AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hate fucking.” The words come out matter of fact, and he actually rolls his eyes at me. It would be cute if I wasn’t sure this was an important moment.
The make or break moment.
And I’m terrified it’s going to be a break.
“And the days we spend together, the time we’re not fucking?” I sit on that, mostly because I haven’t been able to figure that out either. Why has he been spending so much time with me, being so nice to me if this is just an enemies with benefits thing? Why would bring me home and introduce me to his family?
My mind wanders back to those paintings for auction. Paintings of me.
My mind wanders to Hattie’s words.
He’s different with you.
But what does that even mean?
He answers my unspoken question, always knowing. He can read me the way no one else has been able to.
“I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since that first time I saw you, dancin’ around your kitchen, stupid pink bows in your braids, flour on your cheeks, screamin’ at me.”
I feel my mouth drop open.
“What?”
“You heard me.” I’m flustered.
“That’s just because you wanted to have sex with me.” His smile grows.
“That. And more. Fuck, Lola. You know that. It was sex at first. I wanted to fuck you out of my system. That fucking backfired, and then it became more. Then I realized it was always more. It was always more, Lola.We were always more.”
“That’s not true.”
“The fuck it isn’t.”
“Ben, you can’t stand me. You hate me! But then I became a damsel in distress and you got distracted. Everyone knows a damsel in distress does that to men like you. But in a week, you’ll go back to hating me, except then I’ll also be out of your system.” I feel like a strange mix of realistic and self-deprecating, but a lifetime of lies and secrets and half-truths makes me hesitant to take things at face value.
“Not true.”
“How is that not true?” He sighs, a hand moving to my cheek as he looks in my eyes, like his mind is replaying a memory they sparked.
“I think I fell for you that first day.” My entire body goes still. “Banging pans and playing shitty music like your life depended on it. Singing like a dying cat, not fucking locking your door then yelling at me like it was my fault. Threatening to call the cops. I loved that you didn’t take my shit.”
“Ben, that makes—”
“Maybe it was when you spilled your coffee on me and looked like your entire day was falling apart.”
“Youspilledmycoffee,” I say because I won’t let that one get past me.
“Every muscle in my body needed to make your day better.” I stop breathing. “Or maybe when I saw you pinned, scared as fuck. Knew I needed you to be mine because I needed to take care of you. It was clear no one had been doing it until me.”
“Ben, I—” My voice has gone soft, and I don’t think he can even hear me, so stuck in his story and my eyes.
“But that first day. I knew it then. A part of me, at least.”
“I—” I hear my own voice has gone soft with resignation. There’s no way. He’s sweet, saying it, but—
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“It’s not that—”
