“My God,” I say, swallowing, holding Harper by her shoulders. When I let my eyes open, I notice her eyes are heavy, her pink mouth open and swollen. She’s staring at me with a hungry look in her eye. Everything about this moment is perfect. We’re not kids anymore. The switch flipped. All generators are running on high. Words aren’t needed. We can read each other without even trying.
She leans in and kisses me again. This time we know what we’re doing a little more than last time and when she breaks away to catch her breath, I feel more than everything.
I pull her against my body and my raging hard-on. “I love you, Benny,” she whispers, hugging my neck like a spider monkey.
“I love you, Harper Jean.”
She pulls away, grinning like a maniac. We’re such rebels. “I also love those Bubble-Yum lips,” I say, through a wide smile. “Give me some more of those?”
She does.
Chapter Five
Harper
I stretch my arms over my head and my hands run into the headboard. Not the familiar wicker headboard from my apartment or the cool steel of Marcus’. My eyes pop open and I roll over and slap Ben in the face. “Sorry. Sorry!” I whisper shout into the dark bedroom. “Ben! What are you doing in here?”
“It’s my bed. What are you doing in here? That’s the question,” Ben says, voice hoarse and drowsy—utterly mouthwatering. Let’s be honest, here. Everything about him does things to my body that I work hard to deny. It’s harder when he’s next to me. In bed. When I’m wearing…wait. What am I wearing? A crop top and a pair of lacy white underwear. Perfect. I’m barely awake and I already feel like the whore of Babylon.
One of his arms juts out and he pulls me against his body. “I left all my clothes on. I know your prude sensibilities, but the sofa wasn’t long enough to hold me.”
There’s no use struggling against his snuggle, so I go willingly, letting his cozy body heat envelop mine. He smells like Ben. A hint of his signature scent mixed with the indiscernible smell that is him—home.
“This is so inappropriate. I’m going to hell,” I groan, trying to think of the last time I called Marcus. I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive I win the award for world’s worst girlfriend. Guilt lies heavily on my chest as the whole scenario of my time here is realized.
Ben cuddles me closer, his lips at my ear. “Do you think I’d do anything untoward while you were blitz faced drunk? Come on. You know I like my ladies willing participants.”
I cringe. “You’re such a dog, Ben. I have a boyfriend.” His body stiffens. Not his penis. No, that’s been hard since the moment he woke up. “One who would cast me to the dogs if he saw me right now. Best friend or not, a hard dick this close to my ass has to be a deal breaker for most people.”
He laughs. “Fine. Fine.” He slides away, and I roll to face him. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, Harper. I thought we were closer than that.” Sighing, I contemplate every single word I’m about to say and the many ways in which they can be misinterpreted.
“It got weird. Too much time had passed; I fibbed once and it kind of snowballed.” My purse is sitting on the nightstand and my eyes widen as I make a grab for it and pull out my birth control pills. I swallow the one meant for last night without water and realize how dry my mouth is. It’s a desert, California in the middle of drought, death. “I need water,” I croak.
Ben watches the whole thing, and pain flickers across his face. I have to physically remove myself from him before I comfort him. That would be inappropriate. “You’re sleeping with him?” His eyes crinkle as he asks. It’s almost humorous, because how in the world could I not be sleeping with my boyfriend? Ben will always see me as ten years younger than I actually am.
Sighing, I run a hand across my forehead. This isn’t a conversation I’d have with anyone, let alone Ben. Though, maybe he can help me figure out if Marcus is jealous. Best friends do that a lot, right? “I live with him. Sex is sort of a given. I’m twenty-one, not fifteen. Sometimes I think you forget that I grew up the same time you did, with you.”
Ben folds his arms behind his head and he looks so damn hot I have to stand and turn away from the bed. The first time I slept with Marcus I was completely uncomfortable. I didn’t really want to do it, but he was persuasive and I knew it was time to let my old dreams die hard. “I picture you at school, at class, and going to your clubs and study groups. I never thought you’d live with a dude. Fuck another dude.”
“Was I supposed to wait for you?” I ask, swallowing down broken dreams. “You know what? Never mind. Want breakfast?” I ask, desperate to change the subject. Jealous Ben isn’t fun. He never has been. Turning, I hit him with my biggest smile. I’ve never quite been sure where his jealousy stems from. He doesn’t want me romantically, I don’t think. It’s more of a claim thing. He claimed me as his, and because he’s male and they bang on their chests, jealousy is akin to breathing.
We’re both aware he doesn’t answer my question, but unlike him, I’m not going to force him to say anything. That answer isn’t good for either of us. “Yeah. Let’s go eat. I need to erase the images flashing through my brain.” Ben runs both hands through his hair, back and forth several times.
I know how to stop the flood of images, but I can’t fix it for him. Not right now, not at this stage in our lives. His cell phone rings, he mumbles something under his breath, and walks into the bathroom. Digging through my suitcase, I find a pair of sleep shorts and pull them on. It takes longer than it should because I’m lost in my thoughts of Ben and me in bed, in my underwear, and all it implies. All I wish it meant. A flash of a future so muddied by life lights my senses and then promptly turns to dust.
He clears his throat. “We didn’t do anything, Harper,” Ben hisses from the bathroom doorway, body propped against the frame, startling me from my daydream.
Glancing over my shoulder, I catch sight of him. He’s shirtless now, because that’s his natural state. I have to remind myself he’s always walked around shirtless after he transformed into a perfect male specimen. He truly did wear a shirt to bed because of my prude sensibilities. I wish I wasn’t that kind of girl. The meek, do what you’re told, type. Old habits die hard, and I should praise Ben for realizing as much as things change about me, that one facet never will.
“You wouldn’t tell me if we did. Don’t lie. You perv.” I knock him off balance on my way out of the room and into the kitchen. I duck out of his grasp as he tries to catch me around the waist. My cracked cell phone sits on the counter, a glaring reminder of the person inside of it.
“If you get everything out for me, I’ll make breakfast. I need to make a quick phone call.” It’s so late in the morning that it’s already an acceptable time to call the East Coast. Marcus will be up, sipping his morning tea and watching the news, a text book sitting next to him.
“Make it fast. We have big plans today,” Ben growls, laughing. Our uncomfortable exchange is already buried. In record time, no less. We’re able to hide almost anything inside the confines of our friendship. It wasn’t until recently that I realized that’s not always a good thing. He’s still thinking about me and Marcus together, and I’m still thinking about how I wish it were him.
Savagery.
I hit speed dial number two and Marcus answers on the second ring. “There you are. Are you okay? You had me worried last night.” His words are mashed together in one long wind. To his credit, he does sound worried. His text messages were so rude and unlike him that I was afraid to call him at first.
