Page 32 of Every Broken Thing

“Careful, Si,” he warned. “You don’t wanna start something you can’t win.”

I aimed to punch his chest, but he dodged. “You’re just afraid I’ll mess up your perfect face.”

“Did you just compliment me?”

“No!” I growled as he side-stepped my next punch, sending me staggering.

“If you don’t watch yourself, I’m gonna stop being gentle,” he threatened, his eyes sparkling with enjoyment at our terribly mismatched sparring session.

I scowled and waved my middle finger. “Bite me.”

“If you’re into that sort of thing,” he said with a wicked grin, and I rolled my eyes as I dispelled the idea before it took root in my masochistic brain.

“Shut up, Ben.”

I made to walk by him, feigning innocence until I rounded on him in a last-ditch effort to hit him. He expected it, of course, and I quickly found myself pressed against the wall, my spine protesting the hard surface as Ben imprisoned my wrists on either side of my head with his hands. His playful grin darkened to one of arrogance as I struggled against his hold to no avail.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you to play nice with the other kids?” he reprimanded me as I squirmed to get away, secretly enjoying his proximity. He didn’t touch me anywhere except my wrists, but his body heat seared through our layers of clothes as his spearmint breath puffed between us.

His blue eyes twinkled at my unsuccessful escape attempts, and I kicked at his shin like a child. “Shouldn’t you pick on someone your own size, you bully?”

“You’re particularly feisty today, aren’t you?” He released my wrists, his fingers grazing over the sensitive skin of my pulse points, and I inhaled sharply at the tingle sparking across my flesh.

“And you’re obnoxiously annoying.” One of his wet curls fell over his forehead when I pushed against his chest, and I resisted the urge to return the lock of gold to its place. “I don’t even know why I hang out with you.”

“Well, it’s clearly not for my artistic talent, that’s for sure.” He stuffed his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt and stepped back to add a foot of air between our bodies. The heat followed him.

“Clearly,” I deadpanned before an idea tickled my brain. “How are you with arts and crafts?”

Less than five minutes later, we entered the theater room, hot glue and melted plastic burning my nose. A few cheers rose from the table in greeting, and Ben waved self-consciously as I led him to the edge of the chairs.

“What is Sir Benjamin doing here on such a fine Saturday afternoon?” Caroline asked with a pompous air, connecting two artificial vines together with hot glue.

“He’s here because we’ve been playing a very drawn-out game of hide-and-seek. As you can see, he’s found me.” I waved my hands half-heartedly, and a finger poked my hip.

Ben mouthed, “You’re It,” with a goofy yet adorable grin, and I shook my head, smothering a smile of my own.

“You’re an idiot,” I mouthed back, and his dimple carved a crater into his cheek.

I turned to Kim, her ever-watchful eyes flitting between Ben and me suspiciously. “I’m pawning him off on you since he can’t paint worth shit. Jordan, you’re supposed to be helping me anyway, you dickhead, so get your ass backstage.”

Jordan abandoned his seat next to Caroline, grumbling the whole time as Harris avoided eye contact with me. I could complain until he helped, but he was almost as useless as Ben when it came to stage prep. I would leave him here with Kim, Caroline, and a couple other familiar faces from my lunch table.

Kim smiled grandly and motioned Ben to the now-abandoned seat next to Caroline. “Welcome, Benjamin, make yourself at home. Crafts are much more fun than working backstage, anyway.”

Ben brushed my shoulder, his fingers curling around my elbow as his spearmint breath fanned over my ear. “Be nice to the freshman, Si,” he instructed playfully, “or else your knees will pay the price.”

I swallowed thickly, my mind wandering into forbidden territory as I contemplated the extent I was willing to go to make that happen. I wouldn’t mind sore knees, not at all.

“Okay,” I squeaked as I backed away from him before I had asituationin my pants to deal with. “I’ll come check up on you later.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Be a good boy, Benji,” I called over my shoulder, chuckling at the bitter furrow to his brow as he flipped me the bird. I sent him a finger-wave in return as I left the room and made my way backstage.

After an hour, we managed to throw together the remaining set pieces necessary for Monday’s first dress rehearsal, and I left Jordan to finish the construction of the tomb as I checked in on Ben. I stopped beside the door to eavesdrop on their juicy gossip, but I was disappointed and mortified to find the juicy gossip about me—specifically, me and Eli. God, that was definitely a part of my past I did not want Ben to hear.

“Thank God they broke up,” Caroline said, and Kim nodded passionately. “He was such a tool, and he treated Silas like shit.”

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