Page 100 of Between the Blue
My fingers have curled into the hair at the nape of Ben’s neck, and my back is somehow even flatter against the brick wall behind me. I don’t know when it happened, but I’ve ended up on my tiptoes, and I feel as if I could take off levitating at any moment.
Our movements are rushed and hurried, but, somehow, at the same time, it’s like I’m experiencing it all in slow motion. Like I’m floating outside of my body as I watch Bennett James kiss me like his life depends on it.
As I watch myself kiss him back.
I don’t know how we ended up here. But, if it goes on much longer, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get back to where Ben and I started. When I allowed this to happen, I liked to believe we were just going to break our long brewing tension. That maybe this could be something we could just get out of our systems. Butthe longer it goes on, the more it feels like something more. Like something I just won’t be able to forget.
The thought begins to overwhelm me at the exact moment it seems neither of our lungs can take anymore. We both pull back at the exact same time, catching our breath.
Ben’s hand slips from my throat, coming up to cup the side of my face. When I feel his touch there, I reach up, wrapping my hand around his wrist. I turn my head to the side, inhaling deeply as I brush my thumb against the skin of his wrist, slowly letting my eyes open.
Once my vision clears, I pull his hand back just slightly, zeroing in on the spot my thumb is circling. The little tattoo of half of a Yin-Yang symbol. The first one I noticed in all of the ink covering his arms. I tilt my head at it now, running the pad of my finger more thoughtfully over it.
But then Ben’s wrist is ripped roughly from my grasp, and I turn to find Ben staring at me with newly cold eyes. His brows pull together and his gaze shifts from me to his wrist that he’s now holding in his own hand.
“Ben?” I ask, confused by his sudden shift in demeanor.
His head snaps up, and he pulls back from me altogether, stumbling several steps backwards before turning on his heel and storming away from me.
I’m so caught off guard that I stay frozen in place until he’s completely out of my view, not a single word exchanged between us as he disappears into the night.
twenty-eight
HIM, TWELVE YEARS EARLIER
Three words go through my head every time I look at her.
God, I don’t know why I haven’t told her.
But I’m doing everything I can to show her.
It’s the weekend before Thanksgiving in Canada. And most students take the long weekend as a nice break.
But college athletes don’t get breaks.
Not really.
We had a game the Friday before the holiday. And practice the Saturday morning after. And we have another game on Tuesday, the day after Thanksgiving.
So, between all that, I barely have thirty-six hours at home with her before I need to head back to Toronto Monday evening.
It’s worth it. Of course it is.
It’s Sunday evening now.
I asked Jules this morning what she would want to do tonight if she could do anything. It took her a few seconds. She really thought about her answer. Like she always does. She said she’d want to have a picnic and watch the sun go down.
So that’s what we’re doing.
It took me two hours of running to multiple stores to find all the supplies. To track down a picnic basket. To search on the Internet for what goes in a picnic basket.
But right now, as I sit here on this old blanket and watch the sun shine off her freckled skin, making her hair look like it’s spun gold, I know. It would have been worth every hour in my day.
I have to tell her.
I’m going to tell her.
“Jules?”
