Page 98 of Between the Blue
As soon as it closes behind me and my eyes adjust to the dark parking lot, only lit by a single overhead street light, I spotthe back of Ben’s head. And just like so many times before, he immediately turns around.
“Hey,” I say, my voice hoarse.
I start to close the distance between us, but Ben shakes his head, turning away from me and continuing his walk towards where I assume he parked his vehicle on the side street by the bar. “Leave me alone, Cherry.”
“I don’t want to.”
He pauses his walking, spinning to face me. His gaze traces my figure, making my throat feel tight. I only took those three shots a few minutes ago, and I took them back to back so quickly that they haven’t hit me quite yet. But now, as Ben’s eyes burn into my body, I’m questioning if I’m feeling the first rush of warmth from the tequila, or if it’s just him.
He continues walking backwards, and I follow right after him. “Wouldn’t you rather be back inside? You seemed awfully cozy in there.”
I ignore his attempt to distract me. “What happened back there?”
His jaw clenches, and he immediately spins on his heel, picking up his pace as he walks away from me.
I have to raise my walking speed to nearly a jog to keep up with his insanely long legs. We round the corner of Randall’s, making our way to the side of the building
“What happened at the beginning of the game tonight?” I push, questioning him on his fight with Zanders.
Ben doesn’t even seem to register the question.
“Please, just talk to me. I want to understand. I just want to know what’s going on inside your head.”
His hands clench at his sides, but he continues walking.
“Ben.”
He stops all at once and spins around, catching me off guard. “You want to know what’s inside my head, Cherry?”
I meet his eyes, forcing my voice to stay firm. “I do.”
He looks down on me, taking a step closer. “You couldn’t handle it.” He turns away, starting to walk again, but every ounce of anger and frustration in me bubbles over at once. I dart out, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling hard, forcing him to spin back around to face me.
“You need to stop underestimating me,” I tell him.
Ben’s brows raise. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
He swallows. “You want to let out what’s been inside my head?”
I tilt my head, his new wording throwing me for a moment. But it doesn’t matter. Because my answer is still the same.
“Yes.”
Ben’s eyes dart between mine, his jaw flexing. He looks to the side of me for a moment, taking a deep breath. He raises his hand slowly, wrapping it around my wrist where I’m still holding on to his elbow. He squeezes it, a little harder than necessary, like he’s holding himself back from doing something else.
“How are you feeling?”
I look up at him, my lips parting. “What?”
He raises my wrist, moving my hand so that it's wrapped around the back of his neck, and, instantly, I feel a heat start to settle low in my belly.
“How drunk are you?” Ben grits, still not meeting my eyes as he grips my other wrist to follow the same movement.
I’m forced up onto my tiptoes when my other arm is fully wrapped around his shoulders, forcing a little gasp out of me that makes Ben visibly stiffen.
“I need an answer, Cherry.”
