Every Hidden Truth (Far From Ruined Book 2)

by Nikole Knight

  “Okay, cool.”

  “I think some of them are planning to crash at my place, if you want to stay over, too.” With the most adorable simper, he kissed my knuckles. “I’ll reserve a spot for you on the bed. You know, if you want.”

  Stepping into his body, I angled my head to catch his shy gaze. “Yeah, okay. As long as I get to share with you and not Ronnie. He’s a bed hog.”

  He laughed, his face brightening. “No worries. I’ll, uh, reserve both spots for us.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” We stood facing each other, staring at our clasped hands. “Wanna make out in the stacks?”

  “Yes,” he replied instantly, smashing our mouths together with zeal. “Yes, I really do.”

  The stiff book spines dug into my back as he blanketed my body with his, but I dismissed the discomfort. His spearmint lips offered a pleasant distraction, and I lost myself to the heat of him, ignoring the sudden foreboding knocking on the back of my brain, telling me we weren’t alone in the deserted corridor.

  “How often do people come back here?” he asked, breathless.

  I checked our surroundings, verifying we were, in fact, alone. “Not often. We won’t get caught.”

  With a Cheshire grin, he winked. “Good.” Then he dropped to his knees.

  “Holy shit! Ben, don’t. You’re so gonna get me fired.” My pathetic refusals couldn’t even convince me, and he proceeded to delve his tongue into my belly button as his hands rubbed my thighs.

  “Only if we get caught, right?” His eyes gleamed with desire as color rushed into his cheeks, and I stuttered out more denials. Contrary to my words, my hands dove into his hair and tangled in his curls as his finger brushed over the front of my jeans. “You okay?”

  Since Christmas, he’d successfully jerked me off three times, and every time, the panic was duller, more easily processed.

  So, when he asked me the now-scripted question, I nodded instantly, even as the familiar fear teased the back of my mind. “Yes.”

  As he unbuckled my jeans, he glanced at me from under his lashes. “Who’s touching you, baby?”

  “You are,” I answered as the anxiety drifted over me, dissipating swiftly into the air.

  His hot breath trembled over my skin, and I whimpered when his lips met my hip bone. “Who’s touching you, Si?”

  Tugging my jeans down just enough, he met my gaze, the waves in his eyes crashing with intensity, and I moaned. “You are, Ben.”

  That sexy, evil smirk was back. “You’re goddamn right, I am.”

  And then he lowered his mouth, and I died. It took everything in me to remain quiet, and when we somehow managed to make it through one blow job without getting caught, I returned the favor as stealthily, yet enthusiastically, as possible. Sure, I chanced getting my ass fired and possibly arrested for public indecency, but his fingers in my hair and his desperate gasps were worth the risk.

  “Holy shit.” His chest chugged as I rose to my feet, wiping the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “That was… hmm.”

  Kissing me in a way that should be illegal, he swirled his tongue into my mouth, and I accepted the invasion. I didn’t mind the bitter aftertaste, a mix of both of us.

  Three hours later, I clocked out and left work, my mind still reeling from Ben’s blow job behind the stacks. I had fantasized about his mouth for months, but the reality of him on his knees before me had far surpassed my imagination. That boy knew how to use his tongue, and I swore he lacked a gag reflex.

  Shit, just thinking about it had me sporting a semi as I drove home, and I, once again, regretted wearing skinny jeans. With Ben as my boyfriend, I should abandon my wardrobe of tight pants. It would aid the discomfort of unplanned, yet inevitable, erections.

  In a rush to get to Ben’s, I threw random clothes into an overnight bag and trampled down the stairs. “I’m going to Ben’s. Probably won’t be home till tomorrow.”

  Dad shifted his attention from ESPN, one thick eyebrow arching. “You’re staying the night?”

  To avoid a rerun of the worst conversation of my life, I corrected my statement. “Everyone is. It’s a group sleepover, not a boyfriend sleepover. Scout’s honor.”

  He snorted as I raised my right hand, palm out. “You’re eighteen, Silas, a legal adult. Just be safe and don’t do it on the couch where I can see it.”

