Page 171 of Until the Last Star Fades

“YES!” Riley flinched at her own outburst. “I mean…yeah, that would be great.” More than great.

He laughed, pressing a smiley kiss to her mouth, and let her go. “I’ll call a cab.”

Riley watched him on his phone, chatting with the dispatcher. He looked happy, relaxed—his old self again. I owe Shannon so much. She removed the plastic on her daisies and kneeled down. “Thank you…for sending him to me,” she whispered, setting her flowers beside Ben’s. “I promise Ben will never be alone again.”

Seventy-One

Riley and Ben achieved a new record—within seconds of slamming the door of Spencer’s tiny flat, they were naked and lip-locked and tangled in each other on his unmade single bed. While a tour of his London home would’ve been nice, Riley didn’t care. All she wanted to see was Ben liberated from his boxer briefs. After their hour-long taxi/train/Underground journey (where their amorous acrobatics were limited to a full-on snog and under-the-parka, over-the-clothes touching), her self-control had been pushed to its limits on the Victoria line.

Ben didn’t leave the Underground unruffled, either. Despite making it his mission to tease Riley into a pent-up frenzy, Ben’s desire for his girlfriend got the better of him—he exited the Tube station carrying his backpack in front of his crotch.

Behind closed doors, the promise of a slow, sensuous reunion dissolved into a desperate quickie of open mouths, arching hips, and fisted bedsheets. In the heady aftermath, Ben’s small room looked like it had been ransacked: a once-orderly stack of books lay in a pile of literary rubble, discarded clothes were scattered everywhere, and the bedframe’s incessant banging knocked a framed photo of Riley off the wall to the threadbare carpet. Even his small floor lamp was upended.

Happy? Euphoric? Sex drunk?! Yes, THAT’S how I feel! I’ve missed him, how I feel with him. Lightheaded and breathless, Riley flopped backward onto the crumpled sheets and discovered why Ben always slept on the right side of the mattress. “Oww!”

He looked over his shoulder, the damp sheen of exertion glistening on his back. “Careful now, Riles. I told you, this mattress bites.” He laughed as he dropped the used condom in his empty bedside bin.

Not even a painful spring could deflate Riley’s orgasmic high. Taking delight in Ben’s toned backside, she raised an eyebrow and hugged herself, the bliss of finally having skin-against-skin sex after five months apart still coursing through her body. “Benjamin,” she purred. “Come back here.”

Ben snickered, searching for his underwear. “If you want a nice home-cooked supper tonight and more of this”—he waved his hands over his body like it was a prize on a TV game show—“you gotta let me pop to the shops for groceries and more condoms.”

“Didn’t that restroom vending machine give you more than one?”

“Nope. Stingy fucker.” Ben leaned over, setting the broken floor lamp back onto its feet.

Watching him at the end of the bed, Riley ached for the weight of him moving over her again. “Don’t go yet. Kiss me—now.” She eased up on her elbows, daring him to come back.

Ben’s eyes swept over her pale skin, bathed in a sliver of streetlight, creeping past his polyester curtains. “Bossy.” He laughed. “And that’s a compliment!” He climbed back onto the bed and lay between Riley’s thighs, leaving gentle kisses first, then warm licks and sucks, each teasing flick of his tongue pushing Riley’s hands farther into his hair.

Ben lifted his head, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Argh—you’re getting me all riled up again. Sorry, you’ll have to wait for more, missy!” He shifted up, pressing brief kisses along her chest and her neck, finally reaching her mouth. He smiled into a long, deep kiss as Riley’s hand slipped past the scar on his abdomen, curling around where he was eager and ready for another round.

With kisses and caresses, they spoke to each other in sighs, thankful their love was stronger than any ocean or secret conspiring to keep them apart.

Riley’s lips brushed Ben’s. “I think I’m going to like London—a lot!” They shared a chuckle as her finger traced the two hollow stars tattooed beneath the curve of his left collarbone. The beautiful sentiment from his mom’s gravestone tugged at her heart. Until the last star fades… “I used to think this tattoo was a tribute to astronomy or that crazy Equinox TV series you geek out about, but…it’s for your mom, isn’t it?”

He nodded, a wistfulness in his eyes. “Yeah. It’s me and her. This way, she’s always with me. I don’t get to the cemetery as much as I used to, only birthdays and Christmas, really.” He propped himself up on his elbow. “I want to make her proud. It’s why I’ve been working so hard with Love Bites—it feels like I’m doing it for her as much as me. I’ve even started taking orders for weddings.”

“No way!”

“Yeah! First one was before Christmas. A customer took my details and hired me to make brownie wedding favors. Then, three of her guests, called me up for three different corporate parties in the City. I ended up baking all night and rolled into Waterstones half asleep, but it was so worth it! Those jobs turned into more bookings and they just keep coming, mostly word of mouth, referrals. Riles, if demand keeps growing like this, I might be able to do Love Bites full-time, maybe get a small shop, even…”

Her hand flew up to meet her smile. “That would be perfect!”

“I know! And I’m doing everything by the books. I’ve met with a bloke at the bank, I drew up a proper business plan over Skype with Hunter, and Mo has been giving me advice. He started with one market stall five years ago, and now he’s got three stalls, two shops, and online sales, too! His son is a website wiz, so he’s been working on my new site. It goes live next month!”

“Ben, this is amazing! Can you…imagine what your mom would say?”

“Hmm, she might be a wee bit proud…and hopefully you are, too?” He raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Like you have to ask!” She planted a kiss on his forehead. “I wish I could’ve met her.”

“Oh, she would’ve loved you…and Maggie. I—oh!” Ben froze. “Just give me…” He rolled over and off the bed, his hand zeroing in on the envelope Maggie had sent over for his mom. It sat on a narrow shelf screwed to the wall. The a-ha record, two birthday cards, the Equinox Ten boxset, a much-loved stuffed turtle, and the swiped plastic gallbladder were the only other residents. “Maybe you can sorta meet her…” Envelope in hand, he sat back on the bed.

“But that’s my mom’s note—she wrote it to your mom.” Riley looked confused.

He pulled away a second envelope, stuck to the back of Maggie’s. “It sticks to everything. Mum sealed it with tape. She always went overboard—took me ten minutes to open a Christmas present once.” He flipped it over, placing it in her hand. “Here.”

For Benjamin. Riley stared at the swirly handwriting; its penmanship matched the B. Something tag on his pink suitcase. “What is it?”