I shove him again.
He stretches and sits up. When his eyes fully open and meet mine, he freezes. “You’re looking at me weird.”
I shake my head and stand, stomping my feet on the floor, hoping to shake the tingles away. “My leg fell asleep. Your head weighs like a hundred pounds.” It’s not entirely a lie.
“Why do you look like you want to punch me?”
“Sometimes I do want to punch you.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud. It was supposed to be an internal thought.
Ben’s face drops.
I’m such an asshole. “I’m sorry. That’s not true.” I sit down next to him. “It’s this dumb holiday. Like you said, this night is dreadful when you’re single.”
“It’s okay if you want to punch me, either on behalf of all single women or because of September. I deserve it.” He rubs his eyes then looks to me and points to his chin. “Go ahead. Give it a shot.”
I grin. “No, you don’t deserve it. What happened between us doesn’t matter after what we’ve been through since then. I mean, Frank, everything, who cares, right?” I do care, but I wish I didn’t. It was one date, one night, one boy who didn’t want me. Why can’t I get over it? “I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. I should be apologizing.”
“You have. A hundred times.” He feels terrible about how he left me that night. I shouldn’t make him feel worse. His entire life is different now, and here I am, acting like a princess. “I’m not myself lately.”
Ben turns his body to face mine. “Want to talk about it?”
“I…” I’m not sure how to explain to Ben that his presence unsettles me, especially when he’s being a friend. A sweet, perfect friend. How do I tell him that his ability to talk to me with such ease makes me nervous? I shake my head. “No.”
He reaches for my knee and gives it a squeeze, reminding me of how strong his hands are. “Can I be honest with you?” he asks.
I can’t find words when he’s holding my knee and looking at me intensely, so I nod.
“I’m not myself either. Since November, I’m lost. I miss Frank. Football. I miss Juliet’s friendship, my family, my dog. The match thing and the obnoxious red hearts and flowers all over remind me of having a girlfriend and being a boyfriend.” He looks to the floor when he continues. “Mostly, I miss how it used to be with you and me…”
At the mention of me, I dart my eyes to his. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his hands. I try to think of something to say to make him feel better, but he interrupts my thoughts. “I can’t find myself.”
I frown at his words. Ben hasn’t really talked to anyone about that horrible day. None of us mention it. It’s bad enough the day happened—to talk about it seems like an impossible task. Since September, Ben’s been the rock of the floor. He’s the go-to guy, the one who is always ready to help. Unlike Juliet’s roommate, Pooja, whose tagline is “be honest,” Ben is always the one to say whatever needs to be said to make someone feel better. Since November, we’ve all forgotten that he may need help too.
I scoot closer to Ben and rest my hand on his back. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through that day.” I talk near his ear, hoping he hears my words and doesn’t let them float into the room. “I’m so grateful you made it out of there, Ben. So many people are.”
Ben is inches from me, but when he looks up, straight ahead, his eyes go cold. He seems miles away. “I miss him.”
I keep my hand on his back and move a bit closer so that our legs rest against each other. “Me too. Even though the walls are covered and everything’s changed, I still wonder where he is when I step into the basement. Then I remember.”
How many times since November have I bounded down the staircase after a run, or dragged myself down after classes, and automatically wondered why Frank wasn’t playing his music or leaving a note on my door asking if I wanted to work out? A million. A million times.
Ben finally turns to face me, giving my knee another squeeze. “I’m so fucking sad when I remember he’s gone. He was so much fun, right?” His face brightens; the life returns to his eyes.
I smile, picturing Frank’s vibrant personality. “I couldn’t help being happy around him. That goofy grin. Those big green eyes. Remember all the times he tried to talk me into sex?”
Ben scoffs and shakes his head. “He was relentless. You always thought he was kidding, but he was serious.”
“Nah, I think he just tried to convince me because he knew I’d never.”
We both laugh, and Ben’s eyes stay with me. “I don’t know, Sweet Meg. You almost did with me. That’s the closest I’ve gotten in over a year.”
