Where I Belong (Alabama Summer #1)

“Goodnight,” he says with a smile that seems guarded, unlike his usual halt me in my place smile that makes me forget how to breathe.

I go to close the door but stop myself, turning back to Ben. “I’m really sorry I broke your stereo.”

“What?”

I wince at the memory. “Remember the summer before I moved away? I went to your room to borrow your stereo and I knocked it off your desk, breaking it. I’m really sorry about that.”

He shakes his head, his brow furrowing. “What made you think about that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. But, God, I remember how angry you were. You hated me that day.”

His gaze drops briefly before returning to mine. “Mia, do me a favor. Don’t apologize for stuff that happened between us before. You could’ve broken everything in my room and it wouldn’t have justified the way I treated you back then. You don’t owe me an apology. Ever. Okay?”

I smile meekly and nod. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

I walk inside and go straight to my bedroom, collapsing down on my bed. Tonight was amazing. It was the best non-date I’ve ever been on. I loved talking and hanging out with Ben, which seemed crazy considering how much I used to hate the mere presence of him. The boy I once wished never existed was now the man I wanted to spend every second with. I wasn’t holding on to that hate I once had for him anymore. I couldn’t. Not when the man he is now made me feel things I’ve only read about in books. I was done trying to forget that I gave him a part of me that no one else would ever touch. I wanted him to have it. I wanted him to have every piece of me. Benjamin Kelly was becoming everything I’ve ever wanted and I was finally willing to admit that to myself.

At the very moment my eyes shut, Tessa swings my door open and walks over to my bed, lying down next to me. I wait for the interrogation to start, but it doesn’t come, which is shocking. Rolling over, I notice her worried expression.

“I’m late,” she states, keeping her eyes on the ceiling.

“For…” And then it hits me. Girls only use that wording for one thing when it’s paired with the look she’s carrying right now. “Oh my God. What are you going to do?”

She finally looks at me but doesn’t respond. But she doesn’t have to. Her face is giving away everything she needs to say.

She has no fucking clue.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Ben

I wanted to tell her she looked beautiful that night.

I wanted to wrap my arm around her shoulder and hold her against my chest when she slid next to me in my truck.

I wanted to kiss those soft full lips before she walked into the house.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t do any of those things. Not when I was very clear about that night not being a date.

I’m trying to earn Mia’s trust and drilling her into my bench seat isn’t the way to go about it. If I act on my impulses, it will fuck up the progress I’ve somehow managed to make. She’s talking to me now instead of brushing me off. She’s spending time with me instead of running away. Or jumping off cliffs. I can’t lose what I have going with Mia. And my dick can hate me all it wants, but I am adamant about keeping things friendly with her for now.

Four days. That’s how long I made it without seeing her before I found myself driving to my parents’ house after work. And believe me when I say that those four days were the longest of my life. Thank Christ I had a job, otherwise I’m certain I would’ve gone completely mental without a distraction. Luke enjoyed my misery immensely, making sure to point out every time I brought Mia’s name up in conversation that had everything to do with work and nothing to do with her. And it was misery. Keeping my thoughts off her tight pussy and focusing on the friendship I was building with her. And if my own mind wasn’t hard enough to filter on its own, she started throwing text messages at me that were becoming more and more sexual. Apparently, Mia and I were now the type of friends that joked around about sex. She was so fucking comfortable with me now that nothing was off limits to her. And she didn’t care to ask me if I was okay with that before she shifted us into that category.

Mia: Do you think it’s possible to get carpal tunnel from masturbating too much?

This was the first one she threw at me. My brain was immediately flooded with images of her touching herself, and it took every ounce of strength in me not to get off before I replied. I should’ve answered it with something like this;

Me: Mia, I don’t think that’s an appropriate friend conversation to have. And we’re friends, so let’s not go there.

But no, I’m a complete shit with zero willpower. So instead, I answered with this;

Me: If it’s possible, I’d already have it.

Yup. Now she knew I was jerking off like a mad man. Which was the God’s honest truth. I was hoping that this was a mistake on her part and she’d realize her error and never tempt me with another text like this again. My dick was throbbing enough without the help from the images she was putting into my head. But apparently, she was just getting started.

Mia: What do you think is my best feature? Tessa says my legs, but I’m thinking my boobs. Thoughts?

Thoughts? Really? I was convinced that she was trying to kill me. She was an angel and a devil wrapped into one package that I couldn’t refuse. One that I desperately wanted to bend over my bed and fuck into tomorrow. I couldn’t ignore her. We were friends, and if this was the type of friends she wanted to be, then I could be that. I’d be hard constantly, but let’s face it, being around her was already making that an issue. So I decided to just go with it and answer honestly.

Me: Tits, mouth, ass, legs. In that order.

I thought I was golden. I thought I was going to be able to handle these sexual texts and not have my dick in my hand twenty-four hours a day. And I would’ve been, if she didn’t up the stakes.

Mia: Do guys prefer a girl that swallows to a girl that spits? I mean, isn’t the general act of sucking off a guy enough to make them happy? Does it really matter what I do with your cum?

Motherfucker. This text was reread numerous times, mainly when I was jerking myself off. Especially that last sentence. The implication of it being my cum in her mouth was too much for me. I was weak. Weak and hornier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Weak enough to give her a response.

Me: It’s really fucking hot when a girl swallows. But yes, the act itself is enough to make most guys not care one way or the other.

Not a big deal. I was perfectly capable of handling anything she threw at me. Or so I thought.

Mia: I was so unbelievably horny today. Guys are lucky. They can just tuck their erections away and go on about their day like they aren’t sporting wood. Girls can’t do that. I had to change my panties twice before lunch.

That does it. I wave my white flag in surrender. I don’t give her a response to that, not by text message anyway. No, my response is in the form of me pulling up to my parents’ house like a complete dick. I need to see her, especially after that last text. I should be seeing her to tell her in person that she couldn’t keep sending me messages like that. But the second her body comes into view, lounging on a chair next to the pool, every thought is wiped from my brain. I suddenly can’t remember why I am here, but that doesn’t stop me from walking around the pool and directly toward her like a man possessed. Her eyes are closed so she doesn’t see me coming. And then she opens her mouth and begins singing along to the song that is playing through her ear buds. I recognize “Crash My Party” by Luke Bryan instantly. It’s an alright song, but hearing Mia sing it makes me really like it. I stand in front of her, even more enthralled by the sight of her than I usually am as she stays completely oblivious to my presence. My girl can sing. Her voice is as beautiful as she is and she’s belting the tune out and tapping her feet on her beach towel as I enjoy the show. She hums the final notes of the song before her eyes finally open, meeting the smile that’s been plastered on my face since she got in my sight.