Page 43 of Loved By The Bad Boy

Ben snorts. “A charming idiot, yeah?”

Hand in hand, we continue down the hallway. “I know we still have to talk, but I’m grounded.”

“Because of me?” he asks.

“Yeah, partly. But we can talk on the phone.” It takes two to tango, and I can’t blame him alone. I hold up the Samsung phone with a half-smile. “I got my phone back this morning. I’ll call you.”

“I don’t think a phone call is enough,” he says minutes later. “I need to say it to your face.”

The seriousness that creeps into his voice frightens me. I haven’t forgotten what he said about loneliness. I have a feeling it has less to do with Olivia and more to do with his mom and Josef.

“Okay, Benny,” I say and nod again. “I’ll wait.”

We continue to our class in silence. We have Mrs. Miller for first period. Ben stops in front of the door without opening it. By my calculation, we have a few minutes until first period, so the delay doesn’t bother me. But his expression does. Is it possible to breakup without reconciling?

“Gracie—”

“Benny—”

Our nervous laughter cuts through the silence. “You first,” Ben says.

“Do you…” My foot bobs, and I wring my fingers until they lose feeling. Ben tries to touch me, but I duck. I don’t think his touch can calm me. “Do you still feel lonely when you’re with me?”

“Gracie.”

“Just answer, please.”

Ben’s fingers caress my cheeks. I’m crying. Why? Maybe because I don’t feel enough for him. And I can’t help wondering what my purpose is in his life. He means so much to me, and I can’t say the same for him.

“I never did. With you, I don’t feel alone. Before you, I would. Not anymore.” I nod but don’t fully relax. Ben’s forehead meets mine, and he pries my fists open. My palms are sweaty, but he doesn’t mention that as he intertwines our fingers. “That’s what I meant. I guess I didn’t express myself properly. It’s not you. It’s never you. It’s me. It’s my fault. You’re enough for me, Gracie.”

“You’re enough for me too, Benny.”

His arms surround me, and he murmurs against my neck, “I have so much to tell you, Gracie.”

And I cannot wait to hear everything he has to say.

“Saturday then?” I suggest. My parents should have calmed down by then.

“Saturday.”

Eighteen

Benand I have one more class together before lunch break. While we wait for the teacher to join us, he doodles on the back of his note. He has been unusually quiet. I caught him staring at me for most of our first class together. I try not to disturb him as he sketches, but he has been stuck in the same spot, drawing a line over and over again to the point he ripped the sheet.

“Hey—”

But my boyfriend scoots out of his seat before I finish the sentence. His book clatters to the floor. He either doesn’t see it or doesn’t care as he stomps over it on his way to the door. Too stunned to react, I stare at his notepad, then the door he exited. What just happened? What does he want to tell me that’s making him so nervous? I dump the note on his seat and hurry out of the class.

The hallway is empty, and that causes my heart to drop as far down as my knees. My feet clap against the tiles as I jog to the boys’ bathroom, the only place I can think of. Ben steps out of the restroom, and a breath of relief bursts out of my lips. He’s okay. I’m overthinking this, right?

“Hey,” I say, but my voice is so shaky I give up on trying to form a full sentence.

Water drips down his forehead, coating his eyelashes and rolling down his shirt. He tugs the hem of his shirt to wipe his face, but the sight of his abs doesn’t distract me. Something is wrong, and I can’t fix it. Plus, we both need to be in class right now. I go in for a hug, but he remains stiff.

“Benny,” I whisper.

His breath burns my neck. “I’m freaking out,” he admits.

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