Page 7 of If It Can't Be Us

A moan escapes my lips as the rising heat in my veins gives way to the butterflies in my stomach. I trace a hand slowly down his abdomen while he kisses my neck and breathes into my ear. “I want you, Vivian.” His hand trails from my breast down my abdomen. My heart starts pounding as he works the button on my pants.

Shit. Ben.

I’m racked with guilt as my brain takes over my body. Feeling as if I’ve lost complete control, I grab his hand while a panicked “NO” escapes my mouth.

Bentley stops abruptly. “What’s the matter?”

Is that… disappointment in his voice?

“I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I think I need to take things slower.”

“Slower? Jesus, it’s been a month.”

“I know,” I say, my voice wavering. “I’m not ready yet.”

“You can’t be serious. You’re just gonna leave me like this? Will you at least finish me off?”

Is he serious?

Offended, I unwillingly scowl, “Um… no, I don’t think I’d be comfortable with that.”

He grumbles a “fuck this” under his breath and abruptly stands up, aggressively putting his shirt back on.

“Are youmadat me?” I push myself off the bed to level the playing field while grabbing my shirt as well.

He doesn’t say anything as he walks out of my bedroom down the hall to find his shoes. “Let’s just say this isn’t going to work, Vivian.”

“Okay, wow! Are you serious? You're mad because I won't have sex with you?”

What. A. Dick.

“Look, Vivian.” He fumbles for words. “You’re super hot, and I’ve been more than patient, but I’ve taken you out five times!” He isn’t shouting, but his voice is definitely elevated as he slips his second shoe on.

“Oh, and that means you're entitled to have sex with me?” I meet his tone while crossing my arms. I’m angry. No… I’m seething!

“Whatever, Vivian, I’m not wasting any more time on you.” He reaches for the door.

“Good! Go, and don’t let the door hit you on the way out!” I practically shout as I slam the door behind him.

What in the actual fuck?

I slip into my sandals and wait for his car to drive off before stumbling outside, desperate for fresh air. I inhale deeply.

Bentley is a dick. I hastily walk down the driveway and head automatically toward Sarah’s house.

At least I know now. Better to find out what an asshat he is before wasting any more time on him. Even better that I didn’t sleep with him.

The truth is, I’ve only ever slept with two people: Ben, obviously, and a guy named Chris, who I dated briefly in college while Ben and I had broken up. I wasn’t intoxicated, but I was tipsy, and he knew he was taking advantage of me. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d been sober. I was still so in love with Ben. My heart broke when I woke up in Chris’s bed the next morning, both of us naked. Nausea overwhelmed me.

Ben had been understanding. Of course, he was furious with Chris, but he told me that, as jealous as he was, it was good that I got it out of my system and needed that time to be free and explore. I’ll never know what I did to deserve someone like him.

Dating, swiping right and left, getting physical with new people—this was all so new to me. I never imagined this being part of my life. I waited seven months after Ben passed before I went on my first date. I wasn’t really ready, but felt like I needed to try. On that first date, I cried so hard the poor guy didn’t know what to do with me. He was very respectful, kind, and brought me home. I remember he gave me a hug and told me to call a counselor.

I laugh to myself at the memory.

I waited another three months before I tried again. Having had almost a full year to grieve and plenty of ongoing therapy, I agreed to go on a date with a guy a friend at work had set me up with. That one had been uncomfortably awkward from the moment I met him for dinner. I was withdrawn, trying to discover who I was without Ben. I thought ten months would be enough time to figure it out, but that date had bombed as well.

I continued to date, needing to practice being uncomfortable. Each date got a little easier as I found bits and pieces of myself again. I got better at flirting and was laughing more frequently. They were all one-time dates, so they never went anywhere physically besides an occasional brief kiss on the doorstep.

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