Текст книги "Outside the Lines"
Автор книги: Emily Goodwin
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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
CHAPTER TEN
Ben lives in the historic district of Grand Rapids. It’s yet another place I’d heard of but hadn’t invested the time into seeing. There are historic home tours I meant to go on, but forgot. And it’s not like I can just go knocking on doors. Though I have driven down his road a time or two.
His house is one of the larger old homes, and he tells me it was built in the early 1900s. He parks around back, inside a detached garage. The sun is setting, but when we get out, I slow.
“Wow,” I say and look up at the large, dark-gray Victorian house. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he says and gives the house the same starry-eye look I’m giving it. “It’s been a lot of work restoring her, but I love it.”
Hearing him refer to his house as a female is oddly charming. “Was it in bad shape when you bought it?”
He shakes his head. “Not horrible shape, but the previous owners attempted to do a lot of upgrades themselves when they weren’t skilled enough to do so. I had to take a lot out and redo what could have been left original.”
He holds my hand as we go up the wooden steps of the back porch. They creak under my feet. The old wood has a new shine to it, and a cast-iron table and chairs are positioned against the house on the covered porch. I imagine waking up and having coffee out here, looking across the way at the other historic homes. Oh, I wonder if his house is haunted! That would be terrifying and neat at the same time.
A dog barks when Ben sticks the key in the door. Huh, that’s interesting. He’s never said anything about having to go home and let a dog out.
“Settle down, Harumi,” he says when he opens the door. A yellow lab shakes her tail so hard her whole body is wiggling. She wildly greets Ben like she hasn’t seen him for days, then comes over to me. “She’s very friendly,” he says with a smile. “She’ll lick you to death.”
I bend over, heavy purse falling forward. I drop it on the floor and pet the dog—Harumi, I think Ben called her. “You smell my kitty, don’t you?” I ask as she presses her nose all over me and inhales. “He’s going to smell you and be mad at me. But that’s okay. He’s an asshole anyway. It’ll serve him right.”
Ben holds the back door open and calls the dog out to go potty. I pick up my purse and look around. We entered in through a mud room. A washer, dryer, and ironing board are on one side, with a stack of neatly folded towels on top of the dryer. The other side houses a shoe rack. Most of the shoes are Ben’s, but I spot a few that belong to a woman. A woman with small feet, to be exact.
I take my shoes off and go through the mudroom, which emerges into a large kitchen. The cabinets and granite countertops are white, contrasting with the dark wooden floor. The backsplash above the sink looks like stained glass, no doubt handmade by Ben. Everything is neat and orderly, looking like something from a magazine. There is an oval breakfast table by a large window that looks out to the back porch. I can see Ben toss a ball for Harumi in the small yard.
I set my purse on a chair and stand by the breakfast table, watching Ben for a few seconds before turning to look at more of the house. I’m assuming the woodwork is all original, including the ornate crown molding. I can see a large dining room with a big table off of the kitchen, and a living room to the other side.
The house has that old feel to it, but it’s clean and smells like paint, which automatically reminds me of Ben and makes my heart go pitter-patter (and my insides tingle). I want to look around the rest of the house, channeling my inner Winchester and check it out for spirits, but don’t want to be rude.
Just then, the door opens and Harumi runs in, followed by Ben.
“I didn’t know you had a dog,” I say, petting the overly excited lab.
“Yeah,” he says. “She’s an easy keeper. She’s ten, don’t let her spastic behavior fool you, and sleeps a lot.”
“Awww, she looks good for ten!”
“Thanks,” he says and runs his hands over the dog’s head.
“This is one of the coolest houses I’ve ever been in,” I say and look around. “I love old houses.”
“They have character,” he tells me. “Want a tour?”
I eagerly nod. We go through the kitchen in the dining room. I recognize the artwork as Ben’s right away. I can’t really say he has a style, because everything is so different. But there is something so irrevocably him about it.
The dining room opens to the foyer, with a grand staircase front and center. It’s U-shaped, with a balcony looking down from the second floor. On the other side is a fancy living room, set up with period appropriate furniture and lots of bookshelves. The other living room that I saw through the kitchen is completely modern, and feels almost out of place. There’s a small bathroom tucked away near the basement stairs, and a sunroom in the back of the house. It has easels and other art supplies set up, with paint splattered cloths draped over the floor. The smell of paint is strong in here.
“I try to do most of my work at the studio,” he says. “But I bring work home with me.” He gives me a smile and turns to take me upstairs.