“A year?” I do the math in my head. “You mean besides Juliet.”
Ben lifts his eyebrows and exhales. “We never did it.”
I must be staring because he waves his hand in front of my face.
“What do you mean? You two never…?” My voice is an octave higher than usual.
“Nope.” He tilts his head and touches my chin. “You can close your mouth now. I never told anyone. I guess Chase knows, but—”
“Jeez, why not?” Who wouldn’t want to put their hands all over Ben? Like, all over Ben?
He shrugs.
I probably sound like an insensitive jerk. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” I can’t believe they dated for almost three months and never sealed the deal.
He settles back on the couch. “Juliet’s been my best friend for years, but it wasn’t right for either of us. It’s better that we didn’t do it, actually.”
“Yeah, right.” I roll my eyes.
Ben chokes a laugh. “Okay, maybe not ‘better.’ Maybe ‘smarter’ is the word I’m looking for.”
I hate Juliet for fighting so hard for Ben just to let him go. For months, years, she’d been after him. She followed him to New Jersey, finagled her way into Sheridan to be close to him. Finally, the guy gives in and… I don’t understand.
I lean back next to him. “What’s wrong with us, Ben? We should have lovers falling at our feet.”
Ben laughs. “Hell yeah, Smith. They should be dropping like flies around us.”
After a second of silence, he grins, and my hormonal butterflies start their flutter. Nervous, I bolt off the couch and gather my stuff. “We should get back.”
Ben doesn’t move. I look down at him and flip my palms to the ceiling. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you think my match saw me at the gym today and ran the other way?”
I did, but not because you think. “She’d be crazy to do that.” Maybe I am crazy.
“This from the woman who hates me.” He smiles, borrowing my tone from earlier.
“I don’t hate you!” I smack his arm—his giant, muscular, flannel-covered arm.
He catches my hand as I try to pull away and holds it. His smile fades. “I’m glad you don’t. That night in September wasn’t me. I know I hurt you. I hope you know I’d never do anything to hurt you again.”
I know him well enough to know that to be true. Still, he’s too close to me, and I’m not sure how to react. “It’s fine. Not hurt.”
I pull my hand away to put some distance between us, and he reaches out to smoosh my nose. He has some sort of thing about my nose. Since the day we met, he’s always tried to grab it. “It blows my mind that you don’t have a date tonight. You’re so damn cute,” he says.
The hormones tingle their way into the ring for another round. That blasted flush heats me. My heart starts to pound, but I fight it all off and brush his hand away. “Nice try, Riley.”
“What?” His brow furrows and his voice raises a few notches. I picture him as a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“I know what you’re up to. I’m so cute? I hate being called ‘cute,’ and I’m not dumb enough to let you into my room again.”
Ben palms his beard, studying me as I rummage through my bag. “You know, Chase says I should find some
one to have casual sex with until I find my ninety-fiver.”
At the mention of casual sex, I freeze and look up at him. Sex? Casual? With someone? Me? I take a deep breath to scatter the hormones and play it cool. “Really. What does that have to do with me?” Everything, considering I’m the ninety-fiver.
His brown eyes dance as he points between us. “You’re not getting any. I’m not getting any. You do the math.”
I squint and focus on his face. I can’t tell if he’s teasing. He looks adorable, and I know it’ll feel good. I haven’t felt good, that way, in a long time. Casual means no drama, no emotional games. Doesn’t it?
“We could…” Ben sings the words, his eyes lingering on mine. My body wakes in areas that shouldn’t be awakening. Not now. Not with Ben. His lips move again, and his eyes trail my body. “For fun…”
The way he’s looking at me, gazing over my body, talking about fun casual sex, there’s no way I can win. I’ll gladly forfeit to get my hands on him. I take the step toward him, and realization lights his face. He smiles—a smug little smirk that I can’t wait to kiss away. Oh I’m in, I’m about to say, as the jangle of keys brings me back to reality.
