Page 4 of Broken By the Bad Boy

Two

Ben loses his match.

My nails dig into my palm as the referee raises Ben’s opponent’s hand to declare him the winner of tonight’s match. They breathe heavily, sweat dripping down their bodies. The lights rotate till they solely focus on Jack, and the crowd breaks into a scream. Soon, a deafening chant begins.

Ben searches the crowd for me. I wave, and he looks away once our eyes connect. It might have been my imagination, but disappointment laced with hurt flashed in his blues. It wasn’t his fault. He gave his all.

I fight through sticky bodies to get out of the auditorium. Dread sweeps over me when Ben storms outside. I meet him pacing in front of my car. He halts for a second when he sees me, then starts for the empty road. I race after him, jumping in his path to stop him from leaving.

“Ben.” Sweat soaks my palms as I cup his face. With his eyes cast down, I can’t tell if he heard me. His silence is startling. I bring his hands to my waist. “You did your best, Benny. I promise.”

“I could have done better,” he whispers, and his eyes finally raise to mine. “I wanted to win.”

On my toes, I press a kiss to his lips. “I know, babe.”

Fingers laced, I drag him to my car and try to tuck in his seatbelt. Ben wraps his arms around my waist in a tight hug. “I should have listened to you,” he whispers against my hair.

I don’t say a word until I’m in the car and have fastened my seatbelt. “We win some. We lose some.” My boyfriend pouts, and I lean over to kiss him. “It’s just a game, Benny. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. I wanted to take you out.”

When the car is out of the driveway, I place a hand on the steering and take his.

“How about this?” He is mute, but I know he’s listening. The silence stretches, becoming more uncomfortable for me. “Let me take you out, and when you are ready, you can take us out. You get to take me out like you planned, and I get my date. It’s a win-win for both of us,” I add when I sense his refusal coming. He releases my hand to shove them into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Fine by me.”

We stop at an intersection, and the streetlight pours into our car, highlighting the cut on the side of Ben’s face. Jack can be brutal. His weakness is speed, something I mastered the hard way.

“You are bleeding,” I tell Ben. He feels his face for the injury and frowns. For someone with a large ego, he’s a sore loser. “There’s a first aid kit somewhere there. Just check. You will see it.”

The traffic eases. I roll down the front windows completely and zoom off. “Nothing to see here,” Ben says seconds after searching through the car compartment. He pulls out my leftover cookies. I chuckle when he munches them without my permission. Ben, the foodie. “This is nice, babe.”

He has eaten my cookies too many times to count but always acts like it’s his first time.

We arrive at Ben’s house, and I follow behind him without an invitation. Lights flood the room once Ben flips the switch. Asher is not home on a weekday. It’s odd, but I don’t mention it. From what I gathered about the Carter brothers, they have an unusual family dynamic. Asher spends most of the weekends with his mom and stepdad. It’s Ben’s job to get Asher to and from school.

Ben sets up the TV, ushering me to a couch before racing upstairs to get a change of clothes and first aid kit. The noise from the TV drowns his footsteps. I don’t hear my boyfriend walk in until he grabs my shoulders, and a scream tears out of my lips. Jesus Christ. Maybe I am a scaredy cat.

“Fuck you, Benny,” I yell over my shoulder. The meanie doubles over with laughter. Ben jumps over the couch to sit beside me, and I place a hand over my chest to calm my heart. My attempt to stay mad at him is futile. He snuggles closer to me, and my annoyance evaporates. He pecks my cheek. I observe his face to know his mood while running my fingers through his damp hair. I don’t want him beating himself up for today’s loss. “You almost gave your girlfriend a heart attack.”

His head lowers, and he captures my lips in a brief kiss. “Didn’t mean to, Gracie.” He hoists me on his legs like I weigh nothing. Foreheads touching, his arms sneak around my waist. “I really wanted to win.” The sadness in Ben’s voice leaks into the air. I hold him a little closer for an extra minute while he breathes in my presence. He pulls away with an ear-splitting grin. “Thanks.”

He drags the center table closer to us and props his legs on it. Taking over the remote, he flicks through the different movies on the homepage of Netflix with one hand tucked behind his head.

The remote dangles in Ben’s hand, and he frowns at the TV. “Want to see anything?”

He curls a piece of my hair when I rest my head on his lap and throw my legs over the armrest. A moan catches in my throat at the sensations that build in my belly as he massages my scalp. I sink my nails into my leg to keep from moaning. I am fine with us sitting here in silence, doing this.

“No, Benny. Not really.” His handsome face comes into view. “Do you have a movie in mind?”

“I could watch you all night,” he whispers. My breath staggers in my chest. Blush climbs my cheeks, and I grab a throw pillow to hide the evidence. His responding laughter tugs at my heart. Snatching the pillow, he kisses the tip of my nose. He pulls me up to straddle him. His breath fans my face, causing shivers to roll down my back. “Don’t be shy, Gracie. Relax. It’s just us.”

Just us. Ben and Gracie in this small house.

The words have more than one effect on me, mostly erotic. My nipples stretch against the fabric of my sports bra, creating two beady dots on my top. The skin between my legs tingles at the thought of all we could do within this time. Are we about to Netflix and chill? I don’t even know how to make out.

Ben’s eyes darken, darting between my face and chest. His fingertips caress my tits. I whimper and splay my fingers on his bare chest, which my brain registers now. His chest is firm and warm under my touch. I trace the space between his abs, his chiseled jaw, and the cut on his face.

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