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“You smell nice,” I tell him. His smile dances with amusement. “Why are you back?”
Ben pauses.
I’d seen him leaving with Jamie over an hour ago, just after I’d spotted him tucked away in the corner. His eyes had scanned the room before he ducked into the street to call his driver and I had glanced around me as he left, wondering which woman was the one he was clearly searching for.Maybe he’s back for that girl.
“Well.” He looks around at the faces of my friends, either happily pressed up in some corner with men who are probably a little too old, or too lost in raucous conversation to notice that I am currently wrapped in my brother’s best friend’s arms, and he sighs.Maybe his girl left.“Who else was going to make sure you get home safe, Mik?”
Asheleadsmeto the car waiting outside, I glance up at him repeatedly. His lips are set in a straight line and his eyes are pinned to the sleek black Mercedes that sits waiting for us. His fingers brush gently over my hip as he holds me against him, wrapped around me to stop me from falling and when he pulls away, his fingers skimming across the small of my back, my skin hums beneath his touch.
I stop looking at him.
“Ladies first.” He motions to the back seat when he opens the door and I slip into the car before he follows.
In the darkness, I can feel every nerve in my body as if each one is on fire, and when Ben follows in behind me, sidling into the open seat and keeping a large space between us, it feels like the whole car is going to combust and burn me to cinders with it.
I watch as he signals to his driver, someone I recognise from snapshots from the past, and I smile widely.
Norman.
He’s old, maybe in his seventies, and the way he smiles, all toothy and twinkly, gives the impression of mischief. His eyes are kind and for a second I feel like I’m thirteen again, following Jamie out of the apartment and watching as he dives into the back of the car with Ben. Back then, Norman would shoot me an apologetic wink before driving off to places I wasn’t allowed to go to. Right now, seeing him shoot one of those secretive winks in the rearview mirror, years after I’d last thought of him, brings a strange sense of comfort to the car and I sink into the leather a little more easily.
“Miss Wilcox.” His thick Dublin accent lifts through the vehicle and I feel my cheeks pulling up into a wide smile. I had forgotten that about him. “There’s water stowed in the compartment between your seats, should you need it, and young Ben can adjust the heat if you’re cold.”
The ghost of a smile flickers on Ben’s lips as he speaks. “Thanks Norman. You know where to go.”
“Thank you.” I repeat, smiling at the man in the front seat as he pulls out into the traffic. By the time he glances back in the rearview mirror, the two of us are sitting stiffly apart, unsure of where to look or what to say.
I swear, he shakes his head and chuckles.
Thedrivehomeishalf an hour from the bar - on the subway it’s just fifteen minutes - but twenty minutes into the silent crawl forwards, I can still see the faint glow of the neon sign behind us and hear the throbbing music of surrounding clubs and bars.
I twist a bottle of water in my hands as I push my knees together and try not to glance over at Ben again. He hasn’t said a word and I’m beginning to feel like a burden.
He huffs, making me jump slightly, as he runs his hands over his face and slumps lower in his seat. His legs are tucked together in a way that can’t be comfortable, not dissimilar to my own, and he glances over at me with a storm in his eyes.
I know I should at least try to look like I wasn’t staring at him just now, but I don’t look away.
“Sorry about the traffic,” he mumbles, looking back out of the window.
I twist in my seat, facing him as I lean my shoulder against the leather of the chair and rest my head, and I am looking directly at him. No hiding it. For the first time since he came to my rescue tonight I let myselfreallylook at him, and maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the way his eyes keep shifting back to me like he wants to say something, but I feel a tightness in my chest.
He hasn’t shaved since before the funeral and the dark stubble that coats his jaw is thicker than usual. Messier. His eyes are heavy too, not just from drink, but from carrying the weight of his father’s death. Dark rings puff beneath the surface of his skin and I know I haven’t imagined that the usual shimmer of his eyes is duller somehow.
He is suffering. My heart aches for him.
“Ben?” I whisper his name and he turns his body towards me, his knee brushing against mine as I shift closer. My heart sputters at the contact. Slowly, with his eyes following my every move, I reach towards him and take one of his hands in mine, my fingers brushing over his knuckles. “Are you okay?”
For a moment he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at my hands, wrapped around his, and I wait with bated breath. Eventually he sighs and closes his eyes, his head rolling to the side and resting on the upholstery like mine.
“I’m fine, Mik.” With that lie he tries to smile and I shuffle closer. When he looks at me again his eyes are burning with silent pleas and I sigh when he shakes his head.
“Ben.”
This time his smile is a little less forced as he says, “I will be.”
A shiver crawls up my spine, chilling me to my core, as Ben’s eyes drop slightly, tracing my lips and I take a breath. I tell myself to ignore that feeling; that my legs pressed up against his and our fingers intertwined means nothing. I tell myself I’m just cold. The window is open. There’s nothing more to it.
When Ben frowns I smile a little. He always ends up looking so serious.
“Are you cold?”
“I’m okay.” I shift closer again and Ben’s breathing hitches in a painful way. The thought that he is trying not to break hurts and I don’t fully understand my reaction to that pain.
Slowly, I place my head against his shoulder and close my eyes, shifting so that I can lean against him. In the drunken haze of the night, it feels comfortably normal nestled up next to him and, as he wraps his arm around me and brushes his hand against my skin, I drift into a soft sleep and dream of crystal blues.
