by J. M. Miller
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.” We started walking toward the houses. The air was refreshing but the vibe between us was smothering. Both of us quietly wrestled with our thoughts. When we reached my place, I had to say something. I wanted to explain everything to her, but some of it I couldn’t even if I tried. “LJ, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable at all. God, I’ve had to apologize to you way too much. I’ve been screwing this all up.”
“No,” she replied instantly. “No, you’re not screwing anything up, and you didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. I had fun. The most fun I’ve had in a while, actually. I just hope that I didn’t do something …”
I shook my head and cupped my hand around her arm. “I want this.” I gestured between us. “I mean, I really would like to see where this goes.”
“But,” she said, feeling my hesitation, her voice hushed.
“But I don’t think we have to … rush.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt like a moron. I had to risk that though because spilling the truth about Harper and the well seemed like a far bigger mistake at this point.
She smirked and tilted her head, trying to decide if I was joking. Her angelic eyes stared me down, riddled with unasked questions. It was such a cute look and it only made me want her more.
“So …” she said, dragging out the “O” sound. “You don’t want to rush things?”
At those doubtful words, I gave in. I grabbed her face in my hands and pushed my lips to hers again, catching her off-guard. It took her a second to realize what was happening, but then she dropped the basket and joined me. I moved one hand to her waist and the other I slipped into the flow of her smooth hair, cradling the back of her head.
Wanting to be closer, I squeezed her tighter against me. The kiss became more urgent. Our mouths moved faster, and her fingers gripped my back for support. Then my jaw widened too far and I winced back, breaking our connection. She stared at me, her eyes wild and confused. “Ouch.” I laughed lightly and worked my jaw back and forth. “I guess it needs more time to open that far.”
“I’m so sorry, I forgot,” she said with a shy smile.
“Yeah. That was enough to make me forget, too.”
She moved closer to me and ran her hand along my jaw. After her shivers on my bike, I didn’t expect her hand to feel so warm. Her fingers trickled across my facial hair, shooting signals to every nerve of my body. I forced myself to take an excessively deep breath, drawing in her sweet smell. She planted a small kiss on the corner of my lips and backed away. “None of this gets you out of basement cleaning.”
“Really?” I smiled. “It was worth a shot.”
I stuffed the washer with clothes and smacked the lid shut. It shook and bounced violently, like it was inside a mosh pit at a metal concert. Unfortunately, the alternative music I had plugged in my ears wasn’t exactly the same beat, but that didn’t stop me from bashing the lid and kicking the base with the same tempo to end its tantrum.
Something landed soft on my shoulder and I swung around, startled. Ben staggered backward to dodge my flailing arms. He raised his hands in a peaceful manner and grinned at me. I yanked out my earbuds and the washer’s violent noises invaded my ears.
Ben flipped the lid to stop the washer, twisted the agitator a few times, and closed the lid again before turning to stare at me. The washer hummed quietly and Ben quirked an eyebrow.
“What?” I asked with a sheepish grin.
“Wow. Remind me never to ask for your help fixing anything mechanical,” he teased.
“Oh, c’mon! I’ve hit things before and it’s helped.”
“If that’s the case, I feel sorry for anything you’ve ever owned. I hate to think of what you did to that car you miss so much.” His brown eyes widened and he opened his mouth in fake shock.
I smacked him in his chest. “Jerk.”
“I’ve been called worse,” he said, grabbing my wrist gently after my hand left his body. He held it for a moment and searched my eyes intently.
“I bet you have,” I replied with a smirk.
He smiled and stepped closer. His hands fell to my hips and I placed mine on his arms, sliding my fingers under his short sleeves, feeling the grooves of his bare arms. He dropped his face to mine, touching the tips of our noses. His lashes were low, hooding his eyes. The thought of our kisses yesterday made me giddy and intoxicated. I couldn’t believe we crossed over this intimate line so easily. I’d been here for two weeks and it almost made me sad to think that I already knew him better than most of my Summerlin friends. It was like we were bonded. It just felt natural.