There are three bedrooms and two bathrooms up here. There must have been more bedroom at one point, because the master bathroom is so big I’m sure it used to be an entirely separate room.
“This is my room,” Ben says and waves his hand to his side. I peek in. This room is modern and normal too. Well, normal but still impressive. The bed is lazily made and there is a pile of laundry on the window seat, and a few dog toys on the floor. A stack of papers clutters his desk, burying his laptop, and the top drawer of his dresser isn’t closed all the way.
This looks more like the Ben I know.
“We’ll see more of that later,” he adds. “That’s a guest room that Harumi has taken over, a bathroom, and another bedroom. And that’s it.”
“It’s huge and really pretty,” I say, noticing that the last bedroom’s door is closed. If it’s just a guest room, he doesn’t need to show me it, really. But the other doors are open, so it seems odd … as well as his “art room” and his bedroom being messy like his office yet the rest of the house is spic-and-span. And I really want to know who took care of his dog when he spent the night at my house last weekend.
“Thanks,” he says. “I might be odd to say I see a house like a giant canvas. It can give off feelings just like a work of art.”
I can’t help but think what kind of feeling does my little condo give off? Shabby-geek? Is that even a thing? If not, it needs to be.
“Hungry?” he asks, turning back to the stairs.
“I pretty much will always answer yes to that,” I say with a smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t, but I’m not gonna lie.”
“I do always answer yes to that,” he says and jogs down the stairs. We go back into the kitchen and Ben opens the fridge. “I’m not really a good cook,” he says apologetically. “But I’ll try my best for you.”
“You’re sweet,” I tease. “And really, I appreciate it. But if you want to order pizza or something I won’t hold it against you.”
Ben considers. “Pizza does sound good. Extra cheese and pepperoni?”
“And breadsticks?”
“Always breadsticks.”
He orders the food and then we go into the modern living room to watch TV. He pulls me into his lap as soon as we sit on the couch. I snuggle close to him, breathing in his cologne and feeling his firm muscles press against me. I’m tempted to kiss him and slip my hand inside his pants, but know the pizza guy will be here soon and we’d have to break up the hanky-panky in a few.
“What do you want to watch?” I ask him.
“I don’t really care,” he says and leans over to kiss me. “Whatever you want to is fine with me.”
I take the remote and flip through the movie channels, finding the second Hobbit movie starting in a few minutes. “Have you seen the first one?” I ask.
“I’ve seen them all, and all the Lord of the Rings movies,” he replies and it takes all I have not to jump his bones right there. “And read the books. The Hobbit was my favorite book as a kid.”
I’m smiling and I can’t stop. “I loved—still love it too! I got in trouble in the seventh grade for reading it during class.”
“You really were a rebel in your day,” he jokes.
“Oh, the worse. Reading in class, sneaking comics into church, and then it all went to hell once I got a cell phone and computer. I was a girl on a mission and my mission was trouble.”
Ben’s laughing, eyes sparkling as he looks at me. “And now?”
“I only use my superpowers for good, remember?”
“Oh, right. How could I forget?”
“What games do you play?” I ask, eyeing the Xbox. He has a PlayStation too, thank God.
“I haven’t played much lately,” he confesses. “I’ve been busier than I thought. I like Halo.”
I slowly turn to him. “We can play for a bit.”
“You know how to play?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah. And I’m good. I’ll probably kick your ass.”
“I doubt that,” Ben says, playfully elbowing me. “Loser gets naked?”
“Get ready to take your clothes off,” I challenge and straighten up.
He looks me up and down. “Yours will be hitting the floor first.”
“Sure, they will.”
He gets two controllers and pops in the game and sits close next to me. I haven’t played in a while but don’t doubt my skills. The virtual arena is my stomping ground. We get started and I again consider letting Ben think he’s the better player and beat me, but damn it, I just can’t. I’ve killed his character four times by the time the pizza gets here.
We set up the food on the coffee table, and Ben brings out beer from the fridge. We keep playing as we eat, getting louder and louder the more we get into the game, and the more beers we down.
Two hours later, we’re still playing, still drinking, and still having a blast. Ben’s phone rings and he takes his eyes off the TV.
“It’s my mom,” he says, letting me know why he’s ignoring the call.
“I don’t always answer my mother either,” I say. “Especially now because she keeps bugging me about my brother’s wedding that’s coming up.”
“When is he getting married?” Ben asks and shoots at me. I dodge out of the way just in time, but get hit by another player.
“Dammit!” I mutter. “The weekend after the fourth of July, but I don’t remember the exact date. I should know this. I’m in the wedding.”