  “La, la, la, I’m leaving now!” I sang, shrugging into my coat, and he waved. “Happy New Year’s, Dad.”

  “Happy New Year’s, Son.”

  The icy roads were a challenge, but Mabel and I survived, parking next to Ben’s Impala fifteen minutes later.

  I waltzed into the house through the garage, not bothering to knock. The last time I stood at the door, ringing the bell, Aunt June nearly had an aneurysm. She’d practically ordered me to use the garage entrance and to make myself at home whenever I was over, and I was not stupid enough to defy her. She was tiny, but she was a force of nature when instigated.

  When I walked inside, the kitchen was empty, the television droning over the chugging of the dishwasher. It seemed rude to escape to the basement where I assumed Ben to be without greeting his aunt and uncle, so I crossed the kitchen and hooked my head around the corner wall.

  Uncle Henry watched the same game my dad had been watching, and I knocked on the wall lightly to catch his attention. “Hey, Uncle Henry.”

  “Hi, Silas.” His blue eyes crinkled around the edges as he smiled, his bearded cheeks splitting to show teeth. “Ben’s downstairs.”

  “Figured. Thanks.”

  With the pleasantries out of the way, I clomped down the basement steps and barged into my boyfriend’s bedroom without knocking. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch him doing anything naughty, like watching porn, and I pouted when he spared me a quick glance and a grunted, “Hey,” before refocusing on his video game.

  He wore a headset with a microphone, and he was talking to his team as they played some type of military, multiplayer game online. I wasn’t much of a gamer—I preferred Mario Kart and Spyro—-but I slumped on the couch anyway to watch him shoot bad guys or aliens. I honestly couldn’t tell. The screen spun too quickly for me to track the action.

  “Hey, boyfriend,” I greeted.

  Ben grunted again, his body leaning to the side as he barked into his headset. “I swear to God, Andrew, if you don’t cover my ass—”

  Someone shouted back at him, and he mumbled a few choice swear words. He cursed most when channeling his inner-Crazy Ben persona, but put him in front of a video game and he gave even me a run for my money.

  “Juarez, where the fuck are you— Are you fucking kidding me?” He chucked his game controller on the floor as his screen filled with fake blood. “Goddammit! You guys suck. I’m out.”

  Knowing better than to needle him while he was like this, I pulled out my phone and played a game as he went about cleaning up his video game paraphernalia. He grumbled under his breath as he ripped off his headset, each movement jerky and aggravated as he shoved the different pieces into the draws of the small media center standing below the television.

  “So, I take it your team abandoned you?” I asked innocently as he threw himself on the couch with a furious growl.

  “Shut it, Silas.”

  I chuckled, allowing him to rest his head on my lap as I commandeered the TV. Turning it to a rerun of Family Guy, I set the remote on the couch arm and ran my fingers through his hair. He sighed, the tension in his muscles loosening, and when I was sure he wouldn’t bite me, I leaned down and pecked his unresponsive lips.

  “It’s good to see you, too, boyfriend. How was the rest of your day at work?” I did my best Ben impersonation, lilting my voice higher, and his cheek twitched. I continued my one-sided conversation. “Oh, it was great. Thanks for asking. And, yes, my dad totally gave the green light for us to have crazy monkey sex during a boyfriend sleepover.”

  “Wait, what?” He straightened with a start.

  “He’s alive!”
r />   “No, seriously, what?”

  As he twisted to face me, I laughed at his saucer-sized eyes. “Well, he got all judgy when I said I was staying over, so I told him it wasn’t a boyfriend sleepover. And then he was all, like, ‘You’re an adult, Silas. Just don’t let me catch you fucking your boyfriend where I can see,’ or something like that. Ergo, we can totally bang with my father’s blessing.”

  The longer I spoke, the worse he grimaced, and I could barely finish my speech through my growing laughter.

  He shook his head. “That somehow ruins the prospect of sleeping with you.”

  “Hey!”

  He shoved me in the shoulder, rose to his feet, and danced out of the way when I tried to kick him. “Not that I didn’t want your father’s blessing for our relationship. I just didn’t want to know his personal thoughts about our non-existent sex life.”