I closed my eyes and inhaled a blend of mint and grass, a heavenly mixture that I’d always link to him now. His lips grazed the side of my cheek, creating a shiver through my body that I was sure he intended. His breath crossed my ear. “I thought you said you didn’t need my sissy arms for anything,” he whispered with a soft laugh.
I didn’t even care that he was teasing me about the comment I’d made before our ride yesterday. He felt so damn good that his history-loving ass could’ve recited the Emancipation Proclamation and it would’ve made me shiver the same way. I gripped his arms tighter when he moved to back away. “Can’t a girl change her mind?” I asked, staring into his amused eyes.
I reached up to his head, spread my fingers through his messy hair, and pulled his lips down to mine. I knew from the moment we connected yesterday that whatever was happening between us was completely different than anything I’d ever experienced. He was the most generous guy I’d ever known and it reflected in the way he kissed me. Our lips just danced together effortlessly, without thought, leaving me to wallow in all the delicious sensations it brought.
He smiled against my lips and said, “Mmm. This is not going to be easy is it?” His hands pressed into my hips and gently pushed my body away.
“What isn’t going to be easy?” I asked as our lips parted for the last time.
He backed up with a breathy laugh. “Taking the less-traveled and far slower path.”
“I’m a little concerned that you consider slow a less-traveled path. Should I be worried?” I asked, walking back toward the boxes in the corner to start cleaning.
“Well, I guess I just shot myself with that one. I don’t think that’s usually brought up until at least the fourth kiss.” He paused to look at the well paintings before coming to join me. “No, you shouldn’t be worried. Honestly.”
“I believe you. But I’m not above using a stick to beat down ex-girlfriends.”
“Good to know, but not necessary.” His voice was calm, indifferent, like he’d never had a single girlfriend who would turn into a raging psycho to fight for him. I didn’t see it that way. He was gorgeous and sweet. His smile alone would make me want to slap a bitch for simply speaking to him. I’d go even further for that kiss. And despite his admission suggesting several one-night, easy-path stands, I found it hard to believe any girl would willingly let him go.
My thoughts moved to Harper, the girl whom Nurse Mitchell told me about. She had to have been his girlfriend. If she was, the reason he hadn’t had many girlfriends made perfect sense. I couldn’t begin to imagine how hard it would be to get over the death of someone so close. The only other connection to him that I knew of was Emily. The way Emily looked at him my first day of work gave a lot away. Her smile wasn’t filled with intrigue, like the usual flirty type. Her gaze was sultry enough to light a room on fire, telling me they’d probably hooked up, at least once.
So if my tally was accurate, I was now in competition with some random one-nighters, a dead girl, and possibly a fashion fraud. And I wouldn’t underestimate any of them. Some may never matter. One would be a constant: if he loved her, he’d love her forever. The other would be a fight: she wouldn’t be afraid to go after what she wanted, even if she had to take the cheap route.
I shuffled a few small file boxes out of the way and Ben stepped beside me, watching. “Aren’t
you going to help?”
“I’m awaiting instructions,” he replied.
“Move stuff, Sissy Arms.”
“Well, I’m not the boss down here. You are. So you need to tell me what you want me to do.”
“Technically, you aren’t the boss anywhere,” I said with a wink, intending to hit a nerve about my impending hostile takeover of Stockton Estate.
“Oh, I’m a boss somewhere.” He winked back, igniting every nerve in my body. His eyes focused on my lips eagerly. “I’m almost wishing we could have a re-do of last week’s storm so I could be alone in the dark with you again. But, I’m going to move away now because I actually want to help you get some work done, and that won’t happen if I keep staring at your lips.”
I laughed. “Okay. Just take that corner by the support wall.”
It was silent while we worked. Because of my new habit, I almost plugged my earbuds in, even though I knew I barely needed them here. My headaches had become nearly nonexistent at home. I didn’t have any yesterday, even when I was out with Ben on his dirt bike. School was a different story, but it was nice not having to worry as much about them at home.
