Page 42 of Between the Blue
Attempt to irritate him?
Is this him complaining that I didn’t say hi to him? What is happening right now?
“Is that what this has been?” I ask.
He tilts his head. I might finally understand why he’s been a dick since the moment I’ve met him.
“You’re a masochist aren’t you?” I question him.
He doesn’t reply, his chin dropping. His lack of response completely obliterates whatever is left of my filter.
“Do you have a pain kink or something?” I blurt.
He stiffens in place.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” I push. “You get off on this?”
His jaw shifts to the side as his eyes dart between my own. “You’re asking what I get off on, Cherry?”
I swallow against the sudden dryness in my throat. “No…”
Ben raises his brows, but doesn’t say anything. We stare off for a few moments. Eventually, I take the loss, blowing out a breath and turning to walk up the steps. But I don’t get very far, because, for whatever reason, Ben decides to jog up the stepsnext to my side. He quickly passes me, stopping at the landing halfway up the stairs and blocking my path.
“Would you leave me alone?” I huff when he refuses to let me by. “I’m on a schedule.”
“Me too. But I’m sparing an extra minute, so you can too.”
“Why?” I insist.
Once again, Ben doesn’t answer me. And, again, he stares into my eyes for far longer than necessary. Every time he does this, it’s like he’s searching for something within them. I can’t explain it.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says suddenly, his voice low.
“Why do you care?”
He doesn’t answer, and, at this point, I feel like it’s probably because he doesn’t have an answer. He solely wants to know because I don’t care to tell him. Because he wants to get under my skin.
Well, I don’t have time to play his game.
But I’m not sure I’m getting up these stairs without giving in.
“If I tell you, will you let me leave?” I ask him.
He crosses his arms, looking at me for a few seconds before he nods.
I blow a breath out of my nose, looking away and then back to him. I can’t believe I’m about to do this.
“You know I’m a photography student, right?”
“Not sure I could forget.”
“Well,” I say, “as part of my program, I have to have an internship. I landed the internship of my dreams with my favorite fashion magazine company, but, long story short, it fell through. They don’t need me anymore.”
Ben’s expression is hard to read, like always. The rest of his body language makes it seem like he couldn’t care less, yet his eyes are locked on me like I’m some sort of puzzle he’s trying to solve.
After a few moments, he doesn’t respond. So I take that as my cue and move to step around him, but his arm flies out, blocking me. “What?” I demand, exasperated.
“And?”