Take that, cocksucker! I kill the online player who shot me, hoping I can heal before I get hit again.
“Nice,” Ben says. “Are you close with your future sister-in-law?”
“Not at all,” I chortle. “She’s not a horrible person, but she’s not someone I’d be friends with if she wasn’t being legally bound to my family either.” I shake my head. “Even my brother says his fiancé is a bridezilla. There’s like over a month or so left until the wedding and she’s freaking out over RSVPs. Hence my mom calling. I don’t see why they even sent me an invitation. They know I’m going.”
Ben chuckles. “You didn’t RSVP for your own brother’s wedding?”
“I kinda lost the invite,” I admit. “But obviously I’ll be there. I wouldn’t have spent money on a bridesmaid dress just to blow it off.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve been to a wedding,” Ben says. “My cousin got married two years ago, but that’s it. Most of my friends are already married or living up the single life with no intentions on settling down.”
“Same here,” I say. “My best friend got married like right out of college.” I risk my character standing still so I can grab the glass bottle from the coffee table and drink the last of my beer.
“Being in a wedding is fun,” he goes on. “If you like the person.”
“Hah, yes. Erin’s wedding was a blast. It was small yet very elegant with a subtle Star Wars theme.”
He looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “How the hell do you have an elegant Star Wars wedding?”
I smile. “It was like a regular wedding but with small Star Wars stuff added throughout. Half of it probably went unnoticed by half the people. But things stick out when you’re a fan, ya know?”
“Yeah,” he says and I remember that he mixed up Star Trek and Star Wars when we first met. Ugh. Such a shame. “I’ve never been to a themed wedding.”
“I go back and forth with wanting one and wanting something classic,” I say, still focused on the game. “Something fairytale-ish would be perfect. Like Disney Princess approved. But honestly, I’m not too concerned about the decorations. That’s not what it’s about, right?”
“In the end, not at all. I have a buddy who took years paying off his wedding. The credit card debt almost ended their marriage.”
“Yikes. It’s just not worth it. I want to get married because I’m in love and don’t want to spend the rest of my life without that person, not because I want a fancy party.”
“Me too,” Ben says. “I don’t have many requests for my wedding, whenever it happens. Just an open bar and All the Single Ladies is not to be played.”
I laugh. “Agreed. And no Sexy Back. Why are those two older songs go-tos for DJs?”
“I am okay with the chicken-dance song.”
“Oh, you have to have the chicken dance.” I laugh then realize we just discussed something mega important in a way that felt completely natural. We turn our attention back to the game, playing for another few minutes before Ben’s mom calls again. With a sign he sets his controller down and answers it.
“Hey, Mom,” he says then falls silent as he listens. I hear a female on the other end, talking fast—too fast for me to understand. Then Ben stands, saying something in Japanese, grabs the empty pizza box, and goes into the kitchen. I finish the round and stop the game. I can hear Ben talking to his mom, and although he’s speaking a different language, it sounds like he’s trying to calm her down. A minute later, he hangs up and comes back into the room, eyebrows pushed together.
“Everything okay?” I ask, taking his hands in mine as he plops onto the couch.
“Yeah,” he says, but sounds distracted. “My mom can be a little high strung sometimes. She’s a worrier over small things.”
“I can relate,” I say with a smile. I let go of Ben’s hands and gather the empty beer bottles, taking them into the kitchen. “Do you recycle?” I ask, feeling the floor vibrate behind me as he comes into the room.
“Yeah,” he repeats and pulls out a drawer that holds both the garbage and the recycling. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It was easy,” I say. “Can I have some water?”
“Of course.” He grabs a glass and fills it from the fridge. I down half in seconds. He lets Harumi out, stepping onto the porch. He seems upset, like whatever his mother called about really is weighing on him more than he’s letting on. I finish the water, go into the bathroom to pee, then go out on the back porch with him. He’s sitting on the steps, throwing a worn-out tennis ball for the old dog.
I take a seat next to him. Ben wraps an arm around me, holding me tight against him for a few seconds before he speaks.
“It’s a nice night.”
“Very nice,” I say. “I love summer nights like this. It makes me want to move somewhere warm where it’s always like this.”
“Hah, yes. Winter is coming sooner than we think.”
“Winter is coming,” I repeat, mentally smiling at his unknown reference. Harumi brings the ball back, her gait a slow trot. I reach forward and grab it, throwing it a few yards. I don’t want to make her run too far. “I’m so not looking forward to shoveling my driveway or clearing snow off the car when I leave work.”