We shifted, stacked, and sorted through boxes and papers, taking random breaks if we found anything interesting enough to note. Most of the papers were illegible garbage. Others were handwritten notes stating items, names, or daily routines, like memos for a mind desperately searching for a way to hold on. It was sad to go through them, seeing the evidence of Aunt Janine’s suffering during her last years.
After a couple of hours, I spotted a sticky note with the words “hiding spot” written on them. The papers around it gave no other clues. “I guess she did like to hide stuff,” I stated, walking with the paper held up for Ben to see. I rounded a stack of boxes and stood in front of him. “I’ve found a ton of these nonsense memos.”
“It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it? Do you need a break?”
“Yeah, in fact …” I paused, looking at the paper before dropping it on the box he was going through. “This one reminded me of what you said last week. That there are hiding spots around here.”
His lips quirked in a lopsided smirk. “Funny you should mention that. I just found a new one myself, actually.”
I tilted my head, wondering what he could’ve possibly found standing in the corner next to the support wall. “Really?”
“Really. I was getting ready to sneeze,” he said, pointing toward the ceiling. “I guess the discovery stifled it.”
I stared up at the darkened corner of the support wall. The plank boards that supported the floor above weren’t nearly as long as the rest of the basement’s ceiling, their cuts forming a small square. I followed my eyes straight down, noticing horizontal planks in the support wall peeking out from behind stacks of boxes. “Is that a trapdoor, and a ladder?”
“Only one way to find out,” he said and started moving the boxes out of the way.
I grabbed boxes from him and situated them next to the washer. “What’s above us?”
“I think we are under the main office.” He slid the last box over and looked at me. His eyebrows arched curiously. “Ladies first?”
“No way. I’m not a fan of mysterious places.”
“All right then,” he replied and climbed up the ladder planks. When he reached the ceiling, he pushed the square. It didn’t budge. He rammed it harder with the heel of his hand and it popped up. He looked back down at me. “Okay, let’s go.”
I stepped onto the first plank as he opened the door fully. Dust escaped, dropping down to me in speckled cloud, forcing me to drop my eyes to shield them. After a few seconds, I took a deep breath and continued behind him.
“I hope you aren’t staring at my butt,” he said, climbing ahead of me.
“I wasn’t, but now that you mentioned it, I think it may take my mind off other things.”
“Like what?”
“Like entering a dark, enclosed space,” I replied as I lifted my last foot out of the basement, pushing myself farther into the vertical coffin. There was enough space to turn around, but not enough to fit two side by side.
“So you are a little nervous in the dark.” He stopped moving and glanced down to me. I tilted my head up to see him, but I could only make out the outline of his features in such dim light.
“Just a bit,” I said, letting out a long breath to try and ease the crushing knot in my lungs. I looked straight ahead and tried to ignore the spider web my hand touched behind the next plank.
“I thought I noticed that during the blackout last week. We are getting closer to the second floor so don’t worry. There has to be an exit. Your bedroom is split above the main office and living room, right?”
“Yeah. Do you think it’s somewhere in my bedroom?”
“Yeah, and hopefully it opens as easily as the entrance,” he said then stopped. “Do you hear that?”
“What?” I whispered with a light cough, inhaling too much dust. I strained my ears and heard mumbling behind the wall. “Is that my dad and Gavin?”
“Sounds like it. I hope your dad doesn’t decide to go to the basement to check on us.”
“It won’t happen. Gavin might, but not my dad.”
We moved up two more planks before Ben stopped again. I heard a soft knock from his hand hitting the wood and then light flooded the tunnel, uncoiling the tightness in my chest. More dust kicked up with the disturbance, swirling around me as I ascended the last ladder rungs. I looked up into a group of clothes hanging beside Ben’s dark brown eyes as they peered down at me. He extended his hand to help me out.
“My closet. Seriously?”