A security guard approaches us through the stacks. He swings the keys around a chubby finger and towers over the couch. “Are you two behaving?”
I stare at Ben for one more second, appreciating the rise and fall of his chest and how his smirk turns to a frown. When neither of us answers, the guard grunts and points to the clock on the wall. “Library’s closing in an hour. Finish up your business.”
As he walks past us, I shake my head and scatter my hormones back to their proper place. I should not be kissing Ben Riley, in real life or in my imagination. I’ll have to resist his charm—those good looks and that damn grungy facial hair—because in no world will I be Ben Riley’s fuck buddy. It’s bad enough I already opened that door just to have him slam it in my face. Casual or not, it’ll never work, so I’m not going to do it.
No. Fucking. Way.
Ben
Back at Sheridan, Megan walks straight to the lounge and throws her stuff on the table.
“What are you doing?” I grab two bottles of water out of the lounge fridge.
Megan rolls herself into a little ball on the couch. “I’m sleeping. I’m not going in my room with Maggie and Win celebrating Valentine’s Day. Maggie will think I want them to vacate, and they’ll just go to Winston’s room and bother Rod.”
“Then you’re coming with me. Chase and Jules are in the city. You can have his bed.”
She laughs. “No way, Mr. Casual Sex.”
“I promise I won’t touch you.” Just please don’t leave me alone tonight.
“Really, I don’t think so.” She rolls onto her side, facing the back of the couch, and rests her head on her hands. Her blonde hair falls behind her, exposing the back of her neck.
“I promise. No touching… unless you ask me to.”
She flings her body around and scowls at me, but when I flash my best grin, she blushes. Then she yawns and shuts her eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll stay here. I’m too tired to move. Maybe you can make yourself useful and bring me a blanket.”
I can’t resist. It seems wrong to leave her sleeping alone in the lounge, so I slide my arms under her body. Before she can object, I lift her. She weighs less than what I usually bench press. I’m able to squat to grab her stuff in one hand and the bottles of water in the other. Even though she’s light, she’s a runner, and she’s solid. Her thighs are hard over my forearms.
Megan wiggles. “Are you crazy? Put me down!”
“You said you were too tired to move. I’m not leaving you in the lounge.” I walk her down the hall and place her in front of my room. I dig out my key and unlock the door, pointing her inside. “Go.”
She stands for a second before I wave her in again. I’m hoping she’ll go for my bed, but she goes for Chase’s. I follow and help her out of her coat. She pulls off her boots then turns to me, crossing her arms over her chest. The blueness of her eyes always catches me by surprise and there’s this ongoing need-to-touch issue with her nose. She has these cute little lips too. They’re always pink and puckered, like they’re waiting to be kissed.
She watches me watch her. “Why are you standing here? Stop staring at me.”
Am I? “I can’t help it.”
“Maybe I should leave.” Her voice is small as she leans down to get her boots.
She probably should leave, but I don’t want her to go. I like being around her, having her blue eyes on me. I like the way she talks to me, how she flirts with me, how she blushes when I flirt back. “Stay. I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight.”
She straightens, and I catch her eyes land on my lips. When I grin, she looks away.
“Is it hot in here?” She lifts her hair off of her neck with one hand and fans herself with the other.
I walk to my dresser and turn on the small oscillating fan. “Better?”
Meg walks to the dresser and places her face in front of it. The moving air blows her hair away. “Much.”
I check her out from head to toe as she braces herself against my dresser. Even though the room gets cooler, I’m hot, and I start to sweat. I pull my gaze away from the sexy blonde posing in front of my fan and find the water bottles. I offer one to Meg and take a sip of the other. “So,” I say when she turns to me. “What should we do tonight?”
Meg spits out her water. “Sleep.”
I chuckle. “Yeah… that. That would be fun.”
She nods and holds my gaze as she takes another sip of her water bottle. The gesture is simple, but my body tightens at her sexy glare. I know we both have the same thing on our mind, but I’m too much of a nice guy to push it and she’s too proud to admit it. Still I can see it. It’s in her blush and in the way her eyes dance. The way her shoulders move with her breath. The way she licks her lips after she takes her sip.
