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“I don’t eat much when I’m stressed. Just feel too sick, you know?”
“No, because when I’m stressed I eat like a fucking dog. But glad to know we aren’t stressing you out,” I say, and Ben smiles softly at me.
“No, you’re not.”
He takes another bite and the three of us just sit there, stuffing our faces, our ankles linked under the table. Music starts to play, and in the distance I see people start to come together to dance.
“You gonna show off your moves?” Ford asks me, and I roll my eyes.
“Fuck you.”
Ben stares at me expectantly. “What do you mean? Like you know how to dance-dance?”
“My parents made me take lessons growing up.”
Around a mouthful of food, Ford pipes up. “It’s hot as fuck. He leads the way and makes my dick hard.
A woman passing stares at Ford who is talking a little too loudly, and I almost chastise him before remembering that I don’t give a fuck. I hope he uses his megaphone voice—I hope he announces everything in great detail.
Anything to leave this shitshow earlier.
“Come on. Show me those moves,” Ben says, standing up and holding out his hand to me.
I can’t say no. Not to him. Moving toward him, I link my fingers with his and pull him toward the dance floor my parents set up near the koi pond. I hate all this pretentiousness, but I do give them props for making shit look nice.
“Show me,” Ben says as he comes to a stop on the edge of the floor. I step toward him, placing his hand on my shoulder and mine on his waist before linking our fingers once more and stepping to my right.
Ben’s cheeks are flushed as we move across the floor, drawing eyes to us. But I don’t care. Let them think what they want. Let them draw their own conclusions. All I can see is him, all I can feel is him beneath my palms.
His eyes twinkle as they meet my intense gaze, and he bites his bottom lip.
“You’re looking at me like you want to kiss me,” he says softly.
“That’s because I do.”
His cheeks flush brighter, the brush of freckles across his nose darkening as that pretty pink spreads across his cheeks.
“You should.”
I bring him closer to me, almost flush with my body as my hand snakes up his back and clutches the back of his neck. At this moment, I don’t care who sees, don’t care what kind of judgments they’ll make.
Because all I care about in this moment is kissing Ben.
My mouth meets his, and he sighs into me, his hand sliding up into my hair as our tongues collide. I can feel the space between us dissipate as our bodies press together. We’re so close I can feel his heart beating against my chest. I want him to be this close to me forever.
I want them both to stay with me until I draw my last breath.
As soon as the song ends, Ford taps Ben on the shoulder and takes his place. He’s so much bigger than Ben, he just fits in my arms like he was always meant to be. I don’t know how I didn’t realize this for so long.
“We fit good together. Always have,” Ford says, and I roll my lips between my teeth.
“Yeah, guess you’re right.”
“Always knew it, just had to bide my time. Just so happens that Ben is the one who got you to see reason.”
We turn to look at Ben who is watching us with a hooded gaze. He’s sipping on a glass of wine and looking so fucking delectable.
“How did we get so lucky?” Ford asks, and I shake my head.
