyway. The home office for Oak Place had gotten word of his mom’s absenteeism and had left a notice of termination and eviction taped to the office door.
He’d tried calling both his mom and his dad, but neither would answer their cells. In fact, he was pretty sure his dad’s had been cut off since, instead of going to voicemail, he got a recording about it not being in service. And his mother hadn’t bothered returning his freaked out messages about her job.
Ben still had no idea what he and Gwen were going to do. And they only had three weeks to figure it out.
He pushed those thoughts aside as he broke their kiss. He didn’t want to think about the past or the future; he just wanted to be in the now.
As much as his body was screaming for attention, he held Beth away from him and looked at her — swollen lips from their kiss, pink cheeks, lust-glazed eyes. But she was still sick.
He sighed and then leaned forward and put his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. “As much as I want to, uh, take this further, baby, you’re sick. I don’t want to take advantage of your weakened state.”
She snorted at his comment while she turned her head to watch her finger as she traced the lines of one of his pe’a — the traditional male “tatau” of Samoa. He’d gotten them a year ago, after Athole had won State.
“But I want to,” she whispered. While it might have been sexy to have that whispered any other time, he knew she was doing it because her throat was so raw.
He ran his hand slowly up her side. She sucked in a breath on a hiss and he grinned, knowing she was ticklish.
“Mmmm,” he murmured. “While I would seriously love to, I don’t think we should.”
Her groan didn’t tell him much — he didn’t know if she was groaning because he was making her wait, or because she liked his hands on her body.
Maybe both.
He sighed heavily and mentally told his body to chill the hell out, but it wasn’t listening to him.
“Stay there. I’ll get us towels.” He stepped out of the tub and moved toward the door. He almost laughed when he heard her suck in another breath.
It was chilly outside of the bathroom, so he put another log on the fire and poked at it to get the flames going again, then he grabbed some towels out of the linen closet, tied one around his waist and went back into the bathroom.
Beth had leaned back against the foot of the tub with her eyes closed. He doubted she’d fallen asleep so quickly, but then with as crappy as she was feeling, it was possible.
“Baby,” he said softly and smiled when she opened her eyes. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”
“Mmmm.” Not very responsive, he thought, but she put her arms up like a child would who wanted to be picked up. Ben clasped her hands and pulled her up, then quickly wrapped the other towel around her. He frowned when he noticed her long hair dripping and realized he should have gotten another one for her hair. Instead, he pulled his off and draped it over her head, tucking the ends under her hair.
He almost jumped out of his damned skin when her hand slid down his body. It was just a quick, soft touch and over far too soon.
“Sorry,” she said quietly, not sounding sorry at all as she reached up to hold the towel around her. “It’s just… I’ve just never a naked guy before. Never saw one either. Not that you believe me…”
Her words choked off and Ben knew she was probably sorry she’d brought it up. “I do believe you,” he told her as he tucked his finger under her chin and lifted her face to meet his eyes. The beautiful green of her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
“And that’s something I want to talk about, but no
t here. Let’s get you tucked into bed first.”
He started to grab her clothes, but then decided to put his sweatshirt back on her. He liked the way it looked on her. There was something about having her wear his clothes that was sexy as hell. Something primal.
Ben moved Beth toward the chair near the fire to keep warm and watched as she pulled the towel off her head and started rubbing it. He turned to make the bed. He was tired of sleeping on a bare mattress but hadn’t wanted to disturb her when she’d been out of it just to make it.
He could feel her eyes on him as moved around, tucking sheets in and spreading the quilt out. Her hot look was giving him the chills, strange enough. He’d never been an exhibitionist, but he liked the way she looked at him, like he was something she wanted to devour. He just hoped it wasn’t a fever making her goofy again.
She looked so tiny and vulnerable sitting in the chair that he scooped her up instead of leading her to the bed. She chuckled slightly as she dropped the towel on the chair, then looped her arm around his neck.
