Page 2 of Ready Or Not

No.No, no, no.

He already reeks of stale beer and sweat. If I’m stuck in a car with that smell, I will throw up. I dig my nails into the skin around my thumb, the sharp bite of pain keeping me from spiraling more.

“I’ll drive,” I offer weakly.

Ben laughs harshly, “No way, buttercup. I’m the gentleman here.”

My skin prickles. “I need my car.”

“As do I.”

I lock eyes with his watery blue ones. “You follow me?”

He shrugs. “Fine.”

On the drive back, I keep worrying that Ben will crash and I won’t get the information I need. I keep checking in the mirror, but Ben doesn’t swerve. Cali hinted he might be a habitual drinker.

I bite the skin around my index finger. What in the actual hell am I doing? Somehow, I didn’t think we would actually get this far. I haven’t done anything like this in…well, like ever. I mostly keep to myself, and I like it that way.

We get back to my house, and for a second, I just sit there and think about driving away, hiding at the grocery store or the corner gas station, and pretending like this never happened. It would be so much easier.

But Cali can’t do that. She’s missing, and no one is helping her. And for that reason, I get out. Ben’s waiting, and when I walk up the steps, he palms my ass. It makes all my muscles lock up, and fire shoots through me. I want to run and fight, but that would ruin everything I have going. Instead, I just let us in the house and resist the urge to bite my nails.

My house is modest, a one-story ranch, but I’ve made it my own. I’ve thrifted and shopped estate sales for most of the furniture and decor, including my orange couch and dark woodfurniture. The Halloween decorations I got from the dollar store actually fit well with my witchy decor.

Ben runs his hand along the Halloween ghosts I have set up, and I glare at him. He’s knocking them out of the careful lines I’ve set them up in.

“Want a drink?” I ask, mostly to get him away from my things, and then I move to the kitchen.

As I feel Ben’s presence in my house, my brain screamsstupid. So stupid. So fucking stupid. I’m alone with a man in my home. I mean, I told my mom I had a date and sent her Ben’s picture, but what’s my mom gonna do? Beat him over the head with her TV remote? Then, in the next minute, forget she met him and ask his name?

I turn on the video on my phone, put it in my back pocket, and pull a beer out of the fridge. My shirt is still soaked under my arms, although I tried to get the AC to air it out on the way over. It may be fall in Oklahoma, but it’s still hot as balls.

Ben takes the beer from me. I duck back into the fridge for one for myself, saying, “Cali liked Miller Lite, too.”

Ben’s face flushes as he cracks it open. “You heard from her?”

“I was kinda hoping you had.” I lean against my sink. Just talk about this, and then he can go. It’ll be over soon.

Ben runs his hand through his hair. “Not a word.”

That better not be because she’s dead.

I plaster a smile on. “Did you see her on the 6th?”

Ben guzzles his beer, glancing around. “Wanna give me a tour?”

I tighten my fingers on my beer. “I haven’t cleaned up.”

Ben snorts. “I don’t care.” He saunters closer to me. “As long as you’re cleaned up downstairs, I don’t care a bit.” He winks, a grin on his face.

My cheeks flame, and for a second, I’m speechless. How dare he? How fucking dare he? He just had the hottest girl around on his arm, then she disappeared, and he’s hitting onme?

Putting my beer on the counter, I move to the side to get away from him. Ben steps into me, pinning me against the marble. His body is hot, and his beer breath brushes across my face. “You’re pretty, you know that?”

I hold my breath and try to scoot away, shoving against him. “I…”

Suddenly, Ben’s big hands are all over my breasts. He’s fondling them, gripping and gently pinching. “These are cute. I like small things.”

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