Every time I thought I’d reached a resolution about this incomprehensible turn of events that my life had taken, something new got thrown into the mix. I knew of course that I’d been attracted to Ben from the very beginning. That was the start of everything, obviously, that first night at the party. But I had been so certain that I would be able to ignore that attraction. He was just a man, after all, no different from any other. I didn’t need his affection.
At least, that’s what I’d told myself going into it, before the wedding, before the move to this apartment with him. But just now, when I was clasped in his arms and his mouth was right there, so close to taking me and making me his, I’d felt not the tiniest shred of ability to resist. He could have had me without a second thought. Hell, I’d thrown myself at him almost literally. But he hadn’t done anything. He’d backed away. Left me alone.
He emerged from the bedroom an hour later. Pacing up to the kitchen counter, he laid his hands to rest softly on the marble. He didn’t look at me as he spoke.
“I made up the bed for you. Clean sheets and everything. I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight. Bedroom’s all yours.”
“Okay,” I squeaked out quietly.
Without another word, he turned, walked over to the couch, and lay down with his back facing the kitchen.
I put the last of the dishes away before heading for the bedroom in timid, uncertain steps. Was this really what he wanted? To be so far away from me? Did I disgust him? All I had were questions and the man on the couch was quiet and still enough to be a corpse. He wasn’t offering me anything resembling an answer.
An hour later, I was in his bed, freshly showered and ready to sleep. But sleep wasn’t coming, not by a long shot. I felt as wide awake as if I’d just pounded back-to-back espressos. I didn’t understand the way the evening had gone. He was funny, then he was serious. He was charming, then he was distant. There was just not placing him, no comprehending what wild, pinwheeling thoughts were taking place behind that gorgeous face of his. I didn’t know whether to scream or cry or punch the pillows in frustration. Half of me wanted to march out to him right now and demand he explain himself.
But I didn’t do any of those things. Instead, I stayed under the covers, staring up at the ceiling while the same repetitive thoughts circled around and around, unsatisfied, like a flock of birds in search of food that just didn’t seem to be coming.
Chapter Twenty
Ben
I felt like hell the next morning. The couch may have looked comfortable when I bought it, but I found out quickly it was a real bitch to actually spend the night on. Still, I didn’t regret my decision. I didn’t trust myself to be anywhere near Carmen last night. I wanted to be far, far away from her, far enough that I’d be able to crush my desire to claim her into submission. There was no trusting that wily bastard. It had almost gotten me to succumb when I’d grabbed her during her dizzy spell. Being that close to those lips, that body, those beautifully pale eyes—it was torture of a cruel and unusual variety. A weaker man might have crumbled. Hell, I’d gotten pretty damn close. But I made it out with my promise intact. No touching. No staining. Just distance. Pure, blissful distance, as uncomplicated as a straight line.
We bumbled around the house awkwardly during the morning as the sun grew hotter and stronger through the windows. We both reached for the coffee pot at the same time, and when our hands brushed by accident, each of us leaped backwards like we’d been shocked by electricity. She giggled nervously, but I just turned and walked away. I needed to get the fuck outta there. I felt like a teenager again, all bristling libido and not the faintest clue of what to do with my eyes or my hands. Carmen looked as uncomfortable as I felt. By the time my phone rang and Slick’s caller ID popped up on the screen, I grabbed it like it was a float and I was a drowning man.
“What’s up, Slick?” I asked. I winced as the words came out of my mouth. I knew I sounded like an overeager little bitch.
“Damn, boss, what’s gotten into you? You never sound this peppy in the morning.”
I shifted my tone down an octave, noting as I did that Carmen’s eyes flicked up to me from where she sat on the couch filing her nails absent-mindedly. I winced again. This was a train wreck. I needed to get out. Fresh air. Clear the ole head. Too much shit floating around in this room for me to think straight. “Nothing,” I said brusquely. “What’ve you got for me? Any follow-up?”