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“Tell me.”
“No one else was hurt. It was just you.”
“So it wasn’t a car accident?”
His thumb stalled. “Is that what you’re worrying about in there?” he asked, moving his hand from my neck to tap the side of my head.
I hummed in agreement, then wrinkled my nose. “I can’t remember what bread tastes like.”
He laughed.
I scowled. “That’s not funny, Ben.”
Cupping the back of my head, he leaned in, kissing my forehead. I sighed, and his lips stilled against my skin.
“What?” I worried, feeling the change in him. Whatever it was made my stomach clench. “Ben?” I worried, my grip sliding from his forearm to his wrist. “What’s the matter?”
Oh God, I did kill someone. I killed them.
He jerked back, mismatched eyes wide. “You didn’t kill anyone.”
“Then why are you suddenly acting weird?” I said, not even worried that I spoke my thoughts aloud. Hell, clearly, I’d forgotten how to work my mouth too.
The look in his eyes shifted as he sat farther back. “I was thinking about how easily that became a habit.”
I blinked. “What?”
The side of his mouth tipped up. “Kissing your forehead,” he said quietly. “It’s second nature.”
My stomach flipped. “Did you not do it… before?”
His eyes whipped up. “Uh, yeah. Of course.”
I nodded, lowering my gaze. “I like it.” Then I whispered, “You make me feel safe.”
He groaned, pulling me into his body and enclosing me in his embrace. “You are safe with me, sweetheart,” he said above my head. “I swear everything I do is for you.”
“So about the accident…” I reminded.
“It wasn’t a car accident,” he said, still holding me. “That dinosaur you drive is gonna outlive us all.”
A vision of an old silver Mazda flashed into my head. Gasping, I ripped back from his hold, eyes wide.
“Whoa,” he cautioned, reaching for me.
My hands slapped onto his arms. “I remember!”
I expected him to light up, to be as thrilled as me. But a mask of wariness dropped over his boyish features. “You remember?”
My nod was so enthusiastic the stitches in my head tugged and a twinge of pain tried to ruin the excitement.
“I drive a Mazda, right? It’s old and silver.”
“Well, the color is questionable. You’d have to actually wash it for me to see the true color,” Ben mused.
I smacked him in the chest. “That was so mean!”
“I’m not the one who never washes my car.”
