He aggressively gets up and grabs his helmet, but when he opens my bedroom door to leave, he stops dead in his tracks.
My father stares at him on the other side of the door, his eyes brimming with rage. My heart drops. Oh, God. I hope he doesn’t think the worst, especially after the other night.
“Ben, what the hell are you doing here this time of night? We gave you a key in case of emergencies, not to do late night visits. I expected more out of you,” my dad fumes, standing with his hands on his hips, his nostrils flaring.
Ben’s knuckles tighten on his helmet. I didn’t know they gave him a key. When did they do that? Are my parents close to Ben behind my back?
“I’m sorry, sir. I wanted to talk to Char about something, but I didn’t want to do it over the phone. Ipromise nothing disrespectful happened under your roof. I came with good intentions.”
My dad’s hardened expression softens minutely because he knows Ben’s a good guy and is good on his word.
I, on the other hand, am still fuming. Nothing disrespectful, my ass. He was being a dick.
“Next time call instead or come over at a decent hour. Okay? I do not want to have this conversation with you a second time.”
That’s his dismissal, and we both know it.
Without looking back, Ben walks out of the room, leaving me cold, alone and hurt from the whiplash of emotions during that entire encounter. The sound of his motorcycle starting up outside cuts me like a knife as my dad surveys me and the room.
“Sorry, Dad. He showed up and wanted to talk. I should’ve let you know he was here.”
But inside, I don’t care that I didn’t let my father know. I only apologize because I know he expects one. I liked the secret encounter at first. If things had gone differently and Ben pursued me, I would’ve never let my dad know he’d been here. I’m eighteen and it’s my life. I’m allowed to keep my own secrets and lose some of my innocence…right? Ugh. One of these days I’ll fully convince myself I’m allowed to be independent.
He puts on a forced smile and nods. “Make sure that you do.”
And with that last word, he walks off.
My jaw clenches. That was rude. I’m getting sick of everyone treating me like a disobedient child. I shut the door, harder than I need to, and climb into bed, my head spinning from the entire day’s events.
Chapter Nine.
I toss and turn all night, moving in between sleeping and waking from either being turned on at the thought of Ben, making me want to spend some quality time with the biker boy to satisfy that desire or angry at him and my father. At least I have no plans for the day until Jared’s party so I can rot in bed if I want to.
Ugh, Jared’s party. I was looking forward to it yesterday until Ben’s comment. Now the thought of going makes me feel guilty, which is absurd because it’s not wrong to go. Jared’s my friend and even if he does like me or if I end up liking him, it doesn’t matter.
It’s none of anyone's damn business, I stubbornly declare.
The dread of facing reality keeps me in bed until eleven, sulking and irritable. I hate that Ben holds the power to make me feel this way, completely ruining my mood and motivation.
“Ughhh…”
Uttering a groan, I sit up in bed and plant my feet on the hardwood, letting the coolness sink into my skin.
That’s it. Enough. I’m giving myself one more hour to sulk and then I’m going to buck up and get excited for the graduation party.
The rest of the day drags by, the excitement never coming like I hoped. Sick of the stuck mood, I go on a run to clear my head and then join Mom for lunch while Dad works at some writer’s conference. Apparently, he talked to Mom last night about Ben being over, and he wasnothappy.
Apparently it took her hours to calm him down and convince him not to ground me this entire weekend nor ban Ben from the house.
“Ban him from the house? Isn’t that a bit excessive?” I scoff, raising my eyebrow.
“Honey, it was one in the morning, and he snuck into your room. Can you blame him? Ben should’ve known better.”
“It’s not like we were doing anything. He wanted to talk to me about something, but he wanted to do it in person. I don’t see the big deal.”
“And why couldn’t he have come over during normal hours to have that conversation? Don’t be so naive, honey.”
Anger bubbles in the pit of my stomach, fit to burst. If one more person speaks to me in this condescending tone, I swear I’m going to lose it.
