by L. J. Fine
Soon he turned onto a narrow dirt road surrounded by trees. A narrow creek ran parallel to some old, abandoned train tracks a few miles back into the woods. A small stone bridge covered a section of the creek and once he cut the bike’s engine, she noticed that, aside from the running water, the place was absolutely still. Beautiful in a calm, rustic sort of way.
“Where are we?” she asked when he helped her climb off the bike. The red and orange leaves of the trees around them blanketed the ground and crunched under her heels as he led her over to the bridge. The air here smelled new and clean and she couldn’t seem to get enough of it into her lungs.
“This is my spot,” he said simply, hoisting himself up to sit on the low stone wall of the bridge.
“Your spot?” She lifted herself up to sit beside him.
“Yeah, I used to come here a lot when I was younger, when I needed to think, or when the world got to be too much.” Narrowing his eyes, he started off into the water. “Actually, I come here a lot now, too.”
Taking in their surroundings, she said, “Well I can see why. It’s peaceful here.”
It truly was the perfect place to come and clear your head and shut the rest of the world out. Though, when she thought about how much he must have come here, how solitary he always seemed to be, even when surrounded by people, it tugged at her heart. No one should feel that alone all the time.
“And what do you think about when you come here?” she asked sliding him a sideways glance.
“You mean now, or back in the day?”
She shrugged. “Both.”
Turning his head to look at her, he cocked an eyebrow but told her anyway. “Mostly, when I was a kid, I used to come here when being around my brothers got to be too much. I’d daydream about what it would have been like if she hadn’t taken off.”
He turned to stare into the creek then, but Emma could tell that he didn’t see the clear water as it flowed down the path.
“Did you ever see her again?” she asked softly. “You know, after?”
“Once,” he said distantly. “But she didn’t see me.”
He paused for a few moments as though to gather his thoughts and Emma patiently waited until he was ready to continue. Reaching over, he took her hand in his and began to absently play with her fingers, tracing the lines of her palm. His touches came easier now, not full of purpose or meant to evoke any particular sensation. He only touched her for the comfort and pleasure of it now. Like they had been lovers for years and he held her hand every day. The thought made her heart ache, yearning for all the possibilities between them.
Eventually, he finished his story. “It wasn’t really all that hard to track her down. She hadn’t exactly hidden where she had gone from anyone. When she lived with us, all she ever talked about was one day going off to New Orleans.” He shrugged. “Figured that’d be the best place to start.”
“You found here there, then?” Emma began stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. He squeezed her fingers.
“Yeah, that’s where she went. We found her sitting on some guy’s lap in an outside café in the French Quarter. They were feeding each other strawberries or some shit, and the woman was actually giggling. I’d never heard her giggle like that at home.” He snorted. “Only sound I ever heard her make was all her yelling. Either at dad or at one of us.”
“You said we. You didn’t go alone?”
Shaking his head, he said, “No. I wanted to. Didn’t even tell anyone where I was going but somehow Adam knew. Jackass wouldn’t let me go alone so he came with me.” Flashing his gaze back to the water, he clenched his jaw. “I really wish he had stayed home. He didn’t need to see that shit.”
She could only imagine how awful that must have been. To know that one of your parents didn’t want anything to do with you was bad enough. But then to find out that they had moved on to become happier without you? She couldn’t fathom it. She had always known she had won the genetic lottery in the family department. Never once had she ever doubted that they loved her. Ben’s story only confirmed that knowledge.
“You didn’t approach or confront her?” Emma didn’t know what she would have done in that situation, but she knew her own fiery temper enough to know she probably would have said something to her.
He gave a humorless laugh. “You know, when I first saw her I almost didn’t think it was actually her. But when I realized it was? I was so pissed off, Emma, you don’t even know. I was immature enough that I almost did go up to her and make a big scene right there in front of God and everybody. But,” he shook his head, “somehow in the middle of all that rage, I got some clarity and I finally saw her for who she really was. If she could just fucking leave us like that, go off and start a new life with some complete stranger, then I had no use for her. She could never have been the type of mother I needed anyway. She was too angry and bitter and way too selfish. I realized then that maybe her taking off the way she did was the best thing she was capable of doing for us.”
Maybe he was right. The fact that he’d had the presence of mind to discern something like that in such a moment spoke volumes about his character. Even at such a young age. More than likely, Emma would have caused that scene he talked about. She felt such rage on his behalf, even now, so many years after the fact. He had turned out better than most men she knew, especially given the circumstances. But his mother’s abandonment had left scars that had shaped his life. She was kind of glad his mother hadn’t seen him since. That woman didn’t deserve to know that her son had turned out to be such a good man.
“Adam didn’t see it the way you did?” she asked.
Sneering, he gave a stiff jerk of his head. “No, he didn’t. I think that was the moment that he pretty much decided that he was done with women, emotionally speaking. That’s why he’s such a man-whore.”
She couldn’t help it, she had to laugh. He shot her a glance out of the corner of his eye and that small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah I know, Adam’s shameless and it shows.”
