by Anna Rezes
“Damn door,” he mumbles, as his muscular body settles onto the worn leather of my back seat. He closes the door and leans forward to study me closely.
Embarrassed he’s seeing me like this, I turn my head toward the windshield. My hair becomes a curtain to shield me from his inquiring eyes.
Leaning forward over the console, squeezing up next to me, he brushes my hair aside. He gently whispers, “Emily? What can I do?”
I shake my head as my voice catches in my throat. “I just wanna go home.”
I unbuckle my seat belt, determined to go, but his hand catches my wrist before I reach the handle.
“Emily?” he says, his words a caress. He watches me for a moment before taking a deep breath. He reaches both arms under my body and effortlessly lifts me into the back seat next to him.
His hand grazes my cheek, sliding down my jaw to tilt my chin up. I forget I’m upset. The only thing that matters now is Ben and his warm brown eyes welcoming me into his soul.
“Thanks for coming,” I whisper, placing my hand on his knee, greedy for the intimacy of another person. No, not just another person. I’m greedy for him.
Noticing my hand on his knee, he whispers, “I’m happy to be back.”
“You don’t look happy. I’m sorry to drag you out here.”
His hand covers mine. “Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for. I was only gone a week, Em. What the hell happened to you?”
I shake my head, unsure how to explain.
His thumb strokes the back of my hand and I adore his soft touch on my skin. The electric sensation trickles through me. He rests his forehead against mine and the closeness makes it impossible to think. I fall into him. He gathers my body against his chest and his warmth is overwhelming. I feel his breath exhale as he presses soft kisses against my head. I snuggle into him and hear the thrumming of his heartbeat. His powerful arms hold me close, and I get the bizarre and beautiful sense of home.
“Ben,” I whisper.
He lifts his head and pulls away from me. I lose my words feeling the cool wetness of my shirt for the first time without the presence of his heat.
His jaw clenches as he averts his gaze to the dark window. “I know you’re seeing him,” he says, in a low growl. “I just . . . I can’t.” He rubs a hand over his forehead before covering his mouth in frustration.
“Seeing who? You mean Patrick?” His eyes shift, so I assume I’m right. “I’m not seeing him. At least not for the reason you think.”
I don’t know how he knew. I want to tell him everything, but how can I possibly explain.
“Ben, I missed you. It’s probably not right how much I missed you. I don’t want you to leave me again.” My palm caresses his cheek stubble. His eyes close at my touch. My heart flutters as his hand cups mine and pulls it to his lips. He’s struggling for control right along with me.
My chest heaves and the words gush forward, “Ben, you’re my best friend and me . . . I have so many problems, and you know I’m not good enough for you—”
“Emily, that’s ridiculous. I love you exactly as you are.”
The significance behind his words and his gentle smile have me tossing all of my reservations out the window. I feel the urgency build between us and can’t hold back any longer. I slide my hand around the back of his neck just as his supple lips press into mine. One of his hands glides down to the small of my back while his other finds the nape of my neck. His fingers weave into my hair as his tongue caresses every part of my mouth, pushing me to the edge, and a moan escapes my lips. He responds with a growl while his fingers grip me tighter as his restraint slips away. We mold our bodies together as our mouths move in harmony. The tender passion grows desperate and frenzied, feeling undeniably right.
He pulls away to trail kisses down my neck, and I forget to breathe. My hands caress his broad shoulders, gliding along defined arms, and wrapping around his muscular back. Any semblance of control I once had is now entirely gone. In its place is a living, breathing fire responding directly to Ben’s actions.
As his tongue lingers on my neck, the inferno grows hotter, my breathing more rapid, and my urge to feel more of him consumes me. Desire overwhelms my senses, enhancing every touch, every sound. Wanting him desperately, I push my fingers under the rim of his shirt greedy to feel his skin. I run my hands up his spine exploring the smooth contours.
