“I don’t feel anything,” I lied. “He was being a friend.”
She twisted her lip. It was the thing she did instead of calling bullshit—when she didn’t believe a
word I was saying. We sat in silence while I got lost in my own thoughts.
Ella swirled the liquid concoction in front of her with her spoon. “Is he someone you
could
be
friends with?”
“Probably.” I said it like I meant it. Yet, I still wasn’t certain. I mean, sure, I could be around him. But without wanting something more from him?
“That’s actually a good thing,” Ella said.
“Why?” I took a bite of my strawberry cheese Danish.
“So you can finally see that not all men will do what that prick did to you,” she said, twirling her
brown locks around her finger. “You don’t have to fight off all men. Or use them. Or control them. And
you know I’m not referring to some lunatic trying to break through your window.”
My mouth hung open. Normally Ella was bashing me for my antics with guys while still acting like
she reveled in the details. Like she was living vicariously through my vagina or something.
“You’re a strong, gorgeous, independent woman who just happens to carry around so much
emotional baggage that it weighs her down.” She patted my hand across the table. “But sometimes it’s
okay to let someone in.”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “Oh, I’ve let plenty of guys
in
.”
That got a snort out of her.
“As a
friend
, you slut. Someone who can warm your heart, not your bed.”
“You sound like a fucking Hallmark card,” I said. “And a lot like Mrs. Jackson.”
“How’s she doing?” Ella eyes brightened. She’d met her once when she’d come to my job to take
me to lunch. Mrs. Jackson was being wheeled around the grounds by her husband and she had insisted
on meeting Ella. They’d ended up talking for an hour and I’d missed my lunch. “God, I love that lady.
I’d take her as my surrogate grandmother any day.”
“She’s probably the only representation of a parental figure I have,” I said. “Except I’m the one
taking care of
her
.”
“I don’t know about that. I’d say it’s mutual.” Ella’s eyes softened. “Hey, have you talked to your
bro lately?”
“Of course. I need to keep daily tabs on him.” I sighed. “He’s still dating Andrea. He’s taking her to
prom. I just hope she doesn’t break his heart.” “He’s a good egg—somehow has his head screwed on straight, despite that mother of yours.” Ella
would never be a fan of my mother. She knew our situation only too well, and I was grateful for her
friendship.
She’d saved me from jumping off the nearest bridge a few times in high school. Her parents were
understanding and let me sleep over, too many nights to count, after my mother and I had had one of our
screaming matches.
But our friendship definitely went both ways. I knew Ella’s optimistic front sometimes hid a lot of
pain. Her family had its own share of heartbreak when Ella’s brother passed away in high school. Ella
admitted my sleepovers helped her get through some rough nights, too.
“So back to the hottie-neighbor-friend,” she said. “Describe him, five words or less, and
go
.” It was
a game we’d played since high school called Five Fingers, but I wasn’t in the mood.
Besides, the only words I could think of at the moment to describe Bennett were
hot, hot, hot, hot,
and
hot
.
“C’mon, tell me
something
,” she said.
“He works at Raw Ink.” I said it like I was proud or something. “He’s also an art major at TSU.”
“No way—think he can do my tattoo?” Ella had wanted a tattoo for as long as I’d known her. Even
after graduation when I went to get mine, she’d wanted one, but then chickened out. “You’ll come with,
right?”
“Sure,” I said, even though I wasn’t totally sure. Why did I ever hook up with Bennett’s boss that
night? If I showed up at his place of employment, Oliver might think I was still interested. And then if
Oliver and Bennett got to talking about me—yikes. Although I wasn’t even sure why I cared what
Bennett thought of how I spent my nights. “Maybe you could go to the shop, view his work. Tell him
your ideas and see what he comes up with.”
*** After kickboxing, I studied my butt off for my critical care class. I needed to keep a B average so I
didn’t have to repeat the course again. Next semester my nursing rotation would be in the university
hospital’s intensive care unit, and I was excited to learn something new. The nursing home had prepped
me well for end-stage care and crisis intervention. And maybe there’d be a job waiting for me at the
hospital upon graduation.
I knew I’d be decent at nursing because I could keep my emotions at bay while helping people who
were too vulnerable to care for themselves. It was important to me, plus the pay was good, because
nurses were in such short demand.
Deep down, I’d wanted to make my grandma proud. She’d been a nurse’s aide—had never taken
the steps to get her degree. She’d encouraged me to go to college, even at an early age. Said I’d be the
first in our family to graduate, since Mom had never finished high school.
Mom and Grandma were always bickering. “Your daddy would roll over in his grave if he saw you
traipsing around town with all of those men,” Grandma had said on more than one occasion. She’d
begged Mom to set an example for Adam and me of a strong and proud single mother. “Only
then
will a
man respect you.”
Guess I’d internalized that lesson more than Mom had.
Despite Grandma and Mom being different as night and day, when Grandma got sick, Mom was as
wrecked as I’d ever seen her. She had planned on moving Grandma into our home while she went
through chemo, but the cancer took her pretty quickly.
Now I flipped through a gossip magazine, all the while considering whether or not I could sleep in
my own bed again. I had brought my pillow and blanket out to the couch and made sure I had the
sharpest knife from the kitchen in view on my counter.
