Page 28 of Broken By the Bad Boy

The phone on the table vibrates. I untangle myself completely from Ben to pick it up. It’s a text from Mom. She wants to know my current location. She’s aware I am at Ben’s, but the weather is worrisome. Kneeling by the table, I shove books into my backpack when I feel him behind me.

His breath warms my skin. He pushes my hair over one shoulder and pecks my neck. After texting Mom a reply, I turn to him. He hoists me up, and my legs easily lock around his waist.

“I have to go,” I murmur against his shoulder.

Ben pries his phone from his pocket to reply to a chat from WhatsApp. He laughs at one of the messages on his screen. “I can’t believe Liam is taking his girlfriend on a picnic. It’s their first date,” he murmurs, and his lips brush my neck. “Of all the places to go, he chose a damn park.”

I freeze, but he doesn’t notice. Liam is his friend from school. He never misses a chance to show off his girlfriend. Meanwhile, my boyfriend can’t take me on a date. I don’t think our date will ever happen. Money is not the issue since Ben won his last two matches. I don’t know anymore. I guess I should be grateful I have a boyfriend. A date can happen in the future.

Ben slips his phone into his pocket with a tiny smile and a slight shake of his head. I am tempted to flick a finger over his forehead for laughing at his friend’s idea of a perfect date, but I bury my face in his shoulder and breathe in his scent. He smells like popcorn and something woody.

A picnic date at the park or beach with my boyfriend is perfect for me. We can walk around the park while holding hands and sharing lame jokes. Ben sets me down on my feet to turn off the TV. With his hands on my shoulders, he ushers me to the front door. The skies are darker. I need to leave while I can. I attempt to push past him, but he steps out and shuts the door behind him.

Leaning on the doorframe, he tries to take my hands, but I slide them into my back pockets. He tilts my jaw to meet his gaze. I lick my lips. I don’t like it when he stares this hard at me; it makes it almost impossible to lie.

“Babe.” He frowns. His thumb runs over my lip. “What’s wrong?”

The words are heavy in my mouth. I gauge Ben’s face to decide if voicing my thoughts is the best option. Ben lifts a brow and takes another step forward until we are at least a foot apart. “A picnic date isn’t the worst date idea. Because you don’t like it doesn’t make it bad.” My voice is a bit snappy at the end. I take a deep breath. “Sometimes, it’s the thought that counts,” I mutter.

I miss the heat he was offering, but I don’t touch him. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I know it’s Mom but ignore it. I don’t need to hear a lecture if she finds out I am not already on my way.

Ben steps down, so we are standing toe to toe. The height difference becomes more obvious, but I don’t back down under his intense gaze. He folds his arms. “What’s your idea of a perfect date?”

“Candlelight dinner, I guess. And a walk in the park,” I reply. He’s still staring at me with that look that makes me doubt myself. I push one foot forward to draw circles on the floor. Ben is so close that my thoughts melt into one. But I need to get this off my chest. “It doesn’t have to be something big, Benny. Anything that allows us privacy and bonding time. I’m up for that.”

Ben doesn’t reply to that, and all hopes of going on a date with him evaporates. I walk ahead of him to my car while he locks the door. My eyes are heavy with unshed tears, and my vision blurs a bit. I don’t get him. He won’t use the card, he won’t split the bills, and he won’t let me pay. I blink back the tears when he ambles toward my car. He made me promise never to withhold anything from him, but I have no idea how to mention the date to him. Maybe I am putting more thought into a date than what we already share. He loves me, and I love him. That matters more.

Placing my bag on the passenger seat, Ben secures the seatbelt around it. After, he comes over to do the same for me. A rumbling in the distance causes our heads to lift to the skies. We share another gaze.

His face registers the disappointment I manage to hide, and he kisses a path from my neck down to my ear. “Drive safe, babe.” He shuts my door and hugs me through the window. The front door of his neighbor’s house opens. Someone’s head pokes out, and the door closes. “I love you.”

I put the car in reverse and mutter, “Love you too.”

* * *

I think I am depressed. Why else am I stuffing my face with cookies dipped in two flavored ice-cream on a beautiful Friday evening?

The answer is simple. I have not seen my best friend and boyfriend in days. In truth, I miss Ben more than I miss Maria, but if she were here, she would have taken my mind off him.

What’s he doing now?

I set the ice-cream tub on the nightstand and bring out my phone. The movie I was watching on my laptop has ended, but I can’t remember the title. There are no new messages from either of them. Ben has kept in touch since the Christmas break began. We call and text all the time. I also get to speak to Asher when he’s available. I open my browser and click on the BGC website.

Since someone posted my letter, I’ve been checking it more often than I should. The post has ten more comments than it did yesterday. Lett wants us to forget it exists on the blog in hopes it will blow over, but what if someone figures out it’s me? My handwriting there is different, but I still worry.

The new comments are harmless. All guesses. Since school is on vacation, there aren’t new posts to push this back. I toss the phone on my other pillow. In my rush to get out of bed and shower, my feet tangle in the cover. Instead of pushing it off me, I fall back to the bed with a huff.

What was my life before Ben? My eyes find the ceiling. Memories replay in slow motion. Would I have paid more attention to Lett if there was no Ben? How can Lett be Noah? This is crazy. Do I pretend that the Halloween night never happened and treat him nicely? What if he apologizes?

Someone knocks on the door. I place a pillow over my face and groan into it. Only two of us are home. Hayden and I. He’s hell-bent on annoying the shit out of me until he returns to school.

“Go away.” My voice is muffled. I am not sure he heard me. Even if he did, he wouldn’t listen.

The door opens, and the bed dips under his weight. “This place stinks.”

Hayden is a liar. I have not had my bath today, but he is exaggerating. Siblings exaggerate all the time. Hayden moves to the window and parts the curtain, allowing a welcome streak of sunlight.

I watch his movements from the corner of my eyes, too tired to assist him. Not that he needs help. His muscles have doubled since the last time he was home. Body wise, I look nothing like him.

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