He slid my clothes along the rod, making room for us to stand. “It’s pretty well hidden back in this corner. I’m not surprised no one noticed it.” He ran his hand over my clothes, stopping to eye a black, strapless A-line dress. He pinched the satin waist ribbon between his fingers and looked at me. “Nice.”
“Thanks. It’s one of the only dresses I kept.” I wouldn’t tell him the main reason it made the cut was because it still fit my squishy butt.
“Maybe I’ll get to see it on you one day.”
“I thought I looked better without dresses and pedicures?” I asked with my hands on my hips.
“Anything you wear now will undoubtedly look better.” His gaze met mine and he lifted an alluring brow.
“Nice cover,” I replied, pushing past him through the closet door with a smile I wouldn’t let him see. His answer was so sweet that I didn’t want to consider it real. But inside I was overjoyed. I could hear Dad and Gavin’s muffled voices downstairs so I tiptoed to close the bedroom door.
Ben stood by my bed. Light shined through the windows behind him, like a sublime message, outlining his amazing physique. “It wasn’t a cover. I guess I’ll have to find a way to prove it to you eventually. For now though, I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay up here. It’s cool that your dad is letting me help you clean the basement, alone, but for some reason I don’t think he’d be thrilled to catch me in your room.”
I sauntered over to him, staring at the way his plain gray T-shirt fit the shape of his upper body. I splayed my fingers over one of his biceps and smiled. “Sissy.”
He smiled so big that his dimples creased deep into his cheeks. I ran a finger to the side of his face so I could feel one. He let out an amused breath. “Maybe I am a sissy,” he said, glancing around the room. His eyes stopped on the picnic basket on the top of my bed.
“You always talk a big game,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his back, drawing his eyes back to me.
“What can I say? It’s a bad habit.”
“Bad, huh?” I asked, walking him to the bed. He pressed his lips together to suppress a new smile as the back of his knees touched the mattress. I smirked and pushed his stomach, forcing him to fall onto the bed. He turned his face to watch where he landed then cocked his head curiously.
I followed his gaze to the light green T-shirt
bunched at the corner of the bed, behind the picnic basket.
Oh, no.
I covered my face with my hands as he stretched across the bed to grab it. This is so humiliating.
“Nice shirt,” he said with a breathy laugh as he sat up straight.
“Yeah,” I squeaked out and finally dropped my hands. The room was suddenly ten times warmer and my cheeks were to blame.
He took in my embarrassment with a wry smile. “Did someone give this to you?”
I shook my head with a timid smile of my own. The humiliation alone was enough to drive me mad, but the spark in his eyes nearly sent me running for the closet to hide.
“So tell me,” he said, his voice low, humorless. “Are you sleeping with my shirt intimately or is it just up near your pillow for some other reason, like to catch drool or something?”
I turned my face toward the closet and his hand reached up to my waist, bringing my attention back to him. “I don’t drool when I sleep,” I replied, possibly even more mortified.
“So, what is it then? Did you just throw it there?”
I shook my head slowly and pinched my lips.
“Hmm. Maybe you were upset and needed my shirt’s shoulder to cry on?”
“You aren’t going to stop until I say it, are you?”
“Nope,” he said with a wicked smirk.
“I slept in it last night. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” I whispered shamefully.
He dropped his eyes to the shirt for a moment and he took a deep breath. When he lifted his face again, he tugged my waist closer. “Good God. I am not going to be able to stop thinking about that for a long time. I probably won’t be able to get it out of my head until I see it with my own eyes.”
I let out a relieved breath. “You don’t think I’m a psycho for wearing your shirt to bed?”
“No, I still think you’re a psycho,” he deadpanned.
I smacked his arm. “Shut up!”
He laughed. “Seriously, though. What I said before was true: you look far better in anything you wear now. But nothing, and I mean nothing, will look as good as how I’m picturing this shirt on you. In my opinion, of course.” He tossed the shirt back on the bed and grabbed the other side of my waist, gripping the sides of my jeans with clenched fingers, drawing me farther between his spread legs.
