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Chapter 4

Gemma

I stared down at my empty plate, ignoring the way his gaze fell over me. It was almost as if he had been trying to pick at my thoughts.

I knew what he was waiting on, and I was purposefully trying to stall.

There were two ways the dreaded conversation could go: really well, or really terribly. Hopefully, it wasn’t the latter of the two. Dealing with my embarrassment was enough. Dealing with the possibility of losing Ben? That was an ordeal I hoped I would never have to deal with.

I laid my fork down on my empty plate and leaned back in my chair, my gaze instinctively falling over his bare chest. Damn him and his perfect abs for distracting me. But my, what a beautiful distraction they were.

“About last night—”

“I’d rather talk privately, if it’s all right with you?” I glanced back at Molly’s open door. I knew she was getting ready for work, but I also knew she was known to eavesdrop. It had always been a specialty of hers, one that often ended up biting me in the ass.

And although she’d known about my feelings for Ben for some time, this wasn’t a conversation I was ready for her to hear. Hell, it wasn’t a conversation I was ready to hear.

I led him toward my room, my heart pounding against my chest, increasing in speed with every step almost as though it would shatter at any given moment. It was ridiculous to be scared. He had been over countless times. Hell, he had even slept in my room on days he came by to check on me when I was sick. I shouldn’t have been nervous, but I was.

Because this? This was different.

This wasn’t Ben coming by for relationship advice; this wasn’t Ben cuddling with me in bed when I was sick with a fever. This was Ben coming to talk to me about us because my dumb ass couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

As I walked through my doorway, with Ben towering over me, my panic truly started to set in. I was hung over— although in Ben’s defense, I no longer felt like a zombie—all I could think about was how much I could’ve used a drink.

Alcohol had given me enough liquid courage to get into this mess; surely it could’ve helped to get me out of it.

I plopped down on my mattress and pulled my feet up on the bed and underneath me. “So, what’s up?”

He reached for the book on my bedside table and opened it to the bookmarked page. Trying to keep his tone even, he read over the text of the page. “Glate grabbed a hold of my T-shirt and pulled me down toward him. His lips met mine with a desperate hunger. He ran his tongue over my lower lip, igniting a fever throughout my body. He eased his hands beneath my T-shirt, his fingers inching their way up my spine. Suddenly, we weren’t close enough. Every inch of my body craved his touch.” He held the book up, and grinned. “Interesting reading choice.”

I reached behind me for my pillow and threw it at him, happy he’d broken the tension, though only temporarily. I knew there was no escaping this conversation. Especially not now.

He handed me my book before taking a seat near the foot of the mattress with his arms stretched out behind him, highlighting each and every taut muscle in his arms. Focus, Gemma, I thought to myself. But man, it was hard.

“I have to know. Last night. Did you mean it?”

Yes. That was all I had to say. One freaking word. But no matter how much I wanted to say it, to stop being a coward, a part of me still feared the outcome. “Why? Does it really matter, Ben? I was drunk. People say stupid shit when they’re drunk. It happens.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Why?” He strolled over beside me, resting his hand on the wall behind me so he was hovering above me. “Because I’ve never wanted anything more than I do you, Gemma.”

I froze, taking a moment to replay his words—words I never would’ve thought I would hear him say. Surely, I had to be dreaming. This was Ben. He’d never made a pass at me. I’d always been the drunken idiot trying to get in his pants.

He pressed his palm to my cheek, a gentle smile upon his lips. “Ever.”

I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks as I looked up at him, taking in the hunger in his eyes. I stumbled over my words as I tried to answer him. “You want me?”

Ben furrowed his brows, and he ran his thumb along my jaw, stopping as he’d reached the corner of my mouth. “Gems, I’ve wanted you for some time now.”

He took my hands in his and lowered me onto the mattress before he adjusted himself so he was on top of me. “Do you remember prom?” he asked, and I nodded. “Do you remember the promise I made you?”

I did, though it wasn’t one I liked to remember.

Prom had been one of the worst nights of my life.

“Yes,” I whispered. “You promised we’d go together.”

That had been the first and only promise Ben had ever broken to me. I hadn’t been excited for our senior prom until he’d promised to take me. Dancing and crowded rooms? Not exactly my cup of tea.

I’d spent hours at the mall, shopping for the perfect dress with my mother, before finally settling on a teal gown with a beaded waist and lace covering. To say I’d been excited would’ve been an understatement. I had my ticket, and I had my dress, and I had my date. Or so, I’d thought.

