Becoming A Vincent (The Wild Ones 1)

No one else is allowed to see him like this.

See? Crazy girl alert.

But it’s okay, because I’m a Vincent. People expect some crazy.

“Benson!” Paul calls. “Care if we watch the fireworks from over here? Her damn brothers are driving us crazy with that bungie launcher they built,” Paul says, gesturing toward me.

Then Lindy walks in, her eyes going straight to the half-naked specimen that is mine. Well, he will be.

I’ve decided that there’s no way I can keep living in denial. Time to move on to another phase and hope Benson wants me too. I just don’t know how to test those waters without being awkward about it.

Benson has been a permanent fixture in my life for a while, and ever since sleeping on top of him, I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. And it’s Benson. We’re friends. We’re best friends, actually.

That could be a good thing, right?

Lindy smiles brightly at him as several other men and women walk in. I don’t bother looking at their faces, because I’m too concentrated on Benson as he walks back toward me.

“Looks like I don’t have a choice,” he tells Paul. “But this better mean my materials get moved up to the top of the list.”

Paul nods, grinning with delight, as Delaney drops to his lap on the chair next to us. Lindy moves toward us, but Benson literally pulls me onto his lap before she can make a move.

Again, I get the evil eye, even as I try not to grin.

Lindy is ballsy, but she’s not a Vincent or a Wild One. She knows I trump her level of crazy, and I see the moment she knows she can’t compete.

Benson’s arms go around my waist, and he buries his face in my neck. “Tell me when she’s gone,” he whispers, and I fight really hard not to laugh.

“Lindy! Come join us,” someone shouts from the side.

Benson’s pool table is coming in handy as Lindy goes to show off her skills in her daisy dukes.

“Best. Night. Ever,” Paul sighs as Delaney smiles against his lips.

Benson shakes his head, his face still against my neck.

“She’s gone,” I tell him, and he lifts his head, scanning the room to make sure I’m not tricking him.

He doesn’t let me out of his lap, so I stay in place as Delaney tells us about what my brothers were doing. Apparently they decided watermelons were awesome ammo for their new contraption.

They also thought Aunt Penny’s pies were awesome ammo.

And I give it maybe fifteen more minutes before she’s chasing them with the BB gun until they’re off her property.

Benson’s hands stay clasped around my middle as I talk to Delaney about my trip out to Seattle that’s coming up next month for a graphic design seminar I want to attend. That’s when Lindy returns.

“So, you two got cozy quick,” Lindy says, her annoyed eyes betraying her smiling lips.

She’s carefully navigating, scoping out my crazy reach, testing the waters.

“They’re always like that,” Paul says dismissively, which has Lindy deflating like Delaney did earlier.

Sheesh. Has no one ever noticed him at all when he was with me? It’s like he was invisible or something.

Benson gulps down another beer, and I start noticing that he’s getting drunk when his hands start drifting over my body, touching me a little less safely. His thumb even brushes my breast once.

This isn’t the first time, but it’s the first time I haven’t stopped his hands while laughing it off.

Usually he gets drunk, gets handsy, then he’s mortified the next day. By usually, I mean this has happened a total of five times. It’s why he rarely drinks around me.

Tonight, however, I don’t bat his hands away.

I also know that I should, because we’re both a little tipsy, which is also a first. Usually one stays sober while the other drinks. And by usually, again, like a handful of times.

I’ve been handsy before on Benson, according to Paul, but I don’t remember it, and Aunt Penny never saw it. And Benson said it never happened. So…who knows?

I lean back, sighing as Benson’s lips brush my neck. Something he’d never, ever do sober. Hence the reason I know he’s getting drunker by the beer.

I drink more of mine, and he looks over, gesturing toward Delaney who is ramming her tongue down Paul’s throat. Paul is in heaven, but I think he’s about to have an accident.

According to rumors, it’s been a while for him.

I laugh while standing, noticing Lindy is back at the pool table, no longer watching us.

Thunderous booms rattles the sky, causing the house to quake, and Benson smiles down at me as we both grab a fresh beer from the ice bucket one of the others set up, and head outside to watch the fireworks.

He tugs me to him, resting his chin on top of my head as I lean back against him. The fireworks sprinkle across the sky, beautiful and bright, demanding attention.