“Sierra. Stop.” He takes my arm, forcing me back against the wall. I hang my head, unable to look at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing running outside by yourself? Has nothing I’ve said these past few months registered with you?” I can tell he’s working hard not to shout at me. “It’s not safe, Sierra. Especially tonight.”
I ignore him, looking at my feet, wishing I could click my fingers and magic myself back home. I want nothing more than to be curling in a ball under my comforter in bed, crying until I expunge my anguish.
I hate the power Ben has over me.
I hate I’m the one granting him that power.
I hate that I love him even more.
“Look at me,” he commands, but I ignore him, clamping my lips shut to keep my pain trapped inside.
“Firefly, please.” His voice is softer, his tone concerned, and it takes me back in time.
I’m trying not to cry, but the deep gash in my shin burns like I shoved my leg into a furnace instead of falling out of the tree, ripping the skin on a branch on the way down. I’m limping around the kitchen, leaving a trail of blood on Mom’s pristine white tiled floor as I search for the first aid kit. I know she keeps one in here, but I can’t find it.
“If it isn’t my favorite girl,” a deep voice says, startling me, and I jump, a shrill squeak fleeing my mouth before I can stop it. Bracing my hands on the kitchen counter, I silently pray that Ben turns around. I don’t want him to see me crying like a sissy. He’ll never see me as a woman if I keep giving him reminders I’m a kid.
“What happened?” he asks, concern underscoring his tone. “Why are you bleeding?”
“It’s nothing,” I lie, quickly swiping my tears away. “You should go back to Saskia. She’s probably looking for you.”
I feel him step up behind me, heat rolling off his body in waves. Butterflies run amok in my stomach, and my limbs tremble, like they always do in his presence. “Firefly. Look at me.”
“I’m okay, Ben.”
“I’d like to see that for myself.” He squeezes my shoulder, very lightly, and it’s brief, but it’s everything.
“Please, Firefly. Turn around and let me see.”
“Sierra.” Ben’s rich timbre pulls me out of the past. His finger presses under my chin, tipping my face up. His piercing blue eyes strip me bare, and he sees everything I have tried so hard to keep from him. From myself too. But I’m too heartsick now to shield the truth. “Please don’t cry.” He wipes his thumbs along the moisture collecting on my cheeks.
“Don’t touch me,” I say, but my tone lacks heat. I try to latch on to my anger because I know it’s there somewhere, simmering under the surface, but all I can find is sadness.
“Come here. Let me hold you.”
A spark of anger flares inside me. “I don’t want your pity, Ben. Go back to my sister. I’m sure you only have a short window to fuck Saskia before her husband starts looking for her.”
“It’s not what it looked like,” he says, looking completely unruffled, and that pisses me off.
“You kissed her! I saw you. Don’t even attempt to deny it.”
He steps closer, pressing his body flush against mine as he peers deep into my eyes. “She kissed me.”
My nostrils twitch as pain roars through me, transforming my sadness, fueling me with liquid rage. I push him back until there’s some distance between us. “That’s just semantics, Ben.”
His large palms grip my face, and a muscle pops in his jaw as he stares at me. “It’s not semantics. She cornered me and kissed me. You arrived just at that moment before I could push her away.”
I attempt to wrest my face from his hands, but he holds me firmly, refusing to let me go. “Quit with the bullshit, Ben. I know you’ve been fucking around with her, and it’s not like I have any claim on you. You are free to screw whoever you want. It’s no skin off my back if you have shit taste in women.”
I’m expecting one of his legendary smirks, but he surprises me, maintaining a solemn expression. “I haven’t touched Saskia in years, Sierra, and I never fucked her.”
Hope is a fickle beast, but he’s there, lying low, ready to throw a party. “But you said—”
“I was pissed, and I said it to annoy you, but I didn’t go to Saskia when I left your bedroom that day. I went to my house and slept for a few hours until I was calm enough to return to you and our son.”
“What about Chantel?” I hiss her name like it’s poison, and I hate myself for being so transparent. But my emotions are raw, powering through me and taking control in place of logic and self-preservation.
“She means nothing.”
“Did you fuck her?”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t fucked her in months.”
“So why is she here?”
He sighs, releasing my cheeks, and I instantly miss his touch. He scrubs his hands down his face, looking left and right. “We need to get back inside.”
I cross my arms over my chest. Oh no. He’s not deflecting. “Answer me. Why is she here?”
“You want the truth?”
“Always,” I whisper.
He takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. A flurry of shivers whips up my arm at his touch, and I curl my hand around his, not wanting to let go. “I needed her to distract me from you.”
My brow puckers. “I don’t understand.”
He mutters under his breath, and conflict rages on his face. He moves closer again, lifting his free hand to my face. His fingers sweep across my cheek, igniting flames in their wake. “I’m trying to stay away from you, Firefly, but you make it so difficult.”
“Why do you want to stay away from me? Why are you fighting this?” His words tell me he feels the connection between us too. That I’m not the only one confused and struggling to make sense of it all.
He cups one side of my face. “I’m trying to keep you safe, but I’m not as strong as I thought.” He presses his forehead to mine and his minty breath washes over my face. I rest my hand on his waist, pulling him closer. Our bodies are flush, our heads touching, and it would take nothing to kiss him, but I won’t be the one to make that move. I don’t know what’s going on here, and I won’t line myself up for another rejection.
“Sierra,” he whispers, peering deep into my eyes. Torment is etched upon his face, as clear as day, and I want to wipe it away. My eyes drift to his mouth, and my breath stutters in my chest as unbridled longing surges through my veins. I want to kiss him so badly. But I’m still hurting over Saskia, and I can’t offer myself up to him like a lamb to the slaughter no matter how much I wish to throw caution to the wind.
Kiss me.
His eyes lower to my lips, and I stop breathing. Butterflies are careening around my chest, and my heart is beating to a wild new reckless beat. Do it, Ben. Take charge. Take the decision out of my hands.
Kiss me.
Indecision races across his face, and I don’t think either one of us is breathing. He lifts his eyes, finding mine again, and we stare at one another for a few intense moments. It feels like my heart is about to burst through my rib cage and take flight. Longing coats my body in a fine layer of need, and I’m silently urging him to man up when he moves his face in closer, his lips aiming toward my mouth.