“When it’s really bad sometimes I don’t leave the house,” Ben says.
“A man after my own heart,” I joke. “I don’t mind winter, I mean, I grew up here so I’m used to it. But when it drops below twenty-five, I want to throw in the towel and hibernate.”
He nods then flashes that grin. “I don’t go to the gallery when it’s bad. And by bad I mean snowing or really cold.”
“Lucky.”
“I can work from home, so it’s not a total day off.”
“Still lucky.”
“If you could work from home, what would you do?”
“Does it have to be a legit job, or can I get paid for just not destroying the world?”
His fingers slide down my shirt, inching the hem up. “Other than being paid to do nothing, what would you do?”
I shake my head. “I don’t really know. Come up with video games?”
He laughs. “That’s like doing nothing.”
“Hey now. A lot more work goes into that than you’d think. I’m sure I’d love almost every second of it, but it’s not like sitting down and playing.”
He nods. “I’m sure. I consider myself computer savvy, but I know there is more to it than I can even think of.”
“There is. Which is why I like it, and the field of technology is always expanding. It’s limitless and always challenging. What’s new and impressive now won’t be in five years. Hell, it won’t be in one year. And I love that.”
“I am jealous of your phone,” he says.
“Good, you should be. There are a few kinks to be worked out, but I like it much better over the current version.”
“It doesn’t come out until next fall, right?”
“Right. I might be able to score you a beta. Might is the keyword there though. I can try to pull some strings.”
“You don’t have to if it’s a hassle.”
“Nah,” I say and nudge him. “You’re worth it.”
The smile returns to his face. “Glad you think so.” His other arm goes around me, and before I know it, we’re kissing under the stars. Though, it’s not as romantic as it sounds, since mosquitoes and moths are buzzing and flapping around the porch light a few feet behind us.
Ben swats them away and takes his tongue out of my mouth. “Want to go inside and upstairs?” he asks. “I’m getting eaten alive.”
“Me too.” He stands and pulls me to my feet. “Maybe you can eat me alive once we’re inside,” I say it casually like a joke, but really, I’d love for him to go to down town on me again. He’s quite good.
He gets that I’m-gonna-fuck-you glint in his eyes and wets his lips. “I think that can be arranged.”
He calls in Harumi, who lazily runs over and jumps up the steps. Ben gives her a pet and opens the door, swatting at the bugs to keep them from coming inside with us. I fill my glass with water as he puts a scoop of food in Harumi’s bowl and locks up for the night.
I get a few gulps down before Ben’s arms clasp around my waist. I set the glass down and spin around to face him.
“Did I tell you, you look beautiful tonight?” he asks softly.
“You did, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”
His lips brush against mine, and a shiver runs down my spine. My eyes close and my breasts crush into him. “You’re beautiful.”
I run my hand through his hair, growing wet as he grows hard. He turns his head and kisses my neck as his hands drop to my waist, sliding forward and unbuttoning my jeans.
We never make it upstairs.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Somebody looks happy,” Mariah says to me at work Monday morning. A week has passed since Ben and I strolled the Statue Garden, and I stayed the night at his place. “Did you meet a boy?” Her eyes practically light up at the thought. She might live vicariously through other people’s love lives.
“I am happy and yes,” I say. “A very nice, handsome boy.” I lean across the small aisle. “One who knows how to please a woman. Multiple times.”
Her hand flies to her chest. “I remember those days. Enjoy them while they last,” she only half jokes and gives me a wink. “I’m happy for you. Is he going to be your date for the wedding?”
My heart skips an actual beat. I’d voiced my “always being seated at the single table” woes to her during the week, but hadn’t brought up Ben. I didn’t want to talk about this amazing man only to have him ghost away from me. But after the last two weeks, I’m pretty sure he’s not ghosting anywhere anytime soon. Or at least I hope not.
Ben made me breakfast in bed yesterday morning. We spent the whole day just lounging around, watching TV, talking, and making lame jokes we both found to be hilarious. Oh, and we had sex a few more times that day. Our goodbyes got longer and longer, words mixed with kisses and cuddles.
He doesn’t want to leave. I don’t want him to leave. It is like a high school romance where you can’t get enough of the other. But that’s how I feel. I can’t get enough of him. I’m comfortable around him. I’m myself. I don’t want to be anyone else when we’re together.
Being me—and probably being a realist—that dark cloud looms in the distance. We’re not exclusive. Nothing has been said, nothing has been promised or put off limits. He let me know from the start he goes out with other women.
