Page 165 of Between the Blue
“What are you–”
“You were jealous,” Ben states, cutting me off.
“Excuse me?”
“You were jealous at the game,” Ben says, stepping closer to me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insist, shaking my head.
“Of the women with the signs. All the ones watching me. The ones shouting my name. You were jealous.”
I take a deep breath, meeting his eyes as I whisper the words, “Friends don’t get jealous.”
Ben swallows hard, nodding. “You’re right,” he breathes. “So you couldn’t have been jealous.”
“Right,” I agree.
He rolls his lips into his mouth, his eyes searching my face. “But maybe…” he mutters, taking a step closer to me. “Maybe you feltsomething.”
He raises his hand, brushing his fingers over my temple. “Like blood pounding right here, so hard you could nearly hear it.” He lets his hand trail down, stopping right over the center of my neck. “Or a tightness here. Like there was a rock sittinginside your throat, so big it hurt to breathe.” Leaving his first hand where it rests on my throat, Ben grips my hip with his other, brushing his thumb across my lower belly. “And maybe you felt something down here. A deep, raw ache. Like a burning pool of molten lava just sitting low in your gut, feeling like it’s gonna melt right through the bottom of you any second. Like it may eat you from the inside out if you let it.”
I stare at his face, waiting for his eyes to meet mine. When they finally do, I utter, “That’s very specific, Ben.”
“Yeah,” he admits, his throat bobbing. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”
“Almost like you’ve felt it too.”
He shakes his head.
“Are you saying I’m wrong?”
His fingers slide down my neck, wrapping slightly tighter. “You kissed Rhett earlier.”
My brows knit together, remembering the photo shoot. “I… I did it because I had to.”
“Did you?” he questions me.
I take a step back, which means I’m out of Ben’s grasp. But it also means that I’m now against the locker room door.
“Yes,” I insist. “The lipstick… He knew… I… He saw us.”
Ben’s jaw tightens, his eyes darkening. “And what did he see, Cherry?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter. “I don’t fucking know, Ben.”
He steps forward, planting a hand on either side of my head on the door. I sink slowly back against the wood, and he leans further into me.
“You know,” I breathe, “I don’t think friends are supposed to look at each other the way you’re looking at me now.”
I hear a low growl from deep within Ben’s chest as his eyes fall shut. He shakes his head. “Stop. Just, please, stop fucking saying that.”
“It’s what you wanted,” I whisper.
“I know.” He drops his head. “Fuck, I know. But just…”
He trails off, and the only sound I can hear between us is our breathing.
“Ben?”
