AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Here come with me.” I guide him around the bed and into the bathroom. “We’re at the sink. Just… um… bend forward… wait… step back… Perfect.”
Bracing one hand on the counter and the other at my hip, he hangs his head low while I brush drywall from his hair.
“We’ve got this. Just a minute more, okay?” There’s a lot in here. And that’s all I’m thinking about. Not the fact that my fingers are in his hair. That even with all this crap in it, it’s still thick and soft. Or that the last time I had my fingers in it, he was inside me.
“Yeah.” He heaves a breath that makes his impossibly wide back even wider. “I’m such a tool.”
I pause. Then, picking the last of the chunks out, tell him the truth. “I mean, in the last five minutes, you’ve offered up some solid evidence to support that.”
He huffs a low laugh, because that’s what he does. First and loudest, he laughs at himself. But I’ve known him long enough, seen the sides he doesn’t always share with everyone, to understand part of that is because it’s easier to laugh with someone than to have them laugh at you.
Turning on the faucet, I dampen a hand towel. “Up.”
He straightens and faces me. Eyes still closed, hand still at my side, he waits as I wipe away the plaster from his lashes and brows.
“But you’re more than a few moments of rash behavior.” I run the cloth over his forehead and across his cheekbones. “To me, you’re always going to be the guy with the biggest heart, the most creative plan, and the limitless generosity for the people you love. You’re the best guy I know.”
Above me, Ben’s eyes open, meeting mine.
I stop, the towel coming to rest at the hard edge of his jaw.
His brows draw down as he stares at me. “You’re the only one who sees me that way.”
“Not possible,” I whisper, shaking my head because it’s so obvious to me, I don’t know how anyone could miss it.
The corner of his mouth lifts the barest degree.
God, he’s gorgeous. And suddenly I’m aware of just how closely we’re standing. Of my hand at his face and his at my waist. Of the slight pressure of his fingers and the rise and fall of his chest. How the second I forget to intentionally hold myself back, the space between us feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. Pulling us in. Closer.
Those blue eyes darken.
Closer.
My heart beats heavy. Loud enough I feel like it’s echoing through the room.
Clo—
Wait.
I freeze, realizing that rhythmic bu-bump, bu-bump isn’t my heart at all. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the sound of a bed hitting the wall. In the apartment above ours. Where Piper and Bowie live.
“Ooooh, okay. Now I get it.”
Ben blinks, a furrow digging between his eyes. His fingers flex again almost like he doesn’t want to let go. “You get what?”
Bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump.
Recognition.
I make a face, hoping Ben won’t fly off the handle again. But he just takes a step back. My hand falls away from his cheek and his from my waist, breaking that closed-circuit connection. Which is probably a good thing.
If I keep saying it, maybe I’ll believe it. Or maybe not, because I’ve been saying it for months, and here we are.
From where we’re standing in the bathroom, we angle our heads together to peek out into his bedroom. Another clump of plaster drops with the next bu-bump, and Ben’s shoulders droop.
“I’ll clean it up. Patch it.” He circles a hand in the air, looking guilty. “Sorry about this.”
He’s embarrassed. And exhausted. And probably a little traumatized hearing his best friend pounding his little sister into the mattress. Catching his hand in mine, I give it a light squeeze. “Hey, I was just wrapping something up for work. But it’s late. We should both get some sleep.”