He pivots me so gently that I’m barely aware we’ve moved until I feel the cool leather against my back. His body rests against mine with his arms supporting his weight. Our passionate kisses continue. Lost in my desire to feel as much skin as possible, I tug his shirt up.
His lips stop moving and he rests his forehead against mine. I urge him to continue, but he doesn’t budge.
With a deep sigh, he says, “This is wrong. I’ve wanted you for so long. But not like this.”
The fear of his rejection extinguishes the inferno building inside me. I drop my hands. “How can you say this is wrong? Isn’t this what you want?”
He lifts his head to look at me. “Yeah, but do you?”
When I don’t respond, he lowers his mouth to whisper in my ear, “I’m in love with you, Emily Burk. I think I have been since seventh grade. Don’t try to hide from me. Talk to me.”
“You’re not allowed to be in love with me. You can’t.”
“Yeah, Emily, I’m pretty sure I can and why wouldn’t I be? You’re brave and beautiful, resilient and selfless, and God you make me laugh. You think you’re broken because of all the terrible things that have happened to you, but you’re wrong. They’ve made you softer and stronger at the same time. You have a depth that most people can’t comprehend, let alone possess. And I wouldn’t have you any other way. To me, you are perfect.”
With his face just inches from mine, I’m lost in his sincere dark eyes. My arms twist around his neck and I press my lips to his. I kiss him eagerly, and he returns my kiss just as amorously while pressing his body into mine. I tug his rain-soaked shirt up, and thank God; he doesn’t fight me this time. His face separates from mine as he whips it over his head and immediately his lips return to mine.
The feel of our skin touching sends searing desire through me. Temptation boils as my fingers graze the top of his boxers peeking out of his khakis. I’ve never done anything like this before, but I want him so completely. I reach for the button on his shorts.
“No,” he repeats in a rough whisper. “Not like this.”
“Why are you stopping?”
“Because the last we spoke you said you only wanted to be friends and you’re clearly upset about something.” He brushes the hair off my cheek. “I want you to be sure. And I don’t want to do this in a car.”
“I am sure. I want you, Ben. I can’t think of anything I want more.”
“God Em, you’re killin’ me! I’ve gotta move now before I can’t,” he says, without moving.
“Just to be clear, you’re turning me down?”
“I’m not turning you down. I’m postponing.”
“But why?”
“Because you just spent every day for the last five years pushing me away, so I need to know this isn’t just a reaction to whatever has you so upset.”
“I get it. I just don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it either,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose. “I’ve gotta move now.”
“You said that already.”
He shakes his head, “It’s harder than I thought it’d be.”
“That’s what she said.”
He laughs as he shifts his weight, letting me free of his restraint as he sits up. “Did you really just make a that’s what she said joke?”
“Sure did, Mr. Sexy-pants.”
He bites his lip and offers me his hand. He pulls me up so I’m sitting with my knees bridged across his lap and my head on his shoulder.
“Oh no!” I groan. “I think you might be my white knight.”
He laughs aloud, startling me.
> “What?” I question seriously, but the contagion of his laugh spreads a smile across my face.
“No offense Em, but you’re not the type to be rescued.”
“Offense taken,” I say, although I’m not sure why it offends me. Hadn’t I been the one to say that to Patrick just yesterday? “I made you drive out here in the middle of the night to come and get me.”
“Yeah and I’ll always come, but you’ll never be the damsel in distress waiting on prince charming to rescue you. If I showed up here tonight professing to be your knight in shining armor, you’d be walking home in the middle of this thunderstorm.”
“You might be right.” I shrug as my hand caresses his exposed chest. “You have a nice tan. You must have spent the whole trip on the beach avoiding your family.”
“Molly and I spent a lot of time on the beach together. At least our parents are fighting now instead of pretending everything’s okay.”
I take in the new information, leaving the patter of rain to fill the silence between us.
Ben breaks the quiet with a hesitant question. “Em, how did you end up here in the middle of the night?”
My face falls as I think back on everything that’s happened in the last week.