I move a step closer until there are only inches separating us. I gulp, remembering the last time we were together back in September. Her soft skin, her full lips, the little noises she made. What was I thinking when I walked out on her?
She presses her shaky hand to my chest. “We shouldn’t.” Then she walks past me to Chase’s bed, lifts herself onto the mattress, and wiggles back, crossing her legs under her.
I join her at the bed, standing in front of her. “Shouldn’t? Does that mean we could?”
Her eyes glimmer as she looks at my lips, and my entire body wakes up. She grins. “For argument’s sake, what exactly ‘could’ we do?”
Hmm. Hope. “We could… go on a date?”
“We can’t do that.” She shakes her head and stiffens.
I’m not going to argue, even though I have so many things I want to tell her about me, about Juliet and me, about how I feel about her and the night we went on our date. But if there’s a smidgen of hope for this to happen tonight, I don’t want to mess up this opportunity either. I don’t really know how this casual stuff works.
“Oh…kay.” I slow down to ponder my next words. “We could… make ground rules?”
Megan raises her eyebrows. “Ground rules?” She carefully contemplates the words, dragging them out and nodding. “Ground rules could work.”
Sounds like a “yes.” “So… how do we… do… that?”
Megan bites her lip, and her gaze falls to my neck. She hasn’t touched me, but I don’t think she could turn me on more if she did. Her eyes travel over my face, down my shoulders, like she’s planning what she wants to do. I can’t take mine off of hers though.
When she finishes her visual journey, and when her gaze ends up back at mine, she tilts her chin. “Do what, again?”
I gulp. “The ground rules, remember?”
“Oh right. Ground rules.” Her words are hidden in her heavy breath.
I put my hands on her crossed legs, holding her knees as I lean in to kiss her. She stops me with a finger to my lips. “P
aper,” she whispers.
I freeze an inch from her face as she presses her hand against my mouth. “Paper?”
She nods. “Can you get me some paper?”
“Paper?” I jerk my chin away and try to catch her hand in my mouth, but I miss.
She smiles. “Paper. It’s this flat stuff that’s made from trees, and you can write on it.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Ha.” The woman wants paper. I can do that. I leave her on Chase’s bed to shuffle around my desk. I bring a notebook and pen to her. She flips open the notebook and writes GROUND RULES on the top line.
“Really? You’re serious?”
She smiles as she draws an underline and starts to number. “I know it’s a little crazy, but I’m going to need a contract.” She looks to the ceiling and taps the pen on her chin. Just like that, she switches from sexy to playful.
She points the pen at me, and I worry she’s changing her mind—which would be fine, of course, but very disappointing.
I hold my breath until she says, “Number one, I’m not dating you, so don’t ask.”
“Uh—”
“Non-negotiable.”
“If you’re so serious about ground rules, what if—”
She holds up one hand and scribbles with the other. “Number two, this is a contract for sex only—no sleeping together, no PDA, no mushy stuff.”
“Wait—” If I could slow her down, maybe she’ll let me explain that I want more. But then again, casual sex wouldn’t be terrible. It was my idea after all—well, Chase’s really, but I started this thing.
Meg looks like she’s writing an essay for mid-terms, balancing the notebook on her knee and running her pen across the page. “Number three… the Pooja Rule. Honesty at all times. If either of us wants out, we’re out.”
She’s scribbling like mad, and I doubt she’d give me the time of day, never mind listen to me apologize about that night in September. Since I can’t beat her, I play along.
“Do I get a say in these rules?” I grab the pen, mid-scribble, and pretend to examine the list. “Hmm.” I tap it on my beard like she had on her chin. “Number four.” I write the number under her wall of text. “We use protection and be nice to each other at all times.” More Chase advice. “Number Five… frequency.”
She Runs Away (The Sheridan Hall Series Book 2) Page 3
