Page 10 of Rebellious

“Alright,” Paul says, guiding Bennett and me over to a cut-in that Fenn and Drew didn’t bother using. “Hang on to each other. Derek is waiting at the bottom for you.” Hopefully, Derek got our idiot brothers out of the way. “On three, Bennett, lean forward,” Paul continues explaining.

I barely register it. My heart is pounding, my body locked tightly in the love of my life’s arms. If this is the last time I get to feel these arms, I can walk away a semi-happy girl.

“Asp,” Bennett rasps out.

I jerk off his shoulder and meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

His breaths are labored.

“Bennett. Don’t mess with me.” I’m worrying, but then his chest heaves, and he gags.

I don’t have time to do anything but gasp because he shoves us off the edge and sends us free-falling into nothing but air, only an abandoned county road beneath us. I’m screaming in between laughs when I realize Bennett was just playing. He wasn’t getting sick.

This silly man has the worst sense of humor.

I smile to myself and hold Bennett tighter. He’s yet to scream, which isn’t all that surprising. He’s a man, and men don’t scream, even if they want to. “Hey, Bennett,” I say, pitching my voice to sound shaky.

“Yeah?”

“I’m slipping.”

His arms tense around me, and I burst out laughing, not able to hold the charade any longer.

“You’re going to hell,” he finally mumbles.

I chuckle.

I just might because nothing I want to do with him is godly.

I’m clean and still riding the adrenaline high when I step out of Bennett’s shower. All the rooms in the guys’ townhouse are nicely sized, but Bennett has the master bedroom. Meaning, his bathroom is plush with a wide double vanity and two sinks. My toothbrush already claims one sink, but just in case, the sentence “Aspen’s. DO NOT TOUCH!” streaked in the fogged-up mirror should clear up any remaining confusion. Not that Bennett would allow anyone to come into his room.

But you never know.

Wrenching the door open, cool air and bullshit hits my skin. “Rule: You can never be naked,” Bennett mutters, exhausted.

Sitting at the end of the bed, head hanging low, Bennett avoids my gaze.

I stride over and kneel at his feet, pushing between his knees while my fingers lift his head. “I’m not naked. See exhibit A: your towel.”

He doesn’t scold me about using his towel or being this close to him.

Uh oh. “What did you eat?”

He tries turning his head, but I have a firm grip and force him to look at me. “Bennett.”

A deeply annoyed sigh rumbles between us but ask me how much I care. “Bennett. I asked you a question. If I ask it again, I doubt you’ll like the results.”

With Bennett, I think about what most twenty-one-year-old guys would want and do the opposite. Exhibit A: his towel. If he doesn’t answer me, I will drop the towel and force him to at least yell at me.

Motivation is a dangerous tool.

I tug at the knot of the towel, and his eyes snap to attention. “Don’t you dare.”

See? Bennett is a simple man.

I pull his face closer, forcing us nose to nose. “Then you better answer me.”

He lowers his lashes and draws in a deep breath. We stay this way until he’s ready to behave.

---