Page 71 of Every Hidden Truth

Obeying, I flipped through the months, each one depicted by a beautiful scenic photo with a quote. The cheesy pictures puzzled me until I read the first quote, and everything clicked. Laughing, I went through each month, my eyes watering. He’d designed a Silas-inspired calendar, and I read January’s quote to explain my amusement to the befuddled adults.

“Never wish upon a star. It’s been dead a million years, just like your dreams.” Ben snorted as I chortled, turning to February. “Just have patience. If you wait long enough, eventually all the people you hate will die of natural causes.

“Oh my God, this is gold. Thanks, Ben.” I landed a sloppy kiss on his cheek as he carefully peeled the tape from his first gift from me.

“You’re welcome.” Where I had shredded the wrapping paper, Ben carefully unwrapped it, folding it neatly before scrutinizing the shoe box. “Should I be scared?”

I shrugged, biting my bottom lip. He lifted the lid cautiously only to throw his head back with a laugh at the contents. Dumping the box on the floor, he shoved my shoulder as individual silver-wrapped sticks of spearmint gum scattered across the carpet.

“Well, I won’t be running out of gum anytime soon.” Ben knocked my shoulder with his. “Thanks, Silas.”

“You’re welcome.”

After we gathered the sticks of gum and returned them to the box, Ben watched me open the gift bag. I cleared the tissue paper and gazed inside, my stomach simmering as I discovered his California hoodie inside.

“This is yours, you idiot.” I pulled the hoodie out and admired it.

“Well, it looks better on you.”

I stuck out my tongue at the lame compliment, and he huffed, his eyes glittering as I slipped the loose hoodie over my head.Ben liked the shirt I’d bought him, reading,There are 1 0 types of people, those who understand binary and those who don’t.

He’d laughed, especially when I admitted to not understanding the joke.

When we’d opened all our presents, we gathered the discarded wrapping paper and tossed it in the garbage. The parents talked in the living room, and Ben and I escaped to the kitchen under the guise of washing the dishes.

We did do that, but we also made out. A lot.

Shushing me at even intervals, he attached himself to my mouth as I moaned at the overwhelming mint on his tongue. My soapy hands tangled in his hair as he dropped his hands to my hips before shaping my ass and sliding them lower.

With a firm grip on my thighs, Ben hoisted me onto the counter and shoved between my legs as I attempted to stay quiet. The risk of getting caught was strangely exciting. I’d never noticed how much noise I made until I had to consciously hold myself back. Maybe I really was a screamer.

Ben sucked on the nape of my neck, and, after checking his handiwork, he grinned. Of course, he would feel the need to mark me. Freaking caveman.

“Seriously? A hickey?”

Unaffected by my rebuke, he nodded and kissed me. “So,” he mused against my lips, “about that V.I.P. party in my room.”

I hummed in interest, but my dad’s voice cutting through the room shattered the lusty atmosphere.

Ben stepped back, creating distance, and my palm scrubbed my face in hopes of removing the aroused heat on my cheeks.

“Silas?” Dad entered the kitchen followed by Aunt June. “You ready to head out?”

Ben answered before I could, sporting an innocent, charming smile. “Actually, Charlie, I was hoping Silas could stay a bitlonger. I’ll drive him home, of course, if you’re ready to leave, but would it be alright for him to stay?”

With a shrug, he studied my flushed face and mussed hair, wincing slightly. “Uh, sure thing. Just don’t be too late. It’s starting to snow again.”

“We won’t.” My face boiled as I hopped down from the counter, praying no one noticed the situation in my jeans. “Come on, Ben.”

Grabbing his hand, I dragged him to the stairs, and we trampled down the steps like a herd of elephants. I tripped twice, and Ben saved me from face-planting, teasing me for my clumsiness. I ignored him, bursting into his room before shutting the door behind us.

I aimed to look seductive as I locked the doorknob, biting my bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily when he swallowed. Mission accomplished.

“So, as the V.I.P. guest, do I get to pick the dress code?” I waltzed across the room and sank into his mattress, hands clasped between my knees.

Instead of joining me on the bed, he leaned against the pool table and crossed his arms over his chest. “Dress code?”

“Mhm, the dress code. I think I should choose.”

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