Who am I to be the one to make him settle down?
I’m not. I’m just me, just little miss weird Felicity, a blunt nerd with occasionally poor social skills. After a long talk with Erin last night, she convinced me to enjoy what’s going on and let it go from there. I can’t control everything. I can’t key in commands like a computer and use hacks and cheats at life.
“I haven’t asked him yet,” I confess. “I’ve got time,” I say mostly to convince myself. I don’t see why he wouldn’t go with me. It’s just one night and it’s not that far, plus there is an open bar with top-shelf liquor. And cake. Awesome cake, made by my best friend, I should add.
“Yeah,” Mariah agrees. “You do.” Her eyes flick to the office door. Someone from corporate is doing an office visit today, and Cameron is going nuts over it, texting me how freaked he is when he gets the chance. He asked me to go out for drinks with him after work, like the minute we clock out.
I was hoping to see Ben again, but agree to drinks anyway. Maybe he can join us. He said he’d text or call me when he got done at the gallery today, whenever that is. I can’t get him out of my mind, and for the first time since I started at this place, I don’t finish my assigned work early.
The big wigs leave an hour before the office starts to shut down for the day, and the air is immediately less tense. I go back and forth between my work and Facebook, messaging some of my online friends to chat about random things.
I do twenty minutes of actual work, then switch back to Facebook to creep on Ben’s profile. He accepted my friend request not long after we met, and rarely updates anything. Lame. I need to creep, mister. He gets tagged in events and by other galleries, but nothing that sheds light on his social life. He does post a lot of his art to Instagram, and has an impressive amount of followers.
I’m about to switch to Pinterest when the little friend icon notifies me I have a request. I click on it and almost shit my pants.
Mindy fucking Abraham.
My mouse hovers over “delete request” but I stop myself. I’d rather just ignore it, or not let her know friending me on Facebook is a big deal. Because it shouldn’t be. It’s fucking Facebook and I’m a fucking adult.
Like an evil force has taken over my body, I accept her request. But it’s not because I want to creep through yet another profile. Everything was set to private before, though it isn’t hard to get around that. I click on her profile then close my eyes.
Nope. Not doing it. I already know how she will come across. Picture perfect. So picture perfect that it will make me wallow inside, wishing my teeth were that white, or my skin that clear. I’ll be jealous of her fake breasts, even though my real ones are better than hers. Just heavier, sweatier I’m sure, and slightly saggier.
But they felt better?
Yeah, sure. I can go with that. Instead of looking at her perfectly posed pictures of her perfect family, I unfollow her and exit out of the Internet. I should work. I’m at work, after all, and the day is almost over.
*
“So, give me deets,” Cameron says as we munch on chips and drink margaritas.
“We did dinner Friday night, saw a movie Saturday afternoon, then spend that night and Sunday just hanging out, playing video games and watching TV. Super laid back, but super enjoyable. And we fucked several times, of course.”
One of Cameron’s eyebrows goes up. He looks at his drink and grabs another chip, dipping it in salsa.
“What?” I ask.
“Oh nothing,” he says and flicks his wrist.
“Bullshit. What?”
He lets out a breath and looks at me, expression soft like he’s going to break bad news. “Nothing is exclusive yet, right?”
“Nothing’s been said.”
“And he still dates other women?”
“Not that I know of, but I mean, if we haven’t voiced the whole only see each other thing, then he can, right?”
Cameron nods. “Honey, I love you. You know that. I don’t want to see you to get hurt. I’m saying this out of love.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. Good thing there is a decent amount of tequila in there for it to float in. “Saying what?”
“You stay in. Play video games. Drink beer and eat pizza. You’re one of the guys.”
My eyebrows go together. “But we have sex. Frequently.”
“All men would fuck their best friend if they had a vagina.”
“You think I’m just friend material?”
“I’m not saying that’s all you can be. I’m just saying it sounds like that’s what Ben is doing. He still hasn’t taken you to his fancy art shows?”
“No, but—” I clamp my mouth shut. I’m not making excuses for Ben. If that really is the case and he’s using me for fuck-able guy time, then I feel more violated than a cucumber at an all-women’s prison. I gulp my margarita. “So, what do I do?”
“I’m not sure. Straight men confuse the hell out of me. Maybe just ask him?”
“No. If I don’t like the answer, I’d rather not know. Ignorance is bliss, after all.”
He pats my hand. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Look, it’s early. You’ve been seeing each other for what, three weeks? Give it time.”
