Page 21 of Broken By the Bad Boy

If my heart was breaking before, now it shatters into tinier pieces. “Don’t say that, Benny.”

I straddle him and take his hand, loving and loathing the semi-darkness that prevents me from completely seeing his face. He needs to know that I’m on his side. “You don’t have to return a cent to them.” I shake my head vehemently to stop him from replying. “She brought you into this world, babe. She should take care of you.” He retracts his hands to run them through his hair, but a part of me feels like he’s avoiding my touch. “She’s your parent, Ben. It’s her responsibility.”

His smile is so sad it hurts. My heart aches. My eyes burn from trying to keep down the tears. It feels like I took the little things I had for granted. When did I ever have to refund my parents? In cases where I explicitly asked them to lend me money, we all knew I would never return it because that’s what it is about. Tending to my needs. I am their baby. Mom’s sweetheart. Dad’s pet.

“You can’t understand,” he whispers.

I grab his hands and hold them to my chest. My heart pounds. “Then make me understand.”

Ben replies with a kiss on my forehead. I tuck my head in the crook of his neck, knowing this conversation is over. His hand crawls up my back. There’s nothing sensual about his touch, but my body vibrates.

“Your body is perfect the way it is, Gracie Juliet Mower. Dad used to call it a superpower,” he mutters into my hair. My pulse quickens, and my heart races so hard I fear it will tunnel out of my chest. I remember our state of undress as we share the heat of our bodies. The first time I saw Asher, he called his vitiligo his superpower. His dad must have been his favorite parent. “I agree. Not all of us are lucky to have superpowers like this. I think you should own yours. Flex it, babe.”

Adults say teens are too young to fall in love or too immature to understand the intricacies of love, but what I feel for Ben is real. We might not love the same way adults do, but the way I love him is enough. Staring at him through eyes shimmering with tears, I whisper, “I think I love you.”

The intense look in his eyes has my head lowering, and I fiddle with the waistband of his briefs as the silence stretches. Did I say it too soon? We became official less than a week ago, and I am already saying this. I steal a peek at his face. He’s frowning. Did I scare him? Shit. I ruined this.

My lips part, but he cuts me off with a question. “How do you know you love someone?”

I think back to all the times Mom talks about Dad, even in his absence, what Dad told me when we had that dinner and all the little things they do for each other. How much she prioritizes his happiness and how much he reciprocates the simple gesture whenever he can. It is not entirely the same with Ben and me, and that’s okay. I bring Ben’s hands to cup my face. He pouts. I grin.

“When you are always thinking about them,” I reply, “and you want them to be happy.”

He touches his forehead to mine. “I don’t think I love you. I know I love you, Gracie.”

Nine

Me:I dropped a letter for you.

Lett:What about?

Me:You will have to read it to find out ;)

Me:Does your girlfriend know you have a pen pal?

Lett:No. Does your boyfriend know?

Me:No.

Me:Will you tell her?

Ten minutes later, and Lett hasn’t replied. I glimpse blue jeans from the corner of my eye and shove my phone into my backpack as my boyfriend approaches. Ben’s arms circle my waist, and he lifts me off the ground to drop me on the hood of my car. Standing between my legs, he drags my lower lip between his. I lean into his embrace, taking a whiff of his cologne. I love this guy.

“Who was that?”

We are alone in the parking lot, but I whisper in return, “No one.”

Ben folds his arms. I stroke his forearm. He is mine. “And you were smiling like that?”

“Are you jealous?” I tilt my head.

“If it’s another guy? Yes. I want to be the only guy making you smile,” he says with so much sincerity.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach. I drag a hand over Ben’s shirt, flattening my hands on his chest, directly over his heart beating hard against my palms. “What about my dad? He’s a guy.”

Ben’s smile is adorable. “You know what I meant.” I do. But I can’t mention Lett to him. Not only will it be awkward since I have shared more secrets with Lett than him, but it may also ruin us. He interprets my silence as approval, and his lips pucker. “Aw, babe. That was really a guy?”

“Well…” I let the seconds drag on while inspecting his face. “Just a friend. You are the one I want.”

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