Page 75 of Broken By the Bad Boy

In a few minutes, we are at the park. It is not as packed as it would be during the holidays. We link arms as we start for the ice-cream stand. I giggle when Ben picks flavors for me: vanilla and strawberry. The ice-cream lady steals glances at us, and I grin harder. He pays. I don’t protest.

The sky grows darker. We circle the park on foot, no words spoken except for the occasional slurping sounds made by us when licking our ice-cream. An electronic sound catches my attention. A booth with stuffed animals on display. I drag Ben to the store. There’s a loop on the wall with a glass of stuffed animals under it. You can earn one by making a clean shot.

I look at Ben with puppy eyes. “Benny.”

The attendant, an old man with wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, smiles. “How are ya?” His voice has a thick drawl. He explains the rules to us, and Ben’s frown deepens. “Three down, and you win.”

Laughter bubbles out of my lips. There’s no way I am leaving this place with a stuffy. You need three shots in a row to win one of the stuffy. Ben turns to me, a hand in the pocket of his jeans.

“Are you sure you want this?”

Instead of putting him out of his discomfort, I point to a stuffed lion in the pile. It has a tiny scar on its face that reminds me of Scar from Lion King. My smile widens at my boyfriend’s scowl.

The old man offers him seven balls. Ben gives me a look, and I shrug. He shoots one ball, and it goes into the net. I plug my fingers into my ears and scream. The old man laughs. Ben shakes his head.

I love him too.

Ben misses the next one. And the next. I yawn and hug myself. He stares intently at the hoop. If he makes three straight wins, we’ll get it. I don’t think it is possible. Basketball is not his thing.

When he misses one more, a groan escapes me. This was supposed to be fun but watching him struggle has my skin prickling with guilt. Ben slaps a dollar note on the counter and requests to play again. I watch with less enthusiasm as he makes the shot. He wins the first two, and I stand taller. The initial excitement returns. I bounce on my toes, hands clasped and eyes glued to the loop. He takes the shot, and it goes right through. He punches the air, then rushes over to lift me.

“I knew you could do it,” I say with all smiles.

He grins. “Liar.”

To be fair, it looked impossible. The old man clears his throat. Ben doesn’t put me down, and my legs wrap around his waist as he collects the stuffy. Before, I would be so conscious or bothered about others’ opinions of us, but these days, I give no shit. I try to ignore the voices, and it works.

Ben frowns at the lion, like he’s disappointed in his win. “You should also play, babe.” I freeze. No fucking way. I will lose before the game starts. He senses my hesitation and brushes his lips against mine. “Yes, babe. I also want a teddy. It’s the only anniversary gift I want from you.”

Hiding my face in my palms, I shake my head. The only thing I’ll do is embarrass myself.

“Benny,” I say with a pout. “It’s hard. Don’t make your Gracie suffer for nothing.”

Ben wrinkles his nose. My arms lock around his neck, and I plant a kiss on his lips. When I think I have convinced my boyfriend to drop it, he says, “What a man can do, a woman can do better.”

“But you said I’m not a woman. I’m a girl.”

My lips take on a victorious smile when he concedes defeat. We wave the old man goodbye and head to the car. The radio flickers to life, and a song filters into the air. I reduce it to the lowest.

Ben throws the lion up and catches it effortlessly. “What will you call him?” he asks.

“BJ.” Ben snorts, and his hand goes over his mouth. It takes a few seconds for me to understand why. When I do, I slap the lion against his chest. “Get your dirty mind out of the gutter, Benny. BJ. Benny Junior.”

Ignoring the laser gaze directed my way, I put the car in drive. It’s a few minutes past eight. Mom expects me to be back soon. We reach his house in no time, and I take my rightful position on his lap. We grin at each other, but that quickly makes way for a frown. I don’t want him to go.

Eyes downcast, he says, “I enjoyed today.”

Ben rubs his nose against mine, and a tingle slowly makes its way to every fiber of my being.

I enjoy every moment spent together with him.

“You have to go,” he says without attempting to get me off his lap. He slips a wad of one-hundred dollar bills from his pocket, counts ten, and places them on my palm. My brows raise. “Go buy yourself a house.”

That’s a line from a music video we both watched. “You’re an idiot.”

“Your idiot.”

We stay silent for a moment, and then I sigh again. My heart is heavy. “I need to go now,” I whisper.

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