“Right.” Three weeks isn’t that long. Not at all. But shouldn’t it be enough time to decide if someone wants to be with you or not? I knew after our first date that Ben is someone I want a relationship with. I’m not talking marriage here, but something a bit more serious than just casual dating. Though, if Ben were seeing other women … when? We spent a lot of time together over the last three weeks, especially the last two weekends.
“Anyway,” Cameron says and I know he feels bad. But not as bad as I’m feeling. Fuck. Fuck life. Fuck love. Fuck it all.
I take a deep breath and pick up my drink. No need to jump to conclusions. Nothing has changed between Ben and me, and I was super-freaking-happy just hours ago. I always knew being friends with your boss was bad news.
“Got plans for the Fourth?” he asks.
“Probably going home. My parents do this huge party on the lake. It’s one of those invite your friend and their friends and anyone they’ve ever met—as long as they bring food or drinks—kind of parties They have boats and jet skis for their cabin rental business so it’s actually fun.”
“Did you invite your boy toy?”
I shake my head. “Not yet, at least. I’ll mention it to him. Maybe if I promise hunting and fishing, and, uh, other manly things, he’ll want to come.”
“Liss,” Cameron says sharply. “I’m sorry, okay? Don’t make me feel bad.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. Just trying to give myself a reality check.”
He looks at me sympathetically. “No need for that. Just keep realistic expectations. That’s what I did, what I still do. It keeps this from breaking.” He puts his hand over his heart. “It’s a harsh world out there.”
“Fuck, yes it is.” I finish my drink and feel my head spin. I’m about to order another and drown my pretty much entirely imagined woes when Ben calls. My heart flutters like it did before. “Hello?” I say, not sure what I should feel.
Why do I let people get in my head so much?
“Hey,” he says. “What are you doing?”
“Getting drunk with my boss,” I answer, eyeing Cameron. “You?”
He lets out a breath. “Just got done talking with a pain-in-the-ass client. I don’t do completely custom work, ya know? Don’t tell me what to paint then have me paint it. I don’t work like that.”
“Yeah,” I say then fall silent.
“I was going to ask you out to dinner, but I guess if you’re already out I won’t. I miss you.”
And just like that my heart melts.
“Want to join us?” I ask without giving Cam the chance to object.
“Your boss won’t mind? And you don’t mind? I don’t want to bother you.”
“Not at all. I’d love for you to join us. I’m kinda drunk, and could use a DD.”
“Are you drunk and frisky?”
I laugh. “Always.” I tell him where we are and hang up. “You don’t mind, do you?” I ask Cameron.
“Actually, I’m really curious to meet this guy. So no, not at all.”
“Good.”
*
“You should call in sick tomorrow,” Ben says, hands going under my shirt. He pushes me back on my bed. We got back from the restaurant a while ago, and I successfully convinced Ben to watch the first episode of Game of Thrones with me. Now he’s hooked.
Mission complete.
“Cam would know I’m faking for sure.”
“Nah, say you got food poisoning.”
“We had the same thing.” Ben puts himself between my legs. “But no one questions explosive diarrhea.”
“Hah, so true. Is being hungover a good enough excuse?” He lowers his head and kisses my neck. “Or losing control over the lower half of your body after I fuck you so hard you can’t walk?”
Hot damn. My lips press together and curve into a smile. My eyes widen and my vagina quivers. “I’ve never thought there would be any words I’m unable to say to my boss, but those might be it.”
Ben laughs and kisses me, trailing his lips down my neck and across my collar bone. “And now you have to follow through on that promise.”
“I won’t disappoint.” He sticks his fingers inside my leggings, which are navy blue and covered in glow-in-the-dark stars and moons. The TV is the only source of light in the room, but the pattern still gives off a soft glow. Ben peels them off and tosses them on the floor. He moves back, accidentally knocking the TV remote onto the ground. It bounces closer to me, and I lean over to get it but end up tumbling off the bed. I land hard, laughing.
“Are you okay?” Ben asks, holding back a chuckle.
“I think so,” I say and push myself up, feeling super sexy on all fours. I whacked my shin on the nightstand on the way down. I stand and wince. “That’s gonna bruise.”
I toss Ben the remote and click on the bedside light to look at the angry red spot on my leg.
“Ouch,” he says and takes my leg in his hands. I’m so glad I shaved this morning. His lips brush against my skin.
“They’re going to have to amputate it, I just know.”
“Most likely. That’s a very serious injury. Looks infected for sure. We better cut it off now before the infection spreads.”
“Just call me Peg-leg Pete, the pirate.”
