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This is a special brand of delicious torture. Every soft curve of her body is pressed against me. My arms rest high on her back, but my hands could easily slide lower to cup her round, perky ass. I could clutch her tighter to me, roll over, and have my body bear down on hers as I devoured her pouty mouth.
But I don’t do those things. I’ll only push the boundaries so far until she gives me permission to go the distance I want to travel. For now, lying here together is enough.
“When Harry Met Sally. Good choice,” Holly murmurs while pulling the covers tighter around us.
“Don’t know why you doubt me. I thought we’d already established that I could do no wrong.”
In response, she pinches my side, but it’s more like a ticklish caress than anything.
I take it as a good sign that she can be comfortable here, lying with me like this. That she feels safe now.
Each day, I’m more confident about Jasper’s claim; Holly likes me, but she needs to trust me before I can ever hope to be with her.
17
HOLLY
The stupid, chilly weather is preventing me from fully admiring the sexiness that is Ben Gerhard. Of course, I wasn’t complaining about the cold last night when it gave me an excuse to fall asleep on his lovely, warm chest. But, now, as we make our way through the woods, this late fall air is a real nuisance.
If it were summer, I imagine Ben would be in shorts and a tank top. I’d be able to see his long arms with those corded muscles shifting under his skin. And his calves would be on full display. People underestimate the attractiveness of a nicely toned leg. I’m not one of those people. And the tattoos! I almost forgot about the gorgeous ink illustrations on his skin that I’ve only gotten to peek at.
I want to see them again. All of them.
Instead, I get Ben in long pants, a shapeless navy North Face jacket, and a black knit hat covering up his ruddy-blond curls. Hiking behind him, I can barely even tell it’s Ben. I could be following any random dude through the woods. Good thing I have an active imagination. As we hike up the narrow trail, I revisit images from last night.
That was one of the best sleeps I’d ever had. After the whole talking to a ghost and throwing things like a madwoman incident, of course. When Ben pulled me onto his chest, I was ready to stake a claim. That’s my spot, no one else’s. It’s the comfiest place in the world, and I’m not a good sharer.
At least, with Ben, I’m not.
Thinking of Roderick, which I haven’t done in a while, I remember the quick discussion we had a year ago about our arrangement. I was clear that, as long as he was using protection, I didn’t care who he had sex with. He asked me if I was sleeping with someone else, and I answered honestly. I wasn’t, and I didn’t have any plans to. That was true at the time. The idea of dealing with more than one guy just felt like work.
But spending time with Ben isn’t a hassle. More like a vacation I never want to return from. And the idea of someone else taking a vacation with Ben makes my face hot and my chest ache. Annabelle, the girl who so clearly wants to book a trip, shoves her way into my head.
And why in the world am I thinking about Ben’s ex-girlfriend?
Stupid question. I know why.
I want to be his current girlfriend. I might even want to be his forever girlfriend.
Ben’s the kind of guy who makes me ponder the future, not just the next hook-up. Not that we’ve had any hook-ups.
Sometimes, I get the sense that he’s flirting with me, but then he’s back to joking just as quickly.
In Ben’s mind, we’re just friends, which is how it should be.
My brain finishes its annoying loop of finding myself attracted to Ben, imagining being with Ben, remembering he sees me as a friend, and deciding it’s best we stay that way. Every time, the realization hurts like little paper cuts on my insides.
It’s a matter of minutes before the cycle starts again.
“How’re you doing back there, princess? You’ve been pretty quiet.”
The nickname sends those bastard butterflies ricocheting through my stomach.
“Just enjoying the view.” No need to point out his firm butt is what I’ve been staring at for the past fifteen minutes. “And trying not to hold you back.”
He’s been good about taking breaks regularly, reminding me to drink while taking sips from his own water bottle.
Ben stops and faces me. “If anyone is slowing us down, it’s me. Not really at peak condition anymore.” His comment comes out strained, as if he’s trying for a humorous tone but failing.