Ben continues, “You don’t need to explain. I’ve just never seen you so upset. At least not since . . . well, you know.”
“Ben, I want to tell you, but it’s complicated, and I’m afraid you’ll think I’m, umm . . . You might not want to see me anymore. In fact, you really should get back in your car and drive away now to save yourself the trouble.”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
After seeing his determination, I ask, “What do you know about my mom?”
His body freezes because he knows this topic is forbidden. The last time he spoke of my mom, I ran.
I continue when he doesn’t say anything. “She started hearing voices and acting strange, so my dad committed her, and three years later she killed herself.”
“I’ve heard the stories. I’ve just never heard you talk about her.”
“My mom wasn’t crazy. I . . . Eh . . .” He waits patiently, and when I gather my thoughts and pull my head up to speak, my words disappear. His beautiful, caring, chocolate eyes are desperate for the truth—a truth that would pull him into my chaotic world and lock him into a dark secret.
“Emily, you can talk to me.”
I shake my head. “As much as I want to tell you, it wouldn’t be right.” A tear escapes the rim of my eye, betraying me. “I can’t do this to you.”
Ben follows the tear as it trickles down my cheek. “You can,” he encourages.
I want to believe him. I want to wrap my arms around him and never let go, but I don’t want him to suffer the way my dad suffered because of my mom. Defeat settles in, finding a home in my heart.
“Emily, look at me.”
I lift my head and before I can interpret his look, his lips crash into mine. I don’t think. I respond, kissing him back with everything I have. My arms snake around him as he twines his hands through my hair. His body presses into mine. I remind myself to breathe when his lips break away. I arch into him, my head falling back as his tongue lingers on my neck. He places tantalizing kisses down to my throat and my nails grip the contours of his back as he teases his way to my cleavage.
Ben’s fingers find the top button on my shirt. He pauses as if asking for permission.
“Please,” I moan, needing to feel more of him against me.
His hands make quick work of unfastening my top. I bite my lip nervously when he pulls away to study the progress. His sensual look sends goosebumps over my skin and my heart feels like it’s going to gallop right out of my chest. His lips find mine and his breathing is just as erratic as my own.
“Emily,” Patrick whispers in my head.
I gasp, frozen by the intrusion. Ben pulls away. He doesn’t say anything, but he knows something’s wrong.
“Damn it, Patrick! Get out of my head!” I scream internally, while Ben waits patiently for me to make the next move. I cradle Ben’s face in my hands before lifting my lips up to kiss him.
“Think about what this will mean for him,” Patrick echoes in my ear.
Talk about killing the mood. I want to ignore Patrick’s warning, but he brings reasoning back to my incoherent thoughts. If I love Ben, I should let him go, but I don’t want to let him go. I want to be naive and young, and I want him to keep kissing me into a blissful ignorance.
The only sound inside the car is our ragged breathing. Even the drumming of rain against the roof has slowed. I quiet my breath, quiet my anger, quiet the boiling lust of the moment, but when all is calm, I hear Ben’s thoughts. It’s a low rumbling noise, a tangled network of ideas too interwoven to comprehend. Like a jumbled ball of yarn, it would take time to unravel and separate each strand. I open my eyes and all at once the strings unravel and his thoughts come together as one.
“I pushed her too far. She’s gonna run,” Ben thinks. In his mind, he doesn’t see me as broken at all. He thinks I’m strong, capable, and in a way, he sees me as his white knight. He believes I’ve already saved him somehow, but he’s blind to the potential devastation.
I like knowing what he’s thinking, but it’s an intimate invasion of privacy, so I pry my mind away from his. After touching his thoughts, I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave him. I should run so he’ll be safe. I know I should. But I can’t. I won’t. Instead of listening to the unappealing logic, I follow my heart.
“Ben,” I whisper, tenderly touching his face. “I’m sorry. You’re wrong. I’m selfish. I’m selfish enough to drag you into my mess of a life and I don’t want to let you go.”
