“You’ll do the right thing even if it means giving this up forever?” My voice cracks, but I cover it with a deep swallow.
She’s the girl who turned Paulie R in to the teacher when she saw him cheating in fourth grade, the woman who pays for her fountain drinks in her school cafeteria even though she works there. She’s the woman you want till death do you part. The saint. The angel. She’s my devil incarnate. My darkest, dirty secret. It will always be her.
“You’re with some dude right now. It’s not the end of the world. You break up with him and we continue down our merry path.” Holding my hands out to the sides, I bring them together.
She leans away, her eyes wide. Slowly, as if realizing her mortal mistake in increments, she slides off my lap and backs away from me like I’m holding a live grenade. “I know who I am, and I’m not this type of woman, Ben,” she says, voice quavering. “This whole trip was a bad idea. We aren’t just friends anymore. Were we ever just friends? Have we been lying to ourselves all this time?”
Yes and no. It took extensive physical contact for her to see what I’ve known for quite some time. “Harper, please. You’re my best friend. You’ll always be my best friend.”
“When kisses feel like that, how can you look at me and call me your best friend? Your dick was literally begging like a dog to come out and play. My mouth waters when I think about your lips. This is a case of built-up sexual frustration.”
Her words are sharp—true. “There are two options,” I say, smirking. She called my dick a dog. The smile is a necessity. First, it will keep the mood light, and secondly, she has an option to take my offer seriously, or dismiss it as garbage. I explain, “You teach the old dog new tricks and we get this out of our system.” Harper balks, as I knew she would. I continue, “Or we cool it. Take a break for a while. You throw yourself into school and whatever that stank breath boy is called, and I’ll find someone. But this is your decision. Not mine. Not what I want. You need to understand this.”
If we were both thirty and in different places in our lives, maybe I would have laid out the proposition differently, thought about it longer, been more thoughtful with my word choice. Harper has always been there. She’ll continue to be there. “I’m going to bed. You’re right. My flight is pretty early. Want me to sleep on the couch?” She leans away, on one foot, like she’s heading to my bedroom.
She took a fucking page out of my playbook and ignored my questions altogether.
“Of course not. Let’s go to bed.”
Harper crosses her arms under her chest, forcing her shirt to rise and expose a sliver of tight stomach. “Don’t make me sound like some immature child.”
“You said that, I didn’t.” Rising from the sofa, I shift my semi-hard dick. Her gaze flits down, and then quickly away. Harper licks her lips. She shifts from one foot to the other, deciding just how badly she’d rather sleep in a bed than out here on the couch. How virtuous can she be?
With a hand of fingers splayed in her face she whispers, “Please don’t touch me. I can’t. I need to be me and you are—”
“Studly? Irresistible? Chess champion in three different divisions? I know. I know. Ladies can’t keep their hands off me.”
Sighing, she brings her hand to her chest. It’s still rising and falling quicker than it should. I’ve affected her more than I thought a mere kiss could. Marcus must be a loser, selfish asshole in the sack if I can get her this riled up. Or, it’s just us. My money is on us and I’m not a gambling man. “I’m serious, Benny. Just let me have some space tonight. I hate feeling so conflicted.”
I hold out my hands. “After you,” I say. “Everything is settled. I won’t ever touch you again. Not like that.”
Harper’s back straightens and it reminds me of what happens when she’s scared. Not the type of scared that happens when you watch a scary movie. The kind that happens after you’ve taken an hour long P.E. class full of verbal abuse and you can’t take much more without falling to pieces. I never wanted to see her like that and if I had been a different man back in high-school, I would have done more to protect her from cruel teenaged ways. Now? I have the ability to protect her in every way, shape, and form and she’s rejected it in favor of doing the right thing. I think.
She spins and faces me, one hand extended between us. “Friends,” she says.
I take her small hand in mine right away and look her straight in the eye. “As you wish.”
Chapter Eight
Harper
Nympho Nancy is haunting our dorm room more than she usually does. It’s only an inconvenience because I’m actually staying here instead of Marcus’. Also, my parents are in town. I’d rather them not have too much contact with my sex fueled roomie lest she spill the beans that I’m never here. I tap the stylus on the edge of my iPad as I stare at her Johnny Depp poster. It’s an old-school version of the man who now dresses like a pirate on hallucinogenic drugs. The scent of weed filters down the hallway and seeps under the doors. It’s graduation week and rules don’t exist anymore. It’s sort of unfortunate, because I love rules.
Marcus texts me, the message flashing on my iPad app.I miss you. Can’t you come over after your parents drop you off at your dorm after dinner? I’ll meet you if you don’t want to walk it alone.I smile as I read.
When I returned from San Diego, Marcus took on a new approach to dealing with my weird friendship with Ben. He didn’t care. Better, he didn’t bring it up, or even acknowledge it even existed. I don’t know what Ben and Marcus’ phone conversation consisted of, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Ben and I are taking a mild friend break in light of a kiss that changed the world. A kiss that I envision anytime Marcus kisses me for any length of time. It upset me for a while, then I got used to it. Sort of like a hallucinogenic freak in emotional denial. Sighing, I glance back at the poster.
Ben and his kisses will never fade, but his presence in my life will. When we don’t talk constantly or video chat he kind of fades into the background. Seeing in person how much he changed made me realize I might not be good enough for Benjamin Brahams anymore. Not in the way he was asking for. Ben’s looks and sexual presence dominate everything in the space surrounding him.
In my moment of guilt after the kiss, I also felt self-conscious. I’m still the geek, and Ben has somehow morphed into the man I always knew was inside him. We ran into one of his many admirers at the concert. She was beautiful, and I could tell by the way she looked at him, she’s tasted him in the same way I want to. As much as I try to forget the way that quick, painful moment made me feel, it validates my decision to stick to the safest path. The known quantity. Ben loves me, but I don’t think he’ll ever be in love with me. Not like Marcus is.
Marcus is perfect for me. That one solid fact stands out among everything else. This is a relationship that deserves my time and energy. He’s a man who’ll move across the country to make me happy and help my dreams come true, a man I have so much in common with, that silly memories and inside jokes are insignificant. Ben and our lifetime of memories is my past. Marcus is my future. All of it.
I tap back a quick message to Marcus using lots of sickening emojis and bounce off my bed to swing the door open. Pinching my nose, I peer outside my dorm. “Would you go outside? It stinks!” I call out, my words sounding more like a grandma sucking on helium than an annoyed woman. The hallway is empty and gray—absent of everything except the bright light that filters in from the large window at the end of corridor. Someone laughs. The volume of the music lifts in response and I slam our door.
“If you can’t beat ’em’, join ’em,” Nancy says, spinning in her computer chair to face me. “You should be more excited. We’re graduating. Let loose a little, Harping Harper.”
I despise that nickname, but literally seconds before, Iwasharping.
