Remember Me (5 page)

Seeing
the anger flash through her eyes, Ben fully expected a justified torrent of
verbal abuse to come his way, but Catlin was not about to let him suffer
another of her tantrums. One outburst in an evening was enough for anyone,
especially if that person had been unfortunate enough to have encountered her
without make-up on!

“I
didn’t mean to pry,” he offered up in defence, “but once I’d begun I couldn’t
put them down.” Catlin sat on the edge of the desk.

“It’s
fine. What did you make of them?”

“There
are some pretty powerful thoughts in those pages.”

“Well
they are the product of a twisted personality.”

“They’re
not. They’re eye opening. Have you published any of them?”

“No
way. My poems are not for general viewing. They are kind of personal and
therefore written purely for my benefit.” Ben held the small hard-backed
notebook out for her to take. “And for selected friends to muse over on
occasions.”

Their
rift, such as it was, was mended and while Catlin ate her considerably over
done burger, Ben was more than content to carry on reading from the private
works no-one besides the two of them had or ever would get to look on. When she
had finished, they went to the sofa, gradually inching their way closer
together until they were snuggled up at one end of it.  Catlin’s head rested lightly
on his chest while she listened to Ben read aloud his favourite lines from the
newly uncovered treasury of tales, his free arm draped around her shoulders,
his fingers idly twisting a strand of her hair. She had always held her poor
excuse of an attempt at poetry to be third rate at the best, their less than
light hearted themes being on the darker side of things. Yet as Ben took the
words from the page he transformed them into something haunting but ultimately
beautiful, giving them a life of their own and by the time he announced that he
should be going, Catlin’s own rating of them had improved greatly.

“Do
you have far to go?” she asked, reluctantly showing him to the door of the
apartment. “I can give you a lift if you need one.”

“It’s
not far at all. Hardly a stone’s throw.” With one of them on either side of the
doorway, there was an awkward silence, neither quite sure of how the evening
should end and both determined not to cross some undefined line.

“Tonight
was great. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I last enjoyed someone’s
company so much.”

“Me
too,” Catlin answered shyly. “Who’d have thought you could find so much to
discuss with an intruder!” The tension eased as they laughed but then they were
again faced with the dilemma of saying farewell.

“I
had really better be going otherwise at this rate we’ll be stood here come
morning.”

“I
can think of worse ways to spend a night.”

“Me
too, but nonetheless…”

“Yes,
nonetheless.” Ben grinned at her crookedly.

“Goodnight
Cate.” No-one had shortened her name to ‘Cate’ before. It was generally ‘Cat’
or plain ‘Catlin’. She liked Cate. She especially liked how it sounded when
he
said it.

“Goodnight
Ben.”

Any
lingering doubts as to whether Ben viewed her as nothing more than a friend
were wiped out of existence when, to seal their farewells, Ben took and kissed
Catlin’s hand. It was old school, a scene straight out of the movies but that
did not make it any the less romantic.

“I’ll
be seeing you soon,” he promised before releasing her hand from his and walking
off down the hallway. Catlin closed the door, locked it then fell back against
it, raising the same hand he had held to his lips up to hers. Was she being
stupid for considering, however slightly, that such a thing could be possible?
Could a man like that genuinely be interested in a girl such as her, want to
date her and, maybe one day, come to love her? It was a billion to one shot but
that was enough to cause the tiny flicker of hope which glowed within her to
ignite.

Catlin
twirled about with sheer exhilaration, dropping down into the seat she and Ben
had been sharing with a whoop of delight. She allowed herself to sink down into
the cushions which held his warmth despite his having departed and imagined it
was him and not the soft furnishing she was lying against. They were so vivid,
so lifelike the thoughts she had of him that Catlin could have easily believed
his arms were around her still, that his fingers were entwined with her own or
played softly with her hair. They might have been nothing more than a flight of
fancy, but such thoughts were a comfort to Cate and lost in the rapture of the
illusion of having Ben at her side, she quickly fell asleep.

Weeks
passed by in this state of contentment. Their time together was spent either
out hiking in the hills or curled up in the apartment, anywhere where they
could be alone – that was how they liked it, just the two of them. Nothing else
mattered much, not work, the world or any of the mad, bizarre stuff that went
on in it. Ben would arrive at Catlin’s door most evenings and stay there until
late. They’d talk, read and discuss Cate’s work. She had tried to find out
several times what Ben did for a living, but she struggled to get a straight
answer from him on the topic.

