Page 43 of Falling for the Forbidden
“Stay there,” he instructs, and I watch as he jumps from the car and races around to my side. I unbuckle myself as he pulls the door open and, the second he reaches in for me, I slide my hand into his and allow him to pull me from the car. His actions are so far from the Ben I used to know—the angry, brooding teenager who hated the world around him. The man in front of me is all gentleman.
He pulls me up so I’m pressed against his chest. His breath tickles my ear as he leans in. “I think that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
It takes me a moment to recall what I said, and I can’t help laugh when I do. That is, until I realise he’s not laughing with me. Lifting my head, I’m surprised by the serious look on his face. Shit, he’s not joking.
“Ben, I—”
“Stop.” I’m forced to do as he says when his fingers land on my lips. “Let’s not go there. Tonight is about enjoying ourselves, not worrying about reality.” Taking my hand, he leads me inside the restaurant.
It’s exactly as I imagined it would be. The lighting is soft and candles flicker from the centre of the tables. There are a handful of couples enjoying their meals together, and mellow music fills the space. It is by far the most lavish and romantic restaurant I’ve ever stepped foot in. I feel totally out of place.
“What’s wrong?” Ben asks when I don’t immediately fall into place behind him and the maître d’.
“It’s just so fancy.”
“It’s no less than you deserve.” Looking at all the mature couples dining around us, I feel every bit my eighteen years and totally in over my head. “We can go somewhere else if you’d feel more comfortable.”
“No. I’m just being silly. This will be amazing.” I feel ridiculous making a fuss after he’s gone to the effort of organising it. The second I saw him wearing a white dress shirt and trousers I knew I’d made the right choice with my dress, but never in a million years was I expecting something like this.
We’re seated in a cosy corner of the room, and we order our drinks. It feels like no sooner has the waiter left, then he’s back, placing glasses down in front of both of us and reeling off tonight’s specials. I try my best to focus, but other than remembering that one involves chicken and another fish, I’ve no clue what they are. I’m still too stunned with how my Friday night is shaping up.
“I feel way too young for this,” I whisper to Ben.
“Age is only a number. You couldn’t look more at home, or any more beautiful.” Sliding my chair over so that it’s closer to his, he leans in and places a kiss at the corner of my lips. “I’ve been waiting all week for this.”
“Me, too, I just didn’t know it was coming.”
Sadness washes through him once again but he doesn’t say anything.
“What’s the matter?” I prompt, hoping he’ll open up.
“I hate this. I hate having to hide. I hate having to treat you like a dirty little secret.”
“Me, too. But there’s not much else we can do.”
“How drunk were you on Sunday night?”
“Uh…” I stutter, a little shocked by his sudden topic change. “Pretty drunk, why?”
“Drunk enough to not remember what you said to me?”
I run what I can remember of that night through my head. I almost say that I don’t remember, until something hits me.Fuck, did I say that out loud? Did I really tell him I was falling in love with him?I don’t need to say any more. He sees the moment the realisation hits.
“Did you mean it, or was it the drink talking?” Casting my gaze over his shoulder, I try to figure out how to vocalise my feelings. “Don’t hide from me,” he demands softly, his fingers touching my cheek and bringing my eyes back to his. The hope in his eyes is enough to pull an honest answer out of me.
“Yes. I meant every word.”
His eyes flash with emotion before he nods like he’s made some big decision. I go to ask, but he beats me to it. “I’m going to talk to your dad.”
“You’re going to what? You can’t. He’ll…he’ll…”
“He’ll what? Really, what’s he going to do? We’re both adults. He can’t really stop us from seeing each other. Technically, we’re not doing anything wrong.”
My heart races and my hands tremble with the force of the sheer panic that rushes through me. I’ve witnessed arguments between Dad and Ben, and they’re not pretty at the best of times. I can only imagine what will happen if he does this.
“No, it should come from me.”
Ben’s face hardens. “No. I won’t let you do that.”
