Page 270 of Burn Bright
He smiles. “I hope I feel it for days.”
“And you callmepunk rock.” I shrug off my leather jacket, the heat cranked up to toasty levels. I throw it on my bare mattress. “I’m a wimp when it comes to pain. I won’t even go into mosh pits.”
He sets my box down and hooks my backpack on the desk chair. “That’s a good thing. Picturing my five-foot-one girlfriend being shoved around by men twice her size actually pisses me off.”
“Shoving me for fun though,” I point out.
“Yeah, that makes me angrier.”
I wish I could tell young Harriet that she’d find someone who’d protect her—and she’d let him and she’d love every second of it.
Ben comes closer, spinning my car keys on his finger. His hand slips down my spine, and I realize he’s barely examined my room. He’s just fastened on my features, and I like that I make him smile. That’s what I’m doing—causing his lips to rise, his baby blue eyes to glitter.
I’ve started believing that my mere presence can make someone else happy. Ben gave me something that my mom stripped away. My company isn’t heavy and soul-leeching. I’m not an energy vacuum. I might still press myself against the plaster wall at parties, but I know Ben will come find me.
I know he’ll stay at my side.
I know he’ll smile down at me.
I know I’ll crane my neck to look up at him.
I know I won’t feel alone.
“Two more trips to your car,” he says, “and I’ll have all your stuff up here.”
“I’ll help.” It takes us one more trip. Thankfully the Honors House has a decently sized parking lot, and so Harold has a home too. I didn’t have to ditch my Honda.
I toss my folded sheets, pillow, and comforter on the bed. Then I place Son of Ben more delicately near the footboard. I fix the stuffed lion’s twisted choker necklace. “Do you want weekends or weekdays for this joint custody arrangement?” I ask Ben.
“Joint custody implies we’ve split up.” He rests a potted fern on the desk and my printer on an end table near an outlet. “You trying to divorce me already?” He slips me a teasing smile.
“Can’t divorce someone without being married, Cobalt boy.”
He has a daring look in his eye.
It widens my gaze, and I point at him. “That’s not an invitation for you to drop to your knee.”
He laughs into the hottest smile imaginable. “I wouldn’t propose to you right now, Harriet.”
Oh…kay. I exhale a long breath of relief. “I just don’t want to rush this next chapter with you. But one day, though, Son of Ben probably needs a legal mom, right?” What am I doing…? I can’t take it back. I don’t want to, and these honest conversations aren’t too hard to have with Ben, even if we like to joke and tease inside them. Anticipation quickens my pulse.
He leans back against my dresser, his fingers rubbing against his stretching lips. “I don’t know the parental legality when it comes to stuffed animals.”
I cover the lion’s ears. “He’s arealboy.”
We’re both smiling, especially as Ben says, “Our boy.” He skims my face. “I suspect one day he will have a legal mom.”
“If she’s not me?—”
“She’syou,” he interjects with a laugh. “Come on, Fisher, who else is there? It’s only you.”
I have trouble meeting his eyes. My feelings for him surge to the surface so forcefully, and I end up smoothing the lion’s mane. “I’ll take really good care of him.”
“I know you will. Because you already have. It’s actually really fucking adorable. I’m shocked you’ve never had a pet.”
“They’re too much work.”
“Says the girl who combs every knot out of his hair each night.”
