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I scowled at him, and he just blinked at me. I’d come hoping for a real conversation. I would shout at him all the ways he’d been a complete fucking jerk to me before we got to the serious talk. But there he was, intoxicated. Talking to him like this wouldn’t be worth the trip, and it only angered me more.

Why the fuck did I bother to come here?

I turned my back to leave. I wanted to tell him to try looking for me when he got sober, but my lips were pressed flat together, and the words wouldn’t come out.

“Ginger, wait!”

I ignored his voice when he called out to me until I heard a loud thump hit the floor and seats being pushed roughly. I turned around, my eyes widening in surprise to see Ben lying face down on the floor. Did he trip?

“Ben, are you okay?” I asked, instinctively turning back to check on him.

He was laying there, too still, and I caught his shoulder and tried to roll him over, so his face wasn’t pressed to the floor. He was heavy, though, and I wasn’t having much luck until a waiter showed up to help me. I glanced at Dan, who was still seated at the bar, but he had his head down on his arms, and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

“Can you help me take him upstairs?” I asked the waiter. “And you can let Scarlett know about Dan; she’ll come pick him up.”

“Sure. Here, get on his other side.”

He caught one of Ben’s arm and pulled him up, while I took the other arms. Then we both threw the arm we had a hold on across our shoulders, and we started the slow trip to his room. Scarlett saw us on the way to the elevator and let out an annoyed sound.

“Thank you for this,” she yelled at us. “Is Dan still in there?”

“He’s asleep at the bar,” I called back.

“All right. I’ll take care of him. His room is on the fourth floor.”

“I know where it is,” the waiter said.

It made me wonder just how many times Ben had done this.

We made it to his room, and the waiter helped me carry him all the way to his bed. Once we had Ben down, he gave me the keycard he’d taken from Ben’s pocket and left us alone.

I stood there for a moment, looking down at Ben. I’d only had a glance before, so I took the chance to stare for as long as I wanted. He hadn't changed much, though I wasn’t sure if it was just my imagination that his face looked a little haggard.

After a few moments, though, I decided I needed to head home. I didn’t realize I’d sat down on the bed next to him, and I stood up to leave. Only, he caught my wrist, and I turned to him in surprise. His eyes were just barely open and focused on me.

“Don’t go,” he said, his voice quiet. “Please, Ginger.”

“You need to sleep,” I pointed out. “And I need to be getting home.”

I tugged, but he wouldn’t release my wrist.

He shook his head. “Then stay until I wake up. Please.”

Maybe it was the please, but I let out a sigh and nodded. “Fine. But, I’ll be staying on the couch. So let me go.”

It took a minute, but his eyes slid closed and his hold on my wrist released. I watched him a while longer, then made my way over to his couch. I called Mom to let her know that I might be a while, and to make arrangements for Fern. As I hung up the phone, I wondered if I could even fall asleep with him only some feet away. A nap would do me good.

Chapter Five

Ben

“Ugh.”

It was morning, but I wasn’t snapping up in attention when I woke up. Instead, my mind and body felt heavy, and I rolled over in bed, trying to get comfortable so I could fall asleep and get back to my wonderful dream. This was why I drank, I didn’t think too much while I was drunk, and I didn’t wake up ready to be attacked.

That dream though…where I saw Ginger, and she was talking to me. She was still glaring, but it wasn’t the same dismissal I’d gotten when I went to her place. And then, after that, where she wasn’t even glaring. That had to have been a dream, right? Because there was no way Ginger would have been in my room last night.

I rolled around in bed for a few more minutes, then frowned when I figured I wouldn’t be falling back asleep. I groaned as I rose up, throwing a hand up to hold my head.

“Shit.” The part of drinking that I didn’t like. The hangover, and feeling so disoriented when I did wake up.

I slid out of bed and went to the bathroom. I had some meds in the cabinet behind the mirror, and I took a couple Tylenol with water from the sink. Then I stared at my reflection for a minute. My eyes were bloodshot and my coloring was a little pale. I looked terrible. So I stripped off my clothes and got under the shower for a quick wash.

