Page 80 of Check the Halls
I come, and come, and come, crying his name along with several other unintelligible sounds. He stiffens, but keeps moving, spilling himself inside of me, drawing out my orgasm longer than I ever thought was possible.
I am broken and whole at the same time. Used and spent in the best way possible. I feel Ben’s lips against my collarbone, my neck, my cheek.
Did that really happen?
I must have said it out loud because Ben laughs softly against my skin as his face nuzzles against me.
“It happened.”
“How can you be sure?” I ask, curling my fingers into the nape of his neck as I wait for my vision to focus.
“Because, Madness,” he sighs. “You’re better than any fantasy I’ve ever had.”
CHAPTER 26
BEN
“We’re so happy to have you here at our school!”
Sam had told me his teacher, Ms. Evans, reminded him of a Sesame Street regular, and now I can’t unsee it. Her wide, animated eyes are paired with an even wider, almost cartoonish smile. Add in a voice so high and bright it could easily belong to a professional Minnie Mouse impersonator, and the resemblance is uncanny.
“Thank you for having me,” I tell her. “I’m really happy to be here.”
And I truly am. These days, I’m happy to be anywhere. Probably because I’m just sofuckinghappy. Happier than I can ever remember being in my entire life.
It’s the kind of happiness that feels rare. The kind people experience in life-altering moments—a patient waking up to find they’ve been cured of a chronic illness, an inmate granted an unexpected pardon and a fresh start in paradise. Or a man who lost the love of his life, only to have her hand him a second chance.
“Yay!” Ms. Evans claps her hands together beforeturning to the two dozen eleven-year-olds seated before her. A few of them join in enthusiastically, their hands smacking together in an impromptu round of applause. I glance over at Sam, sitting in the corner with his arms crossed, smirking.
With hockey in full swing and his chess club meeting more often, we haven’t been able to find time to hang out lately.
I miss the sarcastic little punk.
I’m on Fellowship Ambassador duty today, but I was able to choose what elementary school to go to. I could have gone with Beth’s school, but decided I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to visit Sam.
After the school visit today, Maddy and I are taking Sam out to dinner—something we’re both looking forward to.
I sent him a message this morning, jokingly asking him to help me look cool in front of his class. His response?"You’re asking too much. I’m only a child."
Maddy laughed so hard when I showed her the message, she spilled coffee all over her shirt.
The coffee I made for her. Because I slept over again. And when she changed her shirt, I got to help. Because I get to do those things again.
Although, given how me “helping” her change also made us forty-five minutes late leaving the condo, I’m not sure how helpful I actually was.
It was totally worth it.
I sneak a glance at where she’s standing in the doorway of the classroom next to the vice principal. Her hair is pulled back in a loose braid. It’s a stark contrast tohow it looked this morning, fanned out around her on my pillow like a fiery halo while she screamed my name.
She meets my eye and raises an eyebrow like she knows I’m thinking about things I have no business thinking of while at a school.
I refocus on the faces in front of me. This school visit is my final official ambassador duty before the Gala next month. The experience has been incredible and while I’m sad it’s wrapping up, I’d be a lot more upset if it meant losing my connection to Maddy.
Luckily, that’s not the case.
For the past week, I’ve been waking up every day more grateful than the day before that this thing between us is real, that I still get to see her, talk to her, be with her.
After a few minutes explaining to the kids what the Love and Light Foundation does and the children’s charities it supports, I open the floor to questions. Their excitement is contagious, their hands shooting up before I even finish speaking.
