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“It’s too noisy,” I told him. “And don’t say you’ll be quiet because you never are.”
“But I don’t have any snacks at my place,” he whined.
I opened my door, sticking my bad foot out into the rain. “Then stop at the gas station. Good night.”
He didn’t follow me and I got another shower and rewrapped my ankle, propping it up on pillows with an ice pack while I stewed about the absolute mess that was that day. After flipping through my notes about past climbs and jumps, I finally gave up, realizing there was no other place that I already knew about that would work as well. I’d have to start from scratch or accept my stunt wouldn’t be as spectacular as I planned or promised. If I found a place, I’d have to do test climbs, because despite what Ben thought, I wasn’t reckless. I loved a thrill, but I wasn’t interested in breaking every bone in my body like he was so certain would happen.
Now I was thinking about Ben again and my irritation soon turned to frustration when I remembered his silly jokes. Those glimpses of mischief in his eyes that he was so quick to snuff out with a scowl. That body, my goodness. The way he forgave me for running off in a rage like a toddler. The fact I was positive he was about to kiss me before Shakes showed up and ruined it.
I kicked away my ice pack and rolled over in bed, yanking the covers up to my chin. I needed to get some rest because I had an endless amount of work in front of me to keep up the momentum I’d been creating. I’d have to email my sponsors and explain what happened and what was going on, I’d have to keep up a brave face to my followers, pretend everything was fine and dandy. I had to keep putting on a show. On top of that, I still had my actual jobs that paid my rent.
As soon as I closed my eyes, Ben’s face as he leaned in to kiss me filled my mind. I flipped my pillow to the cool side and stared at the ceiling, listening to the rain batter the roof. A crack of lightning illuminated my darkened room for a second and I wondered if Ben was still looking at the storm out of his big bank of windows. The more I tried not thinking about him, the more curious I got. I wanted to learn everything about him, dig deep to find more of his well-hidden smiles and silly jokes.
It was too bad I’d made an absolute fool of myself. Operation Butter Up was a mistake. I’d lost the jump and I’d lost out on knowing Ben.
It was a long time before I fell into a fitful sleep.
