Page 8 of Broken By the Bad Boy

“It’s not pretty,” I blurt out. “Don’t even lie.”

“Maybe just think of them as a part of you. They don’t need to be pretty; they just need to be part of you.” I click my tongue. That’s easy for him to say. “Like how I think of my stretch marks.”

I gasp. “You have stretch marks?”

“Yes, it’s normal.” Ben lifts his shirt, and the beauty of his body sucks me in. I swallow to wet my parched throat. The idiot wipes the corner of my lips. “You had a little drool here, babe.”

“Asshole,” I reply, laughter coloring my voice. He drags my hand over the short vertical lines on his armpit. They aren’t so noticeable because they easily blend with his skin. “It’s sexy, Benny.”

“Sexy is not quite the word, but yeah.” His tongue runs over his bottom lip, and he winks. So much arrogance packed into one person. “I think your vitiligo is sexy. It’s that part of you that makes you different from me, your best friend, your parents, and everyone else. It’s a part of you, Gracie.”

“Okay, Benny.”

“Different can be good,” he whispers.

I hear him, but his words haven’t fully penetrated those stubborn walls of insecurity.

“Okay,” I reply.

Ben stares down at me with unusual tenderness. He opens his mouth and closes it without a word. The second time he does that, I palm his face. “What is it? Just say it. I can handle it.”

“You should wear a crop top,” he says. “And take more pictures.”

I roll my eyes. I’m super done with this conversation. “Maybe if you wear a crop top, I will do the same.” Ben tries to speak, but I cut him off by saying, “Will I be seeing you tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll be home with my mom and Asher. We have to be there for thanksgiving.”

A knot twists in my heart. Mom has an impromptu trip tomorrow morning, and Dad will be Dad. Busy as always. But we will get to celebrate together on Sunday. It’s not the first time we have moved Thanksgiving because of their work schedules. Maybe I’ll hang out at Maria’s house.

“Can I come?” I whisper. I spread my fingers on Ben’s chest, unable to meet his eyes. He can probably smell the desperation oozing from my pores. I feel his disappointment coming before he even says the word.

“Gracie…”

“Will I ever get to meet your mom?” I ask.

He nods fast. “Of course. But not tomorrow, okay?”

Hurt pumps through me, and my fake smile only grows faker. I lock my arms around his neck, nose rubbing against his as I slip into the role of a perfect girlfriend. “Alright. Have fun and send me pictures.”

Four

On Friday morning,I’m out of the house before 7 am. Adrenaline pumps through me as my car slows in front of Ben’s house. I didn’t see him yesterday. Save for that one selfie he sent to me after I bugged him, we barely chatted. I honk twice to announce my presence, but the front door remains closed. Seconds roll by as I contemplate waiting in the car or crashing into his house.

The front door flies open when I’m halfway to Ben’s house, and my boyfriend rushes down the short row of stairs. I fly into his arms, nearly toppling him over as my legs lock around his waist. Ben has a bigger smile than I do. I smooth his hair out of his face and kiss him fully on his lips.

“I missed you, Benny,” I whine. “You didn’t call your girlfriend.”

“Sorry.” Ben cups my butt, his steps slow as he saunters to my car. He drops me on the hood. “I was going to text you, but Asher kept asking for my help with this ‘cool gift’ Josef gave him.”

Sarcasm laces my boyfriend’s voice. He rolls his eyes like his stepdad is here.

“You don’t like Josef?”

Ben frowns. “He’s chill.”

Wiggling out of Ben’s embrace, I drop to the floor. My arms reach down to circle his waist but encounter skin in place of a shirt. He grows warm under my stare. Two red dots appear on his cheeks, and he tries to look away. I palm his face, keeping his shy gaze trained on me.

“What are you wearing?” I ask. My palm trails the visible skin of his abs. I push a finger into his belly button, and he jumps. Grabbing my hands, he tugs them behind me. My gaze lasers on his visible skin. “Benny, really, what is your plan? What are you wearing? What are you doing?”

---