Page 68 of Collision

Chapter fifteen

Ben

If someone asked me why I loved to run, this is what I would tell them: there is a clarity that comes from it. A sense of ease and comfort that cleanses the mind and makes it easier to breathe and be. It makes it easier to exist. This morning is no exception to that rule.

As my feet hit the sidewalk with rhythmic precision, I feel the pressures and pains of the last two days begin to unknot and unwind from my muscles. I feel them seep from my skin, dripping out of my pores and escaping into the day. Here? Now? I feel closer to myself than I have in what feels like a lifetime. Certainly closer than I was in the six months I spent traipsing across Europe, avoiding responsibilities, when I heard Mik was back in town. And yet, with every clarifying step, a sense of loss and discomfort that I’m not familiar with seems to creep into me. I want to get back to her.

“So. You and Mik.” It’s not a question, but it’s weighted.

“What?” I grunt as I shake my head at him. Mikaela doesn’t need Jamie snooping around her feelings when she doesn’t even know what they are herself.

“I’m just wondering when the two of you got close enough that she’s talking about forgiveness.” Jamie is scowling as I come to a slow stop. My chest is tightening and my calves are burning while I bend forwards and grimace, and Jamie is staring.

“What’s your problem, J? We spoke briefly over the phone becauseyouwere being difficult about us not talking. She asked if I wanted to come with you guys and I said yes. Why is that an issue?” I feed him a lie I’ll need to inform her of soon.

His shoulders raise as he rolls his jaw. “I don’t have a problem. I just don’t understand when you and my sister got close.”

“You know.” I roll my shoulders back and pull my phone from the strap across my arm. “You don’t get to have it both ways, Jamie. You can’t lecture me about making an effort and then get suspicious when I do. It’s fucking draining.”

“I’m not suspicious.” His denial is bitter and weak with dishonesty.

“Yeah.” I pull open my messages, my heart lifting a little at the appearance of her name. “You are. And it’s getting boring. You don’t think I’m good enough for Mik, I get it. We agree on it. Now stop acting like I’m doing anything and everything in my power to get her into bed, because I’m not.”In fact, I seem to be doing the complete opposite and I don’t completely understand why.“Especially when you’re the one who was so desperate for us to put the past behind us. Just be happy we’re trying.”

Jamie’s face is a picture; a strange mix of incredulity and shame gliding into place and battling for dominance as he stares at me.

I glance back to my phone as I continue. “I’m going home. If you feel like reminding me of all my short comings again today, don’t. Okay?”

“Ben, I didn’t mean -”

“Yeah, you did.” I sigh. “But I get it, she’s your sister. Just give it a rest. Alright?”

I turn away from him, heading down a narrow street that will lead me the short walk home, my fingers already flying across the screen to reply to her.

Mikaela

I lay across the couch, my phone on the coffee table, and I wait. This is going to backfire massively. It is going to blow up in my face and I am going to end up having to apologise. My cheeks are still burning and my heart is pattering against my rib cage as I fidget with the buttons of the shirt I dug out of Ben’s bag and minutes drag past me. And then my phone buzzes.

I try to avoid looking at the photo I sent him; his shirt wrapped around me, skimming my thighs with a few too many buttons undone.

Ben: You’re really going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you?

My heart beats a little easier.

Me: I just think you should know what you’re pushing away. Keeping the shirt by the way.

Ben: You know exactly what you’re doing, and you’re playing dirty. Need a shower and then I’ll be back to get ALL of my things.

I get to my feet and wander to the kitchen as I type.

Me: All? Shirt included? Only one way you’re getting me to take it off, Haston.

Ben

I groan loudly as I step into the elevator, my eyes dancing over the photo she’d sent. It’s innocent enough, just her smiling at the camera - her phone held out just above her to get the full picture - but it’s what she’s wearing. Mikaela very clearly has nothing but my shirt on. And even that is hanging off of her.

The spattering of freckles that runs down her throat and between her breasts creates a very real, very tempting road I want to travel and the sparkle in her eyes tells me she knows it too. And then her next message comes in and my heart rate spikes.

Mikaela: All? Shirt included? Only one way you’re getting me to take it off, Haston.

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