Emma held her free hand up. “I said nothing.”
He turned toward her then, that same corner of his mouth twitching. “You didn’t have to. But it’s cool. We all know how he is and he’s careful.”
“I’m just glad that you aren’t like that,” she said then immediately felt awkward for all the implications of that statement. Realistically, it shouldn’t matter to her who he slept with as she would be gone in a few weeks. But she would be lying to herself if she said it didn’t.
Then he made it worse by not saying anything for a long time after. His gaze refocused on the calm trickle of water and she was left to wonder what thoughts moved through his mind. Had she made a faux pas just now? Suggesting that he might mean something more to her than an extremely inspirational fuck-buddy? Maybe that was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. Especially on the heels of rehashing all that went down with his mother.
On the flip side, though, he didn’t have to tell her about his mother at all. That he had shared such a big part of his past showed that he at least trusted her as a friend. And the fact that he still held her hand firmly in his as he idly played with her fingers wasn’t a bad sign either. Problem was, she just didn’t know.
As she was about to overanalyze everything she had said to him tonight, he saved her by opening his mouth. And the words that came out left her speechless.
“You asked me what I came here to think about, past and present. I told you the past part, but that’s all old shit. Now, when I ride up here, mostly what I’m thinking about is you.”
As those words ricocheted around in her head, he kept his steady gaze on the creek. A million questions popped into her head. All of them involving what exactly his thoughts were and if he saw them moving forward in their relationship instead of going their separate ways. But the quiet way he had spoken and the way he steadfastly avoided her eyes told her that he would be in no way comfortable having that conversation right now. The informa
tion he just gave her was strictly food for thought. To let her know that his thoughts and hers weren’t so far apart without having to really say it all out loud. So she let all those excited questions die on her tongue and tried to find a way to calm her racing heart.
Instead, she ignored it like she sensed he wanted her to, an asked him a completely unrelated question. “So, besides being a neighborhood hoodlum, and coming up here to think, what did you do for fun around here?”
That got his attention. “Really? Hoodlum?”
She smiled and shrugged.
Shaking his head, he returned her smile. “Actually, there’s not a whole hell of a lot to do around here. Which is why I always used to skip over to the next town.”
“I’m intrigued. What was so exciting about the next town over?”
“It’s bigger for one. So that meant more opportunities to get into trouble.” He shot her a playful grin and the sheer wickedness in that smile sent a jolt of awareness right through her. “But mostly I used to go for the raves.”
Now that was probably the last thing she had expected him to say.
“Wait. You’re a raver?” She couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her tone. When he just returned what was sure to be her stupefied look with his usual calm and slightly bored expression, she shook herself out of it. “I seriously don’t even know why I’m surprised. Is there anything you can’t or haven’t done?”
“I can’t draw for shit.”
Annnnnnd there she went again with that dumfounded expression. “What?”
He shrugged. “Seriously, it’s all stick figures and squiggly lines.”
“What?” she repeated.
He laughed. “You asked. Besides, you’ve never gone to a rave?”
Giving him a mock frown, she said, “Sadly, no. Not a lot of raves where I grew up and as an adult I’ve been too busy.”
A line of pain went right down the center of his face as he frowned at her. “I think the question I should be asking here is, what do you do for fun? ‘Cause from where I’m sitting, Sugar, it looks like you’re severely lacking in that area.”
Pulling her hand from his, she crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t want to answer that question because he kind of had a point and honestly it embarrassed her.
In the end, she didn’t have to. He stood up and muttered, “c’mon,” before he started walk toward the bike.
Warily she followed him, then took the helmet he handed her when she reached him. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to your very first, and long overdue, rave, Sugar,” he replied as he put on his own helmet.
Emma could feel how wide her eyes got and she backed away from the bike. “Oh, no. I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” he asked blandly as he mounted the motorcycle.
“Because I sincerely doubt that’s my scene, Ben. I would be so out of place, it’s not even funny.”
It surprised her when he laughed. “No you wouldn’t.”
Didn’t matter how hot he was, or how sexy that low laugh sounded, she wasn’t getting on that bike. Remaining silent, she shook her head.
He sighed. “You’re a writer, right?”
“Right,” she said, wondering what that had to do with anything.
“And I’m supposed to be helping you with your writing, giving you ideas and experiences and whatnot, right?”
Again she replied in the affirmative.
“Then don’t you think, as a writer, you should learn to be a collector of experiences? If for no other reason than to add variety and authenticity to your work?”
Oh, he was good. And sneaky. She hadn’t seen that one coming, but when he put it like that…
Grudgingly, she put the helmet on and climbed onto the bike behind him. But not before poking him in the side. “How’d you get to be so smart, anyway?”
She could see the wry twist to his lips as he spoke.
“Musta been all that time I spent as the neighborhood hoodlum. Who knew delinquency could sharpen the mind like that?” Then with that, the motorcycle roared to life, disturbing the quiet surrounding them and they sped away.