“You like showing off your awesome muscles, don’t you?” she asked with a smirk.
He grinned down at her as he stood by the bed with her in his arms. Ben thought that he could stay like that forever.
“Only for you, baby.” He gently laid her on the fresh sheets. “Now, get under the covers before you get chilled. Don’t want that fever coming back,” he said as he pulled the quilt up under her chin.
Her amused eyes flickered down his body. She was not longer looking at him with fear, thankfully.
“What about you, Apollo? Aren’t you, um, getting chilled?” her jade colored eyes looked back up at him and she fluttered her eyelashes. He laughed and glanced down.
He smirked at her. “Not that cold. And what do you mean by ‘Apollo’? Don’t you mean Adonis?” he grinned.
Beth cracked up, then grimaced and put a hand to her throat. Ben frowned and grabbed the cup to get some more water for her and helped her sit up again to drink.
When she’d had her fill, he set the cup down and climbed in next to her. He wasn’t tired, especially after having slept so well the past few nights with her wrapped in his arms. Plus, he figured it was only early afternoon, judging by the sun’s position.
He thought it was funny that he didn’t miss electronics at all. Not having his phone, his laptop or tablet, a television or radio, not even having a clock — none of it mattered, not when he had the best distraction in the world lying beside him.
“Mmmm,” Beth murmured as she snuggled against him, her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her back and kissed the top of her head. “Adonis was the most handsome of all mortals,” she whispered, continuing their conversation, “but Apollo was the most beautiful of the gods.”
Ben chuckled at her Greek gods lesson and the movement made her head bounce slightly. He ran his hand over her damp hair, stroking her lightly. While he knew she needed to sleep, he wanted to clear the air first.
“I’m sorry, Beth,” he murmured. Before she could ask why, he continued. “I never should have talked to you the way I did… the way I did in the hall that day. I just—”
“Shh,” she whispered, interrupting him. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” he said with more vehemence than he meant. He slid his hand down to her back and rubbed what he hoped were soothing circles after she jumped.
“I never should have said such crappy things to you. And I never should have just pushed you away without hearing your side.” He sighed heavily, the movement jostling her again.
“On the way up here, when I had no idea if I’d be able to find you, if you were—” he stopped and cleared his throat against the emotion of the thought he left unspoken. She turned her head before laying back down on his chest so that he was now staring down into her eyes. He ran a finger down her cheek.
“I came to the realization that it no longer mattered what you did or didn’t do. If you were ‘guilty’” — he made air quotes with one hand — “or not. No matter what happened… before, I… I want you in my life, baby. I want what we had. Can we just pretend things are still the way they were?”
Beth didn’t say anything for a long time. Ben continued stroking her, rubbing circles on her back. But then she said something, just one word, that shattered his world.
“No.”
Chapter 3
Beth
I KNOW THAT Ben is hurt by what I said, but I want to get the air cleared completely, since he’s finally in a position where he has to listen to my side. Willingly or not.
I push away from his comfy chest so I can sit up and face him. My throat is still killing me, but I’m going to get this out. Then maybe I can die in peace.
The hurt look on his face takes my breath away. I really have no doubts that he meant what he said. But it’s not what I want.
“What I mean is that I don’t want to pretend things are like they were,” I tell him. “I don’t want to just pretend that nothing happened, because it did.” I take a deep breath and try to swallow back my tears, but they’re making my raw throat burn.
I reach out and grasp his hand and intertwine our fingers. Some of the pain on his face bleeds off with my touch, thankfully. I rub my thumb over his knuckles, as always amazed at how huge his hand is compared to mine. My whole hand will fit in just his palm.
My gentle giant.
I can’t look at him if I’m going to about that night. If I see any reaction on his face, any at all, I just know I’m going to completely lose it and I’ll never get out what I need to say. Instead, I stare at our hands — mine pale and tiny-looking; his dark, rough and so freaking masculine that it’s almost scary.