  Feeling naughty, I craned my neck over the back of the couch as he headed for the bathroom. “Last time I checked, oral sex is still sex.”

  He flipped me off, his ears red.

  “And our sex life won’t be non-existent forever!”

  “Tsk, tsk. You’re still assuming I’ll put out.” He winked, shutting the door as I guffawed.

  We made out on his couch between episodes of Family Guy until it was time to meet everyone at the bowling alley. I offered to drive his Impala, and since he was less steady on snowy roads, he relinquished his keys.

  Ten minutes late, we were only the second couple there, Julian and Iris already filling in the teams on our reserved lanes.

  After donning our bowling shoes, we searched for balls in the racks in the back—and, yes, I did make a pun about it. Ben did not laugh.

  With my glittery purple, twelve-pound ball in hand, I sank into the seat beside Iris.

  We made lame small talk as Julian and Ben split those attending the night’s festivities into two teams. Kim, Caroline, and Jordan trickled in as we finished entering the names on the board, and Harris arrived a minute later.

  Per usual, Ronnie and Esther were the last to show.

  I made sure Esther and I were on the same team, which meant Ronnie and Ben were with us, too. Jordan joined us, leaving Kim, Harris, Caroline, Iris, and Julian as our competitors. Julian and Ronnie trash talked as Kim and Caroline ordered drinks and snacks for the table. It was decided the losing team would pay the tab at the end of the night.

  “I suck at bowling, so we’re totally gonna lose,” I whispered.

  Esther giggled. “Well, I’m pretty good, so I’ll carry us to victory.”

  Her smug prophecy shocked me, but not as much as her delivering on her promise, achieving a strike with her first throw.

  “Holy shit!” I clapped along with the others as she blushed red, receiving a kiss on the cheek from Ronnie. “You weren’t kidding.”

  She shrugged, a pleased smile playing at her mouth. “I’ve been in youth group since sixth grade. This”—she waved at the lane—“is what we do.”

  Handing her a cup of soda, I crunched our plastic cups together. “Well, here’s to riding your coattails for the rest of the evening.”

  True to my word, I sucked royally, earning gutter-balls more often than not, but I didn’t mind failing when it meant Ben would help me. He stood behind me, shadowing my every move as he tried to show me how to aim.

  Like with his teaching on billiards, I was too distracted to soak in his wisdom. Instead, I drank up his warmth and spring soap.

  Esther carried the team, though Ben and Jordan were pretty good as well. Ronnie was barely better than me, which made his earlier trash-talk embarrassing, but we had fun all the same.

  Despite Esther’s valiant efforts, our team lost thanks to Ronnie’s and my abysmal performance. At least I beat Caroline, thirty-two to thirty-one. So, I wasn’t the worst failure in the room.

  Back at Ben’s house, we bundled up in coats and gloves, then stood in the backyard, watching the fireworks. As the sky lit with crackling greens, blues, and whites, Ben framed my back with his body and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. His breath fogged the air beside my eye, his cheek pressed to my temple, and I hooked my hands on his forearms crossed over my chest.

  At even intervals, he kissed my cheek or squeezed me tightly, as if to remind himself I was really there in his arms. I grinned and leaned into his body, secretly loving the way he held me. In the moments I wished he held me more securely, he tightened his grip and nuzzled my ear, like he knew my thought without me voicing it. He’d always had a knack for reading my mind. Half the time, he knew what I needed before I, myself, was aware.

  How did I ever get so lucky to find him?

  As the sparkling explosions reflected in his eyes, I devoured his features. The second he felt me watching him, he met my gaze with a lopsided grin, and I returned the sentiment. Our eyes locked in a silent conversation I could never explain with words, but Ben didn’t always need words. I understood his silence. We didn’t need to voice the three words flowing between us; it wasn’t necessary. We knew, and the demand for spoken word lay abandoned behind us.

  He cupped my cheek, his thumb grazing the rough hint of stubble scattering my jaw, then connected our lips. It was the barest of touches, soft and sweet, and I sighed pathetically. His kiss communicated exactly what my heart yearned to hear, the words repeating through my mind as we moved in sync. I dove into the depths of him, drowning in his spring soap and spearmint.

