“DoesBen want to marry you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No,but I knew right away that I wanted Stephen. Ben … No. But IlikeBen.Ben is good at buying san-sandwiches, and he’s sort of good at sex.” I bit mylower lip to keep from snickering at the comment. “But I don’t want tomarryhim. You don’tmarrybecause of sandwiches and sex. I wanted to marryStephen, and he never wanted sex ever because I don’t have a dick. Do you thinkif I had a dick, Stephen would’ve wanted to marry me?”
Iglanced down to my arm, resting between her sweatshirt-covered breasts,and—shame on me—I momentarily wondered what they looked like outside of theirusual garments. I let the image of possibly exaggerated perfection, remain infocus for two blips before pushing it away and looking back at her face. It wasimpossible to ignore the tear that trickled towards the flannel of my pants andI felt my heart twist in a way that could only be described as torture.
“Holly.”I sighed, turning away from her moist eyes to look at the hands that gripped myarm to her chest. “Stephen didn’t want to marry you because he knew you werewrong for him. He knew that somewhere out there, some guy was wandering around,wondering where the hell his damsel in distress was. He had to let you go, andyou had to come here, just so that guy could find you.”
Shesmiled, dreamily looking up at me from her spot on my lap. “Not Ben, though,right?”
Mythumb betrayed my original intent of behaving myself and boldly caressed thecurve of her lower lip. “Not Ben.”
Ihadn’t a clue who Ben was, aside from seeing him for a total of five minutes atthe store, and I felt a little guilty for throwing him under the bus, but all Ineeded to know was that he was the guy she had been sleeping with for a month,and that in itself made him my mortal enemy.
“Doyou still want to get married?”
Thequestion startled me, and I thought for a brief and foolish moment that she hadactually asked me if I’d marry her. “What?”
“Youwere engaged before, right, and youob-obviouslythought she wasthe one, and it all ended. So, after you went throughthat, do youstillwant to get married?”
“Morethan anything,” I stated, looking up toward the blinding TV screen without anyintent of focusing on the movie.
“Ithink … I think you’d make a good husband,” she said in a whisper, and herquavering breath drew my attention back to her face.
“AndI think you’d make a good wife,” I replied before pinning my lip between myteeth.
Thedarkness engulfed us, reminding me of how very alone we were. I knew just howeasy it would have been to open my mouth and tell her that I was a famedauthor, a notable public figure, and that I was more in love with her than anyone person had the right to be. There was nobody there to make anyinterruptions; just us, and Audrey Hepburn about to send her trusted catcompanion out the door of a moving taxi into the pouring rain.
Ilooked down at her, at the face I had allowed myself to envision too many timeswhile lying solo in bed after a night of writing. Her long lashes gripped ontoa few drops of moisture, the light from the TV playing off them like diamondsin the moonlight, and my lips parted with every intention of finally making mygrand confession. My mouth was dry as her breathing quickened in her chest, myarm moving with the rise and fall of her breasts at a more rapid pace, and Ifelt it impossible to breath in the suffocating tension.
“Brandon,”she swallowed, sitting upright, and I was so sure it was in that moment thatshe would confess why she really invited me over there, convinced that itsomehow involved us naked in her bed. “I think … I think …” My impatience wasgetting the better of me as she stammered, her head hanging loosely over herbent knees.
“Whatis it?” I gently prodded, my heart thumping against the walls of my chest as Iplaced a hand firmly against her back.
“Ithink I’m …”
Andwith those three little words, she threw herself over me, reaching for thewastepaper basket next to the couch, and hung over my lap as she threw up intothe bucket. Immediately, my hands gathered the stray hairs haloing around herhead, holding them out of the line of fire as her body purged itself of thenight’s indulgences.
Afterseveral minutes, she draped her arms over my leg, turning to face me withflushed cheeks and bleary eyes. Her nose sniffled as she wiped a hand over hereyes, under her nose, and across her mouth before resting her cheek against mythigh, breathing a bit unsteadily after the few minutes’ workout.
“Feelingbetter?” I asked, pressing my cheek into my fist while rubbing her back throughthe thickness of her sweatshirt.
Herdark brown eyes squeezed shut. “Not really, and I probablylooklikeshit.” A hand came up to cover her face.
WhatI wanted to say was that even then, even with her hair looking like birds couldnest in it and the clamminess of her hands seeping through the fabric of mypants, I had still never seen someone I found more beautiful.
ButI bit my tongue and lifted her, standing as I asked where her room was. Shepointed a lazy finger down the hall and I followed her lead, finding the darkroom and without bothering to find the light switch, I threw back the covers ofher small bed and laid her down gently. My hand smoothed the hair off her face,lingering for a moment on her cheek before grabbing the comforter at her feet.
AsI pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, she said through a mouth of fuzz,“Don’t leave yet.” And pulling up the blanket that I had just laid over her,she beckoned me to join her. “Please. I hate sleeping alone.”
“Idon’t know if that’s such a good idea, Holly,” I said honestly, fully aware ofwhat could happen between two adults lying in bed together with little morethan a bit of fabric between them and even less self-control.
Butshe pleaded with me, rolling over as far as she could in the small bed withoutsending herself over the edge and patted the surface next to her.
“Fine,”I sighed, caving under the pressure and climbed onto the bed next to her,curling an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into me. “But once you fallasleep, I’m gone. I don’t need your sister calling the cops.”
“Uh-huh,”she mumbled, nuzzling her face into my chest and wrapping an arm around mywaist.
Herleg came up, curling around mine and pulling it against her, and as I nestledmy cheek against the top of her hair with the heaviness of my eyelids remindingme of just how tired I was, I thought to myself,I hate sleeping alone too.