“Good.” He gives me a little smile.
“Will you take me home?”
He nods, hovering above me. He lowers his face and kisses my neck one last time, inhaling deeply before he moves away.
The rain has dwindled to a drizzle. It may be the only chance we get before the downpour begins again, so we collect my things and head to Ben’s Corvette. As Ben buckles his seatbelt, he catches me watching. Beneath thick lashes, his eyes are smoldering. I pull him in for a simple kiss that quickly becomes heated. When our lips separate, Ben throws the car in gear and the tires spin in the gravel.
I ask, “Do you think my car will be okay here?”
“Yeah, I’ll come back in the morning to work on her.”
“I can only imagine how excited you’ll be if she gets stolen.”
“Any other time you’d be right, but after tonight I have a whole new appreciation for that beautiful hunk of scrap metal.”
“Of course you’d start appreciating her after she breaks down.”
“Are you sure you need to go home?” Ben asks.
“Yeah, my dad’s out of town, so I need to let Maggie out.”
“We can swing by and let her out, or you can bring her with you to my house.”
“Your house? And where exactly would we put Maggie in this car?” I look around the tiny Corvette.
He shrugs. “It was just an idea.”
“Or, you could stay with me,” I say, surprising both of us.
eighteen
It’s a quiet fifteen-minute ride to my house. I find myself wondering if Patrick is near. Is he stalking me? Shifting from mind to mind until he locates me? Or did he ever really leave my mind? I don’t sense his presence. I can’t hear his thoughts, but it’s unsettling to know he’s been keeping tabs.
The rain picks back up as we make our way to my front door. I shuffle for my keys before finding the one I need. I open the door to Maggie’s warm welcome into the dark room. I flip the switch. With a quick pop, the lightbulb flashes and the room goes dark. I’m tempted to call it an omen and walk right back out the door, but I push the fear aside and write it off as a fluke. I tread carefully through the darkness to the lamp on the side table. I flip the switch and dim light floods the room.
I sigh, glancing around. I
t looks just how I left it. No one is crouched in a corner waiting to pounce. As soon as the tension begins to fade, I feel a sudden vibration and let out a small squeal. Ben suppresses his laughter as I reach into my pocket for my phone.
“Hey, Dad,” I say.
“My flight was delayed, and my phone was acting up. Are you okay? What happened to your car?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “On my way home, my car broke down and Ben came to pick me up.”
“Ben? What happened to Patrick? Weren’t you meeting him tonight?”
“Yeah, I met him, but I left early.”
“Are you okay?”
It’s such an open-ended question, and I don’t know how to answer honestly. I’m not okay, not in the slightest. “Umm,” I hold a finger up to Ben, motioning that I’ll be just a minute. I venture down the hall into my bedroom, flipping on the light.
“Dad, Patrick knows.” I shut the door behind me. “I didn’t tell him, but I accidentally got in his head and saw things I wasn’t supposed to see. He was so angry. He knows I’m Valla blood. He said my green eyes should’ve given me away.” He’s quiet on the other end of the phone, and I try to wait for him to tell me what to do, but his silence is deafening. “Dad?”
“What exactly did Patrick say?”
I do my best to explain our conversation; from Patrick’s sleek anger to his accusation that I’m a killer, to his mother’s involvement and death, and his father’s disappearance. I tell him about Patrick’s offer to help protect me even knowing I’m the last Valla blood. The only thing I omit is the kiss.
Dad sighs. “It’s my fault. I should’ve prepared you. I just wanted you to have as much of a normal life as possible.”
“What do I do, Dad?”
“Where is he now?”
“I told him to back off and leave me alone.”
“What?” He sounds bewildered. “He knows who you are. He knows the danger. He offered to protect you and you told him to leave you alone?”
“Yeah! Dad, he said I’m a killer! He seemed to accept me as this murderous monster. You said most people didn’t know I exist. He definitely knows. How can I trust him?”