  When we inevitably parted, it was bittersweet, but the overwhelming joy lighting his face as his forehead met mine filled me with airy contentment. We were total goners. Maybe we weren’t forever—we were young and stupid, after all—but whatever this was between us was real. Even if it ended in flames and heartbreak, it didn’t diminish what we cradled in our hands right at this moment.

  He was everything, and I’d fight for every second he gave me.

  The firework show ended with a huge display of explosion and color, and our weighty exchange lightened as we broke eye contact to watch the finale. I inhaled deeply, blowing the breath through pursed lips to release the tension in my body from our emotional trade. I joined everyone else in clapping and cheering as the sky finally quieted, then followed the group inside, my hand tucked firmly in Ben’s.

  We watched the ball drop on TV as we played pool and poker, ringing in the new year with tequila Kim stole from her dad’s liquor cabinet. Ben graciously accepted the quarter-full cup as we all “toasted”, but when Kim offered him a refill, he eyed the bottle with a mix of trepidation and longing.

  I took his cup away with a significant look, refusing for the both of us.

  He buried his face in my neck with a whispered, “Thank you.”

  “I got you, love.” I kissed his head, and he released a shaky breath.

  “I know.” His lips sought mine, and I answered eagerly, my first New Year’s kiss. His mouth traced my tender flesh as he mumbled, “You’re my favorite.”

  After two movies, Ronnie took Esther home as the rest of us prepared to sleep.

  Blankets and pillows were spread over the floor, and Caroline stole the couch, falling asleep almost immediately.

  I changed into my pajamas and used the toilet, checking my phone for the expected but unwanted text. Unknown hadn’t disappointed.

  Unknown: Happy New Year, Brigs.

  I ground my teeth in frustration. Any doubt that Unknown knew who I was evaporated as I read my last name. Damn it.

  Silas: Fuck off! If you text me again, I’m calling the cops.

  It was an empty threat, but Unknown didn’t know that.

  Forcing all thoughts of Unknown from my mind, I swapped places with Ben so he could take his turn in the bathroom and crawled into his bed. I snuggled into his bedding as my stomach flip-flopped with nerves. The last time we shared a bed, we hadn’t been dating. Just like with the shower, there was a certain intimacy to sleeping next to someone else.

  Of course, I didn’t need to worry.

  Ben joined m
e in the bed, the room dark except for the dull light peeking through the crack left in the bathroom door. I accepted him with open arms as he curled himself around me like a python. His head burrowed against my chest, his hair tickling my chin, and I wrapped my arm around his shoulders as my free hand twined with his over my stomach.

  “Goodnight, Silas,” he murmured, loud enough for my ears only, and I smiled into the darkness.

  “Goodnight, Ben.” I stared at the black ceiling until the snores of our friends revved through the air and Ben’s breathing deepened.

  When I was sure he slept soundly, I pecked the top of his head and whispered my confession into his hair, a secret encased in the shadows. “I love you.”

  Twenty-One

  The rest of winter break passed in a blur of happiness, and even the beginning of school couldn’t damper my satisfaction. It was the last semester of my final year in high school. It was almost over. I had an amazing boyfriend, actual friends, and my relationship with my dad was better than it had ever been.

  Life was surprisingly good. Of course, I had no idea how to function in such pleasant contentment, but I managed somehow.

  School started, and my life fell into a routine of sorts. Ben had two more months to the swim season, practicing every day after school, but he came over afterward to eat dinner with me on the nights I didn’t work. Mondays, I hung out with Kim after school, and weekends were spent with Ben or my dad.

  Once a week, Dad and I skyped Will and Cora. They kept us updated on the baby, and it felt like we were actually a family again. Mom’s abandonment had ripped through us, but the festering wounds were finally starting to heal. We’d scar, but I didn’t see them as a weakness. Scars were proof we’d been through hell and survived.

  Will continued his tenuous relationship with Mom, talking with her on the phone, but he hadn’t met with her yet. I understood the need for procrastination. I’d drag my feet, too, if I were in his shoes.