She
concluded after a time that she had been on the right tracks in assuming him to
be involved in the same industry she had fallen into. He certainly had some
knowledge of the inside workings of the studios and she wondered if he had come
to the city looking for his big break and not yet having secured a permanent
job was embarrassed to admit his position. That would explain how it was he was
always able to join her when she was free from the constraints of her work. As
it was, she often had to spend hours of an evening working, but Ben didn’t seem
to mind and was quite content to sit and watch her on those occasions and why,
despite his saying he was just visiting, he had no obvious intention of going
back home, wherever that was. Eventually she stopped asking. He’d tell her when
he’d been successful.

Upon
making this assumption, Catlin’s new positive outlook was knocked aside by her
own insecure one. Might that not be the true cause of his so-called interest in
her – he was looking for a way into the big league and she was an easy route to
that goal. She was a small cog in the vast entertainment machine, but she was a
part of it. The lapse was brief for Ben looked to be out to do the exact
opposite. If she had any sort of publicity event to attend or signing to go to,
though she asked him if he’d like to go with her, Ben refused the offer. If
nothing else, she could rely on the fact he was not using her, on that level at
least. It was a good thing he was not into the whole party circuit for they
were not one of Catlin’s favourite past times and whenever she could wangle it,
she would get out any that weren’t absolutely essential. She found Ben’s
companionship infinitely more inspiring than a room of people who either didn’t
know or care who she was and did not understand her work.

It
had been six weeks since their fateful meeting on the roof and while their
relationship had grown deeper on an intellectual and emotional level nothing
much had changed physically. Catlin had not found herself in such a situation before–
where a man had wanted to get to know her before jumping into bed. Her previous
boyfriends, once they had seen past the flawed features and obtained a date
with her had proceeded to try and get her clothes off as fast as they could.
Besides, why rush? The smallest contact with Ben was more exciting than any
serious physicality with those who had gone before combined. They could spend
entire evenings lying in each other’s arms without speaking a single word while
being able to understand the thoughts and feelings of the other perfectly. If
Heaven existed on Earth it was there in the warmth of his arms. Was this what people
meant when they spoke of Soul Mates? Ben too seemed more than content to take
things slowly. It struck Catlin that, like her, he might have been betrayed by
a former lover and did not want to rush blindly into a passionate affair,
instead wanting to see if this new relationship he had embarked on had a better
chance of surviving long term.

“You’ve
not written any poetry for a while, have you?” Catlin, who was dreamily
twiddling with the open button on the front of Ben’s shirt, could not deny it.

“No.
I’ve not been visited by that Muse of the Shadows for a while. She appears to
have found some other soul to latch onto, depriving me of the source for them.
Not that I mind in the slightest. It’s nice to have a positive outlook for a
change.”

“Would
you care to expand on that less than informative statement?” Catlin rolled onto
her side and sat up slightly, leaning over Ben to take a drink from her glass
which was on the table next to him.

“It’s
hard to put into words. I suppose, if I’m honest, I tended to write them at the
stages of my life where things were either going badly or I’d been given a kick
in the teeth. It was the one way I had of expressing my feelings and letting my
frustrations or hurt out. Of late things just haven’t looked as worthless or as
without hope as they used to.”

Ben’s
hold around her waist tightened, drawing the curves of their bodies in
together.

“And
is there a specific cause for this shift towards optimism?” A willing captive,
Catlin’s heart beat hard and fast.

“Without
a doubt.” She lowered her face towards his, whispering in his ear, “I credit it
to the extra dose of Vitamin C I’ve been taking.”

“You
little…” Ben grabbed her, wrestling Catlin back down onto the sofa, dodging the
blows she made with the cushion in feigned defence. “It’s no use hiding behind
velveteen barricades,” he declared triumphantly, snatching the padded shield
away and trapping her under him. “As the victor I demand total and
unconditional submission to my demands.”

“Not
bloody likely!” Catlin cried, doing her best to retrieve a second cushion from
under her, but with Ben straddling her it was an impossible manoeuver.

Their
frivolity ceased as, while in the midst of their struggle for control over the
furnishings, their stares locked in a way they had never had before, looking
for that clear, unmistakable sign they each desperately wanted to see. Catlin
thought her heart would rupture from the tide of adrenaline which had rushed into
it. Her breathing was so short and shallow she became light headed as Ben
cupped her face in his hands, tracing the outline of her lips with his thumb
and down her neck and onto her décolleté. She shivered with excitement as, from
the trembling of his fingers, she sensed his emotions were as heightened as her
own.

“I
think it’s fair to warn you that, despite my best intentions, I can’t resist it
any longer. Cate, I just have to kiss you.” Catlin’s temperature rose further
and she flicked her gaze away from his to keep her face from colouring, but in
less than a second they were irresistibly drawn back.