But then he’d started seeing this girl from school, and she’d made plans to go with him, and I was left to go solo—which I wouldn’t have minded, had my social anxiety allowed me to talk to other people without wanting to hurl.

I had spent the entire night at my assigned table, listening to the DJ remind us prom night was our last night together as seniors before we were thrust into the real world.

For me, prom night had been a night I’d tried my best to forget.

I had never felt more alone within a crowded room than I had at prom. Even now, when I looked back on what was supposed to be the bookend to my senior year, all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and drown out the rest of the world.

“You were utterly perfect,” he said, forcing me from my thoughts. “I’ve never hated myself more than I did that night because you were the girl I should’ve been with. You were the one I wanted to be with.”

And yet, I wasn’t the one he’d chosen to go with.

Even now, all of these years later, it still hurt to recall the pain I’d felt after he bailed on me. And hearing him say those words? Well, they kind of pissed me off. “Then why didn’t you do something back then?”

He pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. He dropped his right hand to my hip and tugged on the fabric of my pajama shorts, bunching the fabric in his fist. “Because I was a fucking idiot, Gemma.”

“Besides, you wouldn’t have wanted me back then,” he continued. “Back then? I spent most of my time thinking with my dick, and you deserved a hell of a lot better than me. You, Gemma Michaels, deserve the world.”

He ran his left hand up the side of my body, bringing his hand to rest at my waist, and I had to fight the urge to pull him closer to me. I wanted more, but I wanted to see how far he was willing to take things, first.

“And I would like to be the one to show you that,” he said.

“Show me what?” I asked.

He grinned. “The world, sweetheart.”

It was a cheesy line, yes, but it was also perfect all the same.

Ben stretched my arms above my head, eased my legs open with his knee, and slipped between them. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” I answered, my voice merely a whisper.

My body was screaming for him to keep going, to give in to the hunger.

He’d ignited a fire in me that begged to be put out. I needed to feel his lips pressed against mine. I needed him to explore my body with his hands. I needed him.

He brushed his lips along my jaw while his fingers dug in to my hips, pulling my body against his. My hands roamed over his bare chest, wanting to commit each and every line to memory because I knew this thing between us was bound to be just temporary. Sooner or later, he’d come to his senses and us? We would be nothing more than a thing of the past, and I just wasn’t ready to give him up yet. Not after I had finally gotten what I’d always wanted.

“Man, I was a fucking idiot.” He smirked and leaned his head down so he could press a kiss to my neck. “I’ve spent so long wanting you, Gemma. I’ve wanted this for so long, and I’m terrified of screwing it up.”

Ben had always been the one constant in my life. When everything else had gone to shit, he was always there. He had helped to piece me back together more times than I would’ve liked to admit, and over the years, he’d slowly taken control of my heart. I’d always been his, even though I wasn’t technically his. And that scared me, because not only did he have the power to fix me, but he’d also had the power to break me.

Stop letting your fear control your thoughts, I thought to myself.

We’d come this far. Would we really allow fear to destroy everything, before it even had a chance at getting started?

“I know,” I said. “But sometimes, risks are worth taking, Ben, and I want to try this—I want to try us.”

“Me too,” he answered.

I leaned in to kiss him, eager to feel his lips upon mine, but he’d turned away.

I arched a brow at him. “Seriously? You’re going to torture me, and not even give me the benefit of a kiss?”

He didn’t say anything, only smiled as he ran his fingers down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he did so. Oh, how I wanted to hit him. “Ugh. Stop with the teasing and kiss me already, would you?”

Ben pulled himself off of me and fell onto the mattress beside me. “Gems, you haven’t seen teasing just yet.” He winked at me and pulled his arm up and under his chin, resting his head on his fist.

I wasn’t sure what he meant—though I liked to imagine what he meant—but I was sure this boy would be my undoing.

“I want to do this right,” he said.

“Wha—?” I went to protest, but he stopped me before I could.

“Gemma, trust me when I say I want nothing more than to kiss you. Hell, I’d love to take you right now, right here, but I can’t.”

Well, this was not where I saw things going. I crossed my arms over my chest in a pitiful attempt at mock sadness.

Ben just laughed. “Do you know why I can’t?”

Obviously not, I thought to myself. If I had, I wouldn’t have been begging for him to continue. Lying this close to him? It was hard to forget what had just occurred. My body was aching for his presence, for his touch, still adjusting to the electric shock that had coursed through me. “No,” I answered. “Please, enlighten me.”

Ben reached for my hand, entwining my fingers with his. A devilish grin spread upon his full lips. “Because, when I do finally kiss you, Gemma Michaels, I want to see to it that I’m your last first kiss.”