When I got out, I felt a little more myself, and I left my bedroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, another tossed over my shoulder as I rubbed my hair dry. But then, I froze, when I caught sight of the couch.

Ginger.

She was sleeping on my couch, just like she’d said she would in my so-called dream from last night. Her being there meant it wasn’t a dream, though, right? And I let her see me drunk.

Dammit!

My heart was starting to pick up speed, and I looked down at myself with a wince. I couldn’t let her see me half naked. I’d humiliated myself enough last night. So I tiptoed back to my room and changed into better clothes, then went to the kitchen, pausing to glance down at Ginger, to make breakfast for the two of us. I couldn’t make much, but I could at least fry eggs and toast some bread.

She got up while I was in the middle of cooking, and I smiled to myself as I listened to her moving around. Usually, it was just me in the apartment. Hearing someone else, and knowing that person was Ginger, made my heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” she said.

She was at the door into the little kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb. I looked up to see her yawn and rub her eye, with her hair all messed up from sleep. Her voice was still rough from sleep, and she was still in yesterday’s clothes, all wrinkled.

It was the most beautiful sight I’d seen in a while.

“Hey, there,” I said sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m sorry about last night; I didn’t mean to be a bother. But I am happy that you stayed.”

She sighed and frowned at me. “Well, you didn’t deserve it. But you were heavy, and I was tired.”

“No, you’re right,” I muttered, ignoring her excuse. “I didn’t deserve it, which is why when I woke up, I thought I dreamed the whole thing.”

Her eyes were wide as they stared at me in surprise. I gave a self-conscious laugh, but of course, I knew. There were a lot of things I desired from Ginger that I didn’t deserve because of how I treated her. It would be only right if she kicked me off to the curb so that she’d stayed anyway was a good sign for me. That just maybe, I might have a chance with this girl that I never stopped loving.

We sat down to breakfast at my little dining table, with a carton of orange juice in the middle of the table between us and two glasses.

“Sorry I don’t have any coffee. I don’t drink it.”

“It’s fine,” Ginger said, waving me off. “I can just buy some when I head out later.”

At the reminder that she would be leaving, my heart squeezed uncomfortably in my chest. But I couldn’t ask for more from her, of course, she could leave whenever she wanted to. Being so unhappy about it was m

y problem, not hers.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

Ginger stopped eating and looked up at me. “What?”

I grimaced. I’d had this whole speech prepared, just in case she decided to talk to me, and I’d just ruined it. But because I’d already started, I couldn’t just stop.

“When I decided to leave,” I explained. “I was entirely selfish back then, and I never got to apologize to you before I left. You’d told me that you could be pregnant, and my first thought was to run. I’m sorry that I never stuck around to find out whether it was true or not, and left you to deal with that on your own.”

In the middle of my speech, I lost some confidence and ended up staring down instead of looking right at her. She didn’t give an immediate reply, and there were a few minutes of silence between us. I was hunched over the table, with my hands clasped tightly underneath it where she couldn’t see and realize just how anxious I was.

“Why did you come yesterday?” she asked.

My head shot up. “What?”

“To the salon. Why did you come? What did you come to say? I’m ready to hear it, whatever it is.”

She had her arms crossed over her chest, but while the position was defensive, nothing in her expression gave me a clue as to how she was feeling.

I bit down on my lip. “I came to say I was sorry. I know…that it’s been months since I got back. But I’ve been a coward in that entire time, I just…didn’t know how to face you.”

“You faced me just fine yesterday,” she pointed out.

I let out a small, grim laugh, and dropped my head so she wouldn’t catch the look on my face.

“I got discharged from the Navy, Ginger. There wasn’t even the option of me staying longer because psychologically, I was not okay to continue my service, not that I would have wanted to stay, anyway. I saw…so many horrors out there, Ginger. When I came out, I wasn’t the same as the man that left.” I glanced up tentatively to meet her gaze. “I’ve…changed. But I just wanted to try with us. Try and be better, if you’ll allow me to be. Because this time, I’m going to be there for you and not run away.”

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