“About
time too.” Ben saw the coy smile that creased the corners of her mouth, could
feel her pulse as strongly as if it had been his heart that raced in
anticipation, and he gave way to the impulse which had been threatening to
overcome him for weeks, leaning in and allowing his mouth to seek hers.

As
their lips met, every inch of Catlin’s body was jerked to life by a deep and
uncontrollable urge for this man to consume each fibre of her being, to utterly
overpower and claim her for his own. His kiss was tender and soft, but she was
aware that, like her, Ben was fighting against a barely repressible desire to
surrender to the passions which throbbed within him and not until he was
assured of her willingness did his tongue seek out hers and his embrace become
more intense and insistent. The room and the rest of the world melted away and
to Ben and Cate it was as if they were the last two people left on the planet.
Had the three minute warning sounded neither would have minded, they were in
the one and only place they wanted to be. As he broke away Catlin was possessed
by shockingly violent urge to drag him back down on top of her, the sensation
of his masculine form pressing down against her having unleashed a series of
cravings she’d never expected to feel again, and she had to fight the
temptation to rip his clothes off him.

With
every ounce of restraint she could summon she was able to regain control of
herself and hoping Ben had not read her less than secret thoughts, she decided
a diversion was the best method of defence.

“What
took you so long?” she was able to say, though her heart was thumping so wildly
she was amazed she could speak at all. Ben might have not been aware of
Catlin’s raging passions, but he was unable to ignore his own rising
temperature. He had wanted to take Catlin and kiss her for weeks, but something
held him back. He had tried to convince himself that he was being careful, not
wanting to hurt the girl who had suffered so much at the hands of men already.
When that did not justify his actions he had thought it to be as a means of
self-defence. He had been betrayed by a woman before and had no intention of
letting it happen again, but he could not fool himself there either. There was
more to it than that. He was afraid. Afraid that once he allowed himself to
give into his yearnings he would be unable to maintain control. That he would find
it impossible to keep from satisfying the ache which throbbed within him whenever
Catlin came close to him.

“I
wanted to be sure,” he choked, his own words as shaky as Catlin’s.

“Sure
of what?”

Ben
decided not to lay the blame at anyone’s door but his own. Catlin was insecure
as it was without him giving her cause to think he doubted her affections and
put her under more pressure.

“Of
myself. I didn’t want to start anything with you until I was certain I was
going to be hanging around. You deserved better than that. I’m sure you’re not
so naïve as to think you’re the only woman I’ve been involved with.” Catlin
feigned shock, glad to find an outlet for the frustrated energies than had
flooded her veins.

“You
mean, I’m not you’re first?”

Ben
grinned, his handsome looks stealing her senses away again.

“No,
regrettably not, but you are the first in a while. The last woman, let’s just
say she blew my world apart and I had to be certain I had moved on and wouldn’t
bring her baggage into our relationship.”

“And
you’re certain of that now?” Ben slid his hand underneath Catlin, intending to
find her waist but allowing his fingers to work down to the curve of her
bottom.

“More
than certain,” and he kissed her again.

The
illusion was shattered by the ringing of the phone and it all came flooding
back, but neither of them wanted to get up and answer it. They remained where
they were, watching, holding each other. It would have been impossible for
Catlin to get up even if she had wanted to – her breath had been stolen away
and she was not sure if it she would ever find it again. The phone persisted
with its interruption.

“Do
you think you’d better get that?” Ben said with a nod in the phone’s direction.

“Yes,”
Catlin replied but neither she nor Ben made any attempt to pick up the receiver.

“It
might be important, this late at night.”

“Maybe,
but I doubt it. Leave it. They’ll ring off soon enough.” But they didn’t and
the noisy gadget continued to make its presence known.

“Damn
it!” Catlin cursed, working her way out from under Ben, springing to her feet
and ripping the handset out of its cradle.

“Hello?”

The
phone, though it took the brunt of her temper, was not the cause for Catlin’s
rage. Any interruption would have incurred a similar wrath had it popped up at
that instant. The kiss had been unplanned though not unwelcome, but had it been
a mistake, one Ben was already regretting? She listened with closed ears to her
agent, taking in next to nothing of the conversation. She heard him mention
something about a party where her presence was not so much required as demanded
and to make sure she remembered her meeting the next day. The meeting was bad
enough, but the party was a nightmare made real. She hated those sorts of
gatherings - an evening surrounded by brilliant-white grins, fake tan, glitz
and glamour. She fitted in at them about as much as a did turnip in a fruit
salad.

Having
her back to the room, Catlin did not see Ben get up and come up behind her or
become aware of his joining her until his arms were wrapped around her and he
nuzzled her neck. She allowed her head to tilt back and rest against him. She
had her answer and whatever else in her life was make-believe, at least what
they had was undeniably real.