Hands that could really hurt me… but that I am sure never will. Despite that ugly day when he’d been crazed with anger and pain, when he’d said things that broke my heart, even then I knew that Ben would never intentionally hurt me.
“I never lied to you when I said I don’t remember what happened.” He starts to interrupt, but I hold up my hand.
“Let me get through this. Please.” I risk looking at him, and thankfully, his features are schooled into a neutral look.
I take a deep breath. “You were at my house. We were studying. You remembered that you had a meeting with your rowing team, and you had to rush out.” I give the details of that night in a clinical way, like I’m reciting from a written list.
“After you left, I went into the kitchen to start dinner and then I went back to working on my French. I worked for quite a while when I noticed your phone under the coffee table. I decided to be the best girlfriend ever and take it to your house…” I smile at that, somewhat in embarrassment, and somewhat ruefully.
If only I had been a bad girlfriend that night…
I have to shake my head to clear it. “Anyway, the last thing I remember that night is sitting in the Mercedes, waiting for it to warm up so I could drive to your house. Then, I woke up the next day, found out it was afternoon. I felt like I’d been drugged. I was groggy, weirded out. Like I was in a fog. My mom told me she’d found me the night before in the driveway, car running, passed out with the heater on full blast. She thought I was drunk.”
I pause to pick up the cup and sip the water he brought me because my throat is super dry now. I take my time sipping, then hold the cup in my lap and stare into it. I can’t meet his eyes. The next part is going to be even harder to get out.
“I decided to take a shower, hoping to clear my head. When I, um, when I undressed… I had bruises. Here.” I put my hand over my left breast and glance at Ben. His face is still neutral, but he looks a lot more tense.
“And I also had blood… on my thighs. I… I thought I’d started my period, but I don’t have those anymore since I, um, since I got on birth control cuz I was hoping you—” oh, man, this is harder to get out than I thought.
I take a deep breath and force myself to look at him again. “I was hoping that you and I were going to, you know, and
I wanted to be prepared,” I say in a rush. I just wanted to get that part out.
He doesn’t say anything, but I remind myself that I asked him not to. Duh.
“I was sore too, you know… down there.” I take another sip of water, knowing my face is red. Not only is it embarrassing to talk about all of this, but I’m talking about how Ben’s dad raped me. Not something that’s easy to hear, I’m sure.
I force my shoulders back, trying to steel myself. “After the shower, I went downstairs and my mom…” Unfortunately, my voice cracks with emotion then.
So much for steeling myself. I put a fist to my mouth, like I can somehow shove the pain back inside. Ben starts to reach for me, but I uncurl my fist and hold it up like a shield. If he touches me, I’ll lose it and I’ll never get this out.
I take another deep breath and fist my hand again, placing it on my bent knee. “My mom had just gotten the text. The video. She… she slapped me. Asked how I could do such a thing. Didn’t even let me tell my side.” I shrug. “No one did.”
“I—” Ben starts to interrupt, but I put my hand up again and shake my head. He looks like he’s about ready to cry and I quickly avert my eyes. No effing way am I going to get through this if he does.
“I’m not pointing fingers or anything. I’m just telling you what happened as factually as I can. No one let me tell my side. Not my mom, not Rod, not anyone at school.” I leave off not you, because it just doesn’t need to be said. We both know he wouldn’t let me talk to him afterward.
“Then the bullying started and I was afraid to talk to anyone. I just tried to keep my head down and get through each day. But the bullying was way worse at home,” I whisper. The tears that I’ve managed to hold back now flood my eyes and a sob escapes me.
Ben is on me in a flash. He sits up and wraps those big arms around me and pulls me into his chest. I sob against him, knowing I’m going to shatter, but he holds me together.
He lets me rain my pain all over him, a torrential storm of brokenness that feels like it’s going to flood the cabin, washing us down the mountain.
