Page 24 of What We Had

I snickered. Leaned back in my seat, turned my attention forward. “So they used this song for a scene we filmed in Brazil for this movie six years ago.Call of the Cattleya.” I scratched my beard, sucked air through my teeth. “Picture it. I’m on set wearing nothing but a sock on my, well, word that rhymes with sock.” I looked over at him and double-raised my eyebrows. He shook his head, but I already got him smiling. “The actress wanted absolutelynothingto do with me. But we had to shoot this scene, anyway. Zero chemistry. Director knew it. The crew knew it.Iwas well aware of it. I could feel her disgust when we had to kiss. And I meanreallykiss. ’Cause you know, it’s a sex scene and all. Took two damned days to film that awful scene and they never even released it.”

“You only had a sock on? In front of people?” He whistled low. “I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Oh,” I said and held my hands out in front of me, “trust me.Youcould pull it off.” He scoffed. I took it as an invitation to continue. “You already hold gym records for most swoll. There’s no doubt in my mind you can set a record for… I dunno… hottest sock fill.” I laughed at how absurd that sounded. I looked over and Bennett had the widest grin.

Push. Go further. “Now, you aren’t blushing over there, Officer Dubois, are you?”

“Stop.”

“You don’t want to talk about what size sock to ask for when filming a sex scene? Because there are sizes and you need to tell them which one. Aren’t you curious about what it’s like to roll one of those things on and then be immediately hyperaware of what everyone is staring at?”

“Connor,” he warned, though he couldn’t keep the laughter from his voice.

“What was that word you used? Ignominious? Well, I’ll tell you what. Ain’t nothing embarrassing about Bennett Dubois wearing a sock.”

“You’re killin’ me here.”

Keep going. Don’t stop.“Don’t think you can hide how much you’re blushing, just because we’re sitting here in the dark. Where’s the dome light in this thing?” I fumbled both hands along the ceiling in an overly dramatic gesture to turn on the light. I had no intention of doing so, but through giggling fits, Bennett reached up to stop me.

Our hands collided as he pulled them down. I didn’t let go. Neither did he.

Suddenly, both our smiles faded. I felt my eyes dilate. Warmth spread through my chest.

Now.

I extended my right hand from his and reached up to cup his cheek. Gently, I pulled him forward and he glided effortlessly toward me.

Lips pressed. Something gentle at first. I shut my eyes as my system flooded with endorphins. I tested and opened my lips partially. Then he seemed to understand my question and opened fully. My tongue slipped inside, finding his. Wet heat and sliding. Exploring the inside of his mouth as I wrapped my hand around the back of his head, pulling him deeper into me.

He breathed furiously through his nose. I hazarded a quick peek, opening my eyes to see his squeezed tightly shut. A fury, a hunger plain to see. Did he want more?ShouldI give more?

I closed my eyes and let intuition guide me. His tongue darted in and out of my mouth. A groan escaped him. His hand shot toward my chest, grabbed a handful of sweater and yanked me toward him. I couldn’t break this kiss, even if I wanted to. He tasted like lemon and honey, sweet and tart all at the same time. I hungered for more. Needed more than just tongue and slick lips.

He pulled away first, the hunger suddenly abating as if a greater authority had caught us. I remained leaning over the center console, frozen in place, while he sat back. His chest rose and fell.

Rapid blinking.

Oh no.

I inched back into my seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I thought you wanted…”

He stayed quiet, and I didn’t push. The wipers and the rain filled the silence. A car passed. Definitely should have been pulled over.

With each passing second, I felt my heart constrict tighter. I had pushed too far, too fast. I read the signs wrong. Maybe it was too dark in the car. The leftover giddiness from the gym and our nonstop texting since then had clearly left me with an impression that didn’t add up.

Bennett finally spoke. Only a minute had passed, but it felt like ten times that. His voice came out as a barely there whisper. “I want this.” Then, quieter, he said, “But I’m scared.”

Pounding heart, narrowing vision. My toes curled inside my shoes. I put my hands on my thighs and gripped tight. It wasn't clear to me why he was scared. He knew me. “I want this, too.”

“I don’t want some fling, Connor. Not with you. Of all people.” More confidence in his voice now, like the way he spoke at the side door by the kitchen. “You don’t even live here anymore. Who knows how long you’re staying?”

His concerns could fall into either the amateur mistake, or the veteran wisdom. He looked past the current moment and into a future of possibilities. This was not my strong suit. I focused on what was in front of me. Everything else be damned. We could figure things out as they came up. Bennett did not operate that way, as I came to learn.

“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here. I don’t have any work back in LA. I can put in a leave of absence at the center while I focus on my mother’s health. I’m here for the foreseeable future, if that helps you any.” I turned to look at him. His eyes were on me.

Butyoulet things slide into nothing, I thought. Or the darker side of me did.All I wanted was for you to call me.

No. Ignore that. Twelve years changes a man.

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