"You fucked it up. You're friends with him, Ben. That makes it both not real, and too real. If we're together, he's going to figure out who I am. That makes me feel unsafe."
As if I'd kicked him in the stomach, Ben lowered his head, breathing in deep labored breaths, and squeezing his eyes closed. "Fuck."
We were both silent for a long time.
Ben finally murmured, "You're right. I fucked it up. I wanted to do this right for you so that you'd see that we were meant to be together, but now we can't be."
"What do you mean?"
Ben's eyes met mine, dark and soulful. "Just keep your distance from me. Go back to school. Just like you planned to do in the first place. No one will ever figure anything out and I'll never say a word. I'll have the memory of last night. You'll get your fantasy the way you wanted it. And you don't ever have to feel unsafe. Not because of me anyway." He took the photo from me and hung it on the wall, taking a great deal of trouble to make it level. "Problem solved."
My chest rose and fell in shock. "Wait. Are you breaking up with me?"
He couldn't even look at me. "Were we together?"
"Yes, we were fucking together," I snapped. "For like, twelve hours, but yeah, we were!"
"Well, now we're not."
"Who are you?" I asked, shoving his arm. "One minute you're a nice guy, then you're getting down and dirty, and now you're being an asshole."
Ben's head snapped in my direction. "I'm all those guys, okay? The guy who got down and dirty with you? Yeah. That's me. Part of me anyway. An authentic part. But there's another part, too. The part you don't like. A guy who hates risk. So let's not take the risk of being together because it obviously is a risk."
"Wow," I said, letting everything sink in. Understanding—really understanding—that whatever he did was only to protect me. That if I'd really cared who it was, maybe I shouldn't have told him to surprise me. He'd done the best he knew how to live up to the trust I gave him, and that I ought to be grateful. And maybe I would be grateful if he wasn't breaking up with me. "Everything is a risk, Ben. It took you how many years to get up the nerve to take your shot with me? And now that you've scored, you're just walking away without even asking me what I want?"
"I'm clearly not what you want, Becca. I am a nice guy. I'm the kind of guy who can pimp you out, but not without a twenty page checklist of contingencies."
My stomach bottomed out. "You wrote it down?"
"No! I'm saying that I want to fucking protect you and romance you. I want to treat you like a sex toy, make you come like a freight train, and then make you pancakes for breakfast the next morning. I want to exchange Christmas presents, and kiss you under the mistletoe, and go to see your plays in the city, and take you to swanky parties, and then push you up against the wall in an alley and fuck you so hard you feel it for days. But mostly? You're right. I'm a happily-ever-after kind of guy. And that's not going to change."
He stood there, fists clenched, as miserable as I'd ever seen him. And I just wanted to reach out and shake him. Instead, I asked, "What kind of pancakes?"
Ben sputtered as his eyes met mine. "What?"
"What kind of pancakes do you want to make me?"
Gawping as if he thought I was crazy, Ben finally crossed his arms over himself. "Blueberry. Because blueberries have antioxidants. Because they're good for you. Think you can fucking handle that, Becca?"
"I happen to be crazy about blueberries," I said, wiping the tears away with the back of my hand. "…and you."
Ben eyed me, sullenly. Totally disbelieving.
I gave a shaky little laugh. "You actually made being with good guy Ben White a little dangerous, you know. A little risky. That's pretty much catnip for a girl like me."
That coaxed a tiny smirk from him.
I took a deep breath. "I don't know what comes next, Ben, but whatever we did last night cracked me open and my insides got all mixed up with yours, too. So, yeah, I'm crazy about you. I'll even use the L word first if you want. And I'll be your date for New Year's Eve. Think you can fucking handle that?"
Ben's eyes slowly filled with a hopeful emotion. "If you're screwing with me…"
"I'm not screwing with you," I said, my heart filling up with such warmth that I flushed with it. "But if you're my guy, then I have to go shopping for a Christmas present for you."
His eyes sparkled, and he reached for me. "You're everything I ever wanted for Christmas."
I grinned, tugging him into a lustful kiss. "Then you should start learning to open up your presents on Christmas Eve…"
DEAR READERS