So many people rushed and swayed on that dance floor that Emma feared if she joined them, she would never find her way back out.
The old abandoned factory was just one big open space. Of course, very little of that space could be defined as open. All around her, bodies pulsed and gyrated to the heavy base of the techno music blasting through speakers that seemed to be set up in every corner of the building.
She stood with Ben on a landing at the top of a set of metal stairs, looking down at the throbbing mass of people. Strobe lights went off in colorful time to the rhythmic beat of the music, touching every space of the vast room. Massive crowds like this always made her nervous despite the fact that she’d lived in the city for the better part of a decade. Maybe it was insecurity, maybe it was distrust, or maybe it was just a touch of claustrophobia. Whatever it was, the fact remained that Emma didn’t like the idea of going down there.
Ben diverted her attention by placing his hand against the small of her back. She turned to him.
“You.” She pointed at him. “Want to go down there?” She redirected her finger to indicate the crowd below.
Rather than humor or irritation, the look he gave her was full of inexorable patience. “I do.” He nodded. “But I want to go down there with you.”
“You’re gonna lose me in the herd of people if we go down there.”
“No, I won’t.” Slowly, he slid his hand down her arm and entwined their fingers. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you go, Sugar.”
Taking a deep breath, she looked back down at the crowd.
“Promise?” She tried for a joking, flippant tone but failed epically. She could plainly hear the anxiety in her own voice.
His free hand cupped her face and pulled her gaze back to him. “I promise.” The steely resolve in his eyes calmed her nerves enough to allow him to lead her down the stairs.
When they reached the bottom and were about to enter the throng of people, he kept going but got stopped by the tug of her hand when she quit moving. Turning to face her so that his back was to the crowd, he tugged on her hand, jerking her body into his. His arm wrapped around her waist in a secure hold and he started backing onto the dance floor, pulling her with him.
“Focus on me, Emma.” And she did. She couldn’t look anywhere else but at his face, everything else around him too overwhelming.
Then he started to move.
“Just let go, Sugar.” He pulled her with him as his body joined the rhythm of the crowd. The death grip he had on her hand never loosened but his arm dropped away from around her waist when she started to jump and move along with him to the frantic pace of the music.
Eventually – when she got the hang of it – she started to have fun. It was different than dancing in a regular club but not as threatening or violent as being in a mosh-pit. And with Ben right there with her, she really didn’t have to worry about the other people around them. He had her and all her focus centered on him.
Soon she found herself wondering what she had been so worried about. The minutes and hours blended together as she lost herself inside the music with her lover. And that was most definitely what he was. Her lover. There was no denying that or getting around it. His hands were everywhere on her, urgent and proprietary in the way she had confessed to him that she loved.
At some point, the music began to change. Going from a fast paced heavy bass, to something hypnotic and sultry. Now, instead of bouncing and jumping together, laughing and carefree, he slowly started to grind his body against hers. That strong arm once again wrapped around her, pulling her into him and the air between them turned thick with sensual tension.
His amber eyes seemed to glow in the strange lighting and in them she saw something she very much recognized and was coming to relish. Possessive heat. She knew what followed a look like that and when he bent his head to
cover her mouth with his, she wasn’t disappointed. As his mouth devoured hers, that word that she hadn’t been able to get out of her head since yesterday roared through her mind. Mine.
Yes she was, she realized. She was utterly and completely his. There really wasn’t any turning back from that now. It seemed he had ruined her for every other man.
Fuck Prince Charming. All she wanted was Ben.
Chapter Nine
The aroma of freshly brewing coffee pulled at Emma’s awareness until she pleasantly drifted into consciousness. Without opening her eyes, she rolled onto her back and languidly stretched her arms over her head.
Wait. How was there coffee brewing in her motel room? Her eyes snapped open.
Ben.
She was in his house. In his bed. The damn mattress was so soft that she slept so well she almost forgot where she was.
They hadn’t left the rave last night until the wee hours of the morning. The exhilarating high of the night had started to wear off on the way home, leaving her dead tired. She had closed her eyes and rested her head against his back until the motorcycle had stopped moving. Instead of taking her back to her motel, he had brought her to his house, claiming he could tell how tired she was and his house was closer. Then, with no further explanation, he had practically carried her upstairs, tossed her one of his t-shirts and they fell into bed. For once, to actually sleep.
Now, as she lay there staring up at the ceiling, she couldn’t stop the contented smile from drifting onto her face. For such a remote, emotionally controlled person, the man sure liked to cuddle. And she wasn’t about to complain as he was excessively good at it. She had never felt so warm or so safe in her life as she did wrapped up in his arms.
As they had lain together, he had kissed her, slowly, deeply, tenderly until her lips felt swollen and she couldn’t hold her eyelids open anymore. Then he had started tracing light kisses down her chin, onto her neck. That’s how she had fallen asleep. In the cocoon of his arms with the sweet rocking of his lips back and forth across her skin.
