Emily.
Certain moments take your breath away, and the sight of Ben leaning against his car across the road is one of those moments.
Scarlett bumps into my back, nearly dropping her takeaway coffee. “Are you okay?”
When I don’t move, she rounds me and scans her eyes over my face, then follows my line of sight. “Oh, shit.”
Ben’s black hair is mussed up as if he’s run his hands through it repeatedly. I drink him in while he watches me with an intensity I feel all the way down to my core.
I also don’t miss the way his tattooed arms stretch the material of his black Guns N’ Roses t-shirt.
Is he here for me?My aching chest is screaming for air. When did I stop breathing?
He pushes off the car, then looks left and right before crossing the road. I stand frozen. My heart is beating like a wild animal trying to escape its confines.
“Okay,” Scarlett says, dragging the word out. “I’m going to leave now. Good luck!” She squeezes my arm, and then she’s gone.
I force air into my lungs and take deep, steadying breaths. Now is not the time to pass out from oxygen deprivation.
Ben is in front of me now. He scans the street before pinning me to the spot with his brown eyes.
I sweep my eyes over the planes of his face. He’s breathtaking. I don’t know where to look first. The tattoo snaking up from beneath the collar of his t-shirt or the dark stubble on his cheeks? His sharp jawline? The curve of his lips?
He darts his tongue out, toying with the circular barbell at the corner of his bottom lip. I can’t look away. My hands twitch by my sides as I fight the urge to touch him.
He swallows thickly. Neither of us has said a word yet.
“Hey,” I whisper, scared to break this spell we’re under.
He clears his throat and grabs the back of his neck.
He’s nervous.
“Can we go somewhere and talk?”
I nod, my heart fluttering in my chest. “Sure.” What does this mean? I want to smile, but I can’t read him as he walks off toward his car without a backward glance.
I guess this means he wants me to follow him? I hurry to catch up, crossing the street, tightening my grip on my coffee so I don’t spill it.
Ben watches me over the car roof and taps it twice before opening the driver’s door.
I get in and place the coffee down in the drinks holder. It’s weird to be back in Ben’s car again. Everything is the way I remember it.
My eyes fall closed, and I breathe in the smell of him. God, I’ve missed him so much.
I keep stealing glances while we drive in silence. His posture is rigid, and he wrings the steering wheel so tight, I worry it might snap. He’s warring with himself.
Nothing about his body language reassures me. He seems angry, and I hate that I can’t read him. Wishing for him to say something, I stay silent and worry my bottom lip.
He soon pulls over by the roadside and cuts the engine. We’re in the middle of the countryside, or as my mother would say—in the middle of nowhere.
“Ben?” I ask hesitantly as he stares out of his window at the maize field beyond.
He stiffens at the sound of my voice but doesn’t turn to look at me.
“Please…” My voice is barely above a whisper.
When he finally looks over at me, tears brim in his brown eyes, and he drops his head. He swipes at his face and then unfastens his seatbelt and bucks his hips. He digs out my photographs from his back pocket and throws them in my lap.