I could…
My knuckles rapped on the bedroom door. There wasn’t even a choice, right or wrong. There was only one thing: making sure Benji was good. That’s all that mattered.
I heard movement from the other side of the door. Bedsheets rustling and a mattress squeaking. Footsteps followed next. The door lock clicked open, and Benji’s head appeared in the crack, backlit by a lamp on his nightstand. He was already in a pair of sleeping shorts and a gray tank top, his glasses on and socks off.
“Sorry, I just… well, you kind of left the kitchen looking pretty beat down… I’m just going to ask you right out: Are you doing all right?”
Benji’s brows rose in surprise, and the door opened a little wider. “I, um, yeah, I’m fine.” His gaze dropped down to his bare feet, his toes digging into the thick carpet. “Thanks for checking in.”
“All right… and you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Something in Benji’s demeanor told me otherwise.
“Want to go for a walk?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“I know it’s late, but walking and getting some fresh air always helps me out. We can take a little midnight walk through the sanctuary.” It wasn’t midnight, not for another three hours or so, but still, maybe he’d recall that special midnight we shared back in Costa Rica.
That velvet midnight I would never be able to forget, and one I’d never want to forget either.
His head lifted, eyes meeting mine. The growing smile on his face told me he remembered. But the smile was only a flash, as brief as a street-side firework. In moments, Benji deflated again.
“I’m good, Rex. Thanks.” He started to close the door.
Fuck. He’s not good. And I didn’t want to leave him. I felt like if we could just talk things through underneath the stars, then maybe Benji could start feeling better. I didn’t think he’d be back to 100 by sunup, but still, I didn’t like the idea of him going back behind a locked door so he could sit in the swamp of his emotions.
“Benji, just a quick walk. We can go up to the lake and come right back.”
He stalled in closing the door, and for a second, I thought I did it. He appeared to make a move for the shoes on the floor.
Instead, he shook his head and closed the door, the lock clicking back into place after I heard a murmured “good night.”
The hallway felt empty, even with all the warm memories that hung up on the white walls. The walk outside to the guesthouse wasn’t as soothing as I had sold to Benji. In fact, the fresh air did jack shit to help the anxious thoughts from barreling into the forefront of my brain.
And the biggest one of those thoughts? It wasn’t about my dad or the sex tape or the blackmail. It was about Benji.
What if I’m making him feel worse? Just by being here?
The thought careened through my head like a rocket ship breaking through an atmosphere, a fiery cannonball of chaos.
All night, it was all I could think about. Sometime around three in the morning was when I decided two things:
One. I’d find a way to leave by the weekend. Benji didn’t need me around, as badly as I was beginning to want it.
Two. I needed a glass of water and a heavy dosage of melatonin.
7
Benjamin Gold
I rolled over on the bed, my iPad almost falling off. I caught it before it fell face-first off the cliff of my twin-sized platform bed. My moms had offered to upgrade it to a full, but something about the smaller bed kept me comfortable. It always felt weird going to hotels and getting all this extra space to move around in.
Back when I felt things. The good ol’ days, when emotions and thrills and fears and hopes didn’t roll off me like I was coated in an oil slick.
The clock on the nightstand seared the time into my head with the bright red numbers: three in the morning.
I reached for my water bottle, sighing the second I lifted the empty bottle. My throat protested the development with a dry cough. I debated just staying in bed and ignoring the parchment paper that seemed to be clogging my esophagus. The thought of throwing off my sheets and walking the entire thirty feet or so it took to get to the kitchen gave me the chills.
But I’m soooo thirsty.
Ugh. Fine.
Sheets off, door open, floor creaking. I tiptoed down the dark hallway, hoping I didn’t wake up any of the animals. Penelope was a super-light sleeper, and Tammy turned into a wereotter if someone interrupted her beauty sleep. If you’ve never heard an otter hiss bloody murder, then accidentally wake her up and get ready to cover your ears.
I dodged the spots in the floor I knew would creak the loudest. I could have gotten to the kitchen with my eyes closed at this point. I hadn’t been expecting to be back home at the age of twenty-four, when everyone else seemed to be kick-starting their lives and careers, but hey, at least I was comfortable. It felt good, like being back in the womb somehow. The low ceilings and chips in the paint were comforting to me, carrying memories of being a kid, running through the halls with my siblings and feeling an overwhelming sense of love and happiness.
Yup. Those really were the good days.
I made it through the hall and past the living room without waking anyone or thing up. I almost forgot about the baby raccoons, but being nocturnal meant I also didn’t have to worry about them; they were already making their tiny little baby raccoon noises from inside the pen.
Inside the kitchen, I went straight for the fridge, not even bothering with the light. There was plenty of moonlight coming in from the window anyway. I filled up my water bottle and took an icy-cold sip, my body immediately thanking me with a satisfied and involuntary “ahh.”
“Can’t sleep?”
“What the—!”
I didn’t drop my water bottle by a miracle of divine making. It would have sounded like a nuclear bomb went off.
“Rex, jeez, you scared me.”
“Sorry, should have turned on the light.”
“Do you usually hang out in dark kitchens at the dead of night? Or is this a special occasion?”
My heart raced as my vision adjusted to the dim lighting. Rex leaned against the island, a glass of water in his hand. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, which made my heart pound even harder. I thought I could make out the dark shape of a tattoo on his chest, underneath the hair, but I didn’t want to stare (or lose control and dive headfirst).
“Special occasion,” Rex said. He took a sip of his water and set the glass down, ice clinking together. “It’s my last night here.”
I reeled back a little, confused and surprised. “You didn’t say you were leaving.”
“I didn’t know I was until a few hours ago.”
I reached behind me and flipped the light switch. This had to be a joke, and I had to see Rex’s face to determine that. It took a minute for my eyes to stop shutting at the sudden light, but he didn’t seem like he was joking. His face seemed serious, set in the decision. His lips were turned down into a sad smirk.
My eyes flitted down. Only a moment, but fuck, now I could clearly see the tattoo on his chest, and I could see a clear trail of hair for me to kiss my way down, licking and sucking while he slipped out of those blue gym shorts. I wanted to rub him up and down, feeling that big body under my hands, tasting him and—