Page 45 of What We Had

My cock went to full mast. In those basketball shorts, he could undoubtedly feel every inch of my length, the way it twitched as I squeezed my pelvic muscle.

His breathing jumped as he released my thumb. My breath hitched when he opened his eyes. I could see he stood on the precipice of a moment as decision weighed in his eyes. His soul had written a message directly on his irises for me to read: I want this, please see how much I want this, but the idea is so much easier than the reality.

Not yet, I knew instantly. My dick disagreed and rallied as many internal troops as he could to call for a mutiny. I overrode the mutineers and spoke before Bennett could slip into something dark and I would internally combust.

“We’re getting there,” I said. “One night at a time. Tonight was no exception. We kept our clothes on and you didn’t flinch once.” I drew my thumb back to remove the temptation. “I’m so proud of you, Bennett. You really are a survivor.” I leaned back and adjusted the tails of my unzipped sweatshirt to hide the tent of my shorts.

He propped himself up on his elbows. Licked his lips. “How do you read me like that? How could you see where my mind was going just now?”

“What you did is a guaranteed zero-to-sixty for me,” I told him. “And you didn’t know that. I know you were being playful, and I saw that you realized you made a mistake. I knew you probably thought you pushed me beyond whereyouwere comfortable.” He spoke, but I kept going. “Never apologize for any of that. Ever. You can tease me until I’m blue in the, well,you know.” I gestured around our space. “It’s safe here, between you and me. No judgement. We step forward and back as much or as little as we need to.” I looked around, blew out all the air in my lungs, and looked at the digital clock on the stove. “Speaking of blue you-know-what, I should probably get going here.”

“I took the next three days off,” Bennett blurted out as I stood from our nest of cushions.

My brow lifted. “You did?”

“I did. I was hoping we could spend more time together. I was thinking of making a reservation tomorrow at Riverwalk? You could wear that fancy outfit. I’ll try to find something nice. A good old-fashioned date?”

I melted back into the cushions and planked myself over him, careful so that my hips didn’t connect with his body. Our lips touched, softly. “You’ve just made me and Ethan the happiest men in the world.”

Bursting laughs. Bennett brayed and brayed like a kicking donkey as he haw-hawed his way through what I thought was a mediocre joke about our waiter from the other day. I wanted to record him. Listen to it on repeat. Take a picture of the way his eyes squeezed shut as his mouth opened wide to let out as much air as possible.

How much further can I fall?I wondered.

We were driving toward the edge of something. I could feel it. We were free-falling intoI love yousand nights counted in heartbeats and breaths. Was it three more days until Bennett gave himself completely to me? Or would it be three days until he confessed that yes, he loved me too?

Did we have three days to figure out how and why it all went so, so wrong? On day three, would Bennett finally tell me why he never called, never bothered to see or speak to me again until the day he caught me speeding?

Three days.

I kissed him again. Kissed him until we needed air. Kissed him until the scars of my heartache went numb.

?

Theride back to the house passed in silence. My mind emptied of anything substantial. Every evening with Bennett felt like progress, even if that progress had been him showing me another way he could be triggered.

I turned onto the street I lived on. My phone chirped. When I pulled into the driveway, I shut off the car and slipped my phone from my pocket.

A single text, Deacon’s response to my earlier communication about seeing Jersey again.

Deacon:I’m flying out there.

ChapterThirteen

RACHELHADHERarms crossed, a finger tapping on her elbow, a foot matching the rhythm. She smacked her lips, pursed them, and let her stare carve out my skull. Morning light filtered down the hallway, the kitchen overheads electric and bright. A single waft of steam escaped the coffee mug between us, set atop the white and gold quartz island.

“Connor,” she said slowly, “you can’t keep doing this to me. There’s a reason I went against your mother’s wishes and called you back home.”

I wrapped my fingers around the hot mug. “I promise just tonight. I can handle tomorrow. But then maybe, if you could stay here the following night?”

“Connor!”

I shrugged. “I’m so, so sorry Rachel, but this is important.”

She unfolded her arms and jammed a thumb into her breastbone. “Mypersonal life is important to me, too. I can’t keep spending my nights here while you do the horizontal hustle in Bennett’s bed.”

I half laughed, half scoffed. “Pleasenever say ‘horizontal hustle’ ever again.”

She put her hands on the edge of the counter and leaned forward. “But you’re not denying it.”

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