Despite the landlord placing motion sensor lighting near the main door and a locksmith drilling
more secure clasps onto my windows, the shadows moving across those blinds in my bedroom made my
stomach lurch. Last night, a man with the intent of robbing or raping chose my window to climb through. And had
Bennett not shown up, my day would have looked starkly different. I’d be a robbed or raped or dead
woman because I had frozen on my bed, unable to move.
I pulled out my phone and considered texting Rob and asking him to sleep over. Rob had never
slept all the way through the night in my bed because I never allowed him to, but maybe after sex he’d
agree to stay on the couch.
I’d tell him I was a little spooked, and he’d understand because he was a guy and probably liked
having a female depend on him. He’d be shocked because never once had I relied on him for anything
except my own orgasm.
But it might turn him on a little—or send him packing. It was not part of our arrangement, that was
for sure.
My fingers hovered over the keys and finally I gave in.
Me: Hey, Rob, have anything going on tonight?
Rob: Nothing. Want to hook up? I can be over in thirty.
My fingers froze, considering whether I truly wanted to cross over into that realm with him. He
wasn’t my protector or even my friend. Just my fuck buddy.
A knock on my door startled me, and my phone slipped from my fingers, dropping to the couch.
When I looked through the peephole and saw it was Bennett, my heart strained against my rib cage.
He was wearing the same clothes I had seen him in that morning, but his shirt was more wrinkled and
his hair more messy.
I opened the door before realizing how I was dressed again. Same sleep shorts as last night, but a
pink tank top this time. And still no bra.
Bennett’s eyes gave me a once-over before landing squarely on my breasts, and I swear my nipples
rose to greet him. He swallowed roughly before saying, “Um, hi. I just got home and I thought . . .”
He just stood there staring at me, like he was debating with himself. “What?” I found I was panting at the sight of him. Hoping, praying the words I wanted to hear
would come out of his mouth.
“Um, want some company again tonight?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looked down at his feet,
and it was so damn sexy. “I just figured . . . if it were my mom, she’d want me to check on her for a
couple more days.”
My eyes closed in relief as I released the breath I was holding. I could even overlook the fact that
he’d just compared me to his mom. Talk about mixed signals. But I wasn’t faring much better in that
department.
“Are you still nervous about sleeping here?” His voice was earnest, like he hoped I’d say yes.
I could tell him
no
to prove how strong I was, but my resolve was crumbling fast. My fingers were
trembling on the doorknob because I wanted his company so damn badly.
“N . . . not sure.”
“Want to watch a movie upstairs and sleep over again?”
My heart flapped and wavered. This boy was going to be the death of me.
He reached out his hand for me. “No questions asked?”
I nodded. “Just let me put on some clothes and I’ll be right up.”
He looked down at my bare legs and swallowed. “Good idea.”
I closed the door and gulped down my hesitation.
No questions asked,
he’d said. I threw on
sweatshorts and a t-shirt over my tank. I looked in the mirror and fixed my raccoon eyes a bit. Then I
threw on some lip gloss for good measure.
When Bennett pulled open his door I noticed he’d cleared off his couch and had taken some things
out of boxes. His flat-screen TV and Xbox were on a walnut and glass stand, and an open box of DVDs
lay directly beneath.
“Your pick,” he said, motioning toward the television and the movies piled high. “I’ll even agree to
finding a chick flick on TV—anything to make you feel comfortable tonight.” I would be anything but comfortable. All of my senses were heightened around him. His lips
looked yummy enough to eat. His hair was begging for my fingers to glide through it. But I needed to
remember that this was probably a friendship thing. Maybe we
could
be buddies.
“I’m not a chick flick kind of gal.”
He smirked. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
His box of DVDs was an eclectic mix of blockbusters and independent films, a few comedies, and
even a couple of romances.
I pulled out the
Lord of the Rings
boxed set. “Now
this
I can do.”
“Seriously?” His eyes lit up at my revelation.
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Which is your favorite?” His question came out as sort of a test, like he didn’t believe I could be
into Tolkien and fantasy.
“
The Two Towers
.”
His brown eyes sparkled like they contained flecks of gold. “Mine, too.”
“Let’s
do
it then,” I said.
Bennett’s eyes became dark and hooded, causing my breathing to escalate.
We settled in on the couch with some distance between us. My phone vibrated with a text message
and it occurred to me that I had left Rob hanging downstairs.
Shit.
Rob: I guess this means no about tonight?
I quickly typed back.
Me: Sorry, friend stopped over, catch up with you later.
Bennett looked at me curiously. “Boyfriend?”
“No. I told you I don’t do boyfriends.”
His eyes were a bit guarded. “Someone who
hopes
to be your boyfriend?”
I figured I’d go for honesty. “Nah, we’re more like friends with benefits.” The look of shock on his face was evident before it crossed over to something else that looked a
little like jealousy. Or maybe it was just curiosity.
“C’mon, you can’t tell me you haven’t had your share of those kinds of nights.”
He cleared his throat while I waited for him to say something. Anything. But he didn’t.
“You’re a hot guy, Bennett.” I tossed up my hands. “I’m sure plenty of girls throw themselves at
you.”
His face quirked into a lopsided grin. “You think I’m hot?”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“The answer to your question is no, I haven’t.”
I had to pick my jaw up off the ground. I had expected him to say something like
Sure, but that was
in the past. Now I want a commitment
, or . . . something.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve made out with my share of girls. I’m only
