Page 107 of Burn Bright
Oh my God, Harriet.I didn’t come here to torture my pent-up self. I came here for a place to crash—as insleep.
He’s also shirtless. Staring at his cut biceps should be safer territory, but I just remember being held by him in the sanctuary of my car. The force of his caring embrace, and I ache to be wound up in Ben’s stronghold again.
Ben has a peeking smile, as if he can tell I’m attracted, but thankfully, he rolls over it to explain, “I was talking to MVU’s hockey coach. I’m trying out on Monday.”
I nod. “Glad you got off the seesaw, Friend.” I knew he’d been debating on trying out. I told him he can always reject the offer if he makes the team. And if they sayno, then the choice is made for him anyway.
“Did you leave this out for her?” Beckett asks Ben, lifting the cereal. “Because I’m going to put it away if not.”
“No. Tom probably forgot to put it up.” Ben nods to me. “You hungry, Fisher?”
Beckett rattles the box of cereal.
“I’m good. I ate a ton of Twizzlers earlier.” I watch Beckett place the cereal in a very organized kitchen cabinet.
I ease at this normalcy and look around.
I’ve seen flashes of the apartment over video call. Being here is wildly different. I don’t know why I pictured Animal House with dirty hampers of laundry and empty beer bottles. This place is spotless and smells even better than the lobby.
So Joana was wrong. There is no foul stench. Just a really attractive musk-and-pine scent wafting off Ben. Especially as he nears.
My heart jumps as he slides my backpack off my shoulder. I ignore the goose bumps forming on my arms to say, “You live in a well-guarded castle. I’m surprised they didn’t strip me to see if I’m wearingCobalt4Everpanties.”
“Did they pat you down?” Concern darkens his baby blues.
“No,” I say. “I’m just messing with you. It wasn’t that bad.” But his worry about my well-being is a flutter-kick in my lungs. It’s weird how much I like it.
Ben is staring at Beckett, and his older brother comes around the kitchen island to tell him, “Have your bodyguard escort your friends up here next time.” He puts a calming hand on Ben’sshoulder, then says on his way out, “If Eliot throws a condom at you, tell him I said—” He speaks in French.
Ben laughs from his chest, then replies in the same language. His luminous smile descends on me. It somehow makes me feel included and not on the outskirts, despite knowing zero percent of what they said.
A thought passes over me in an engulfing wave. Is this what it’s like to feel loved?Or is this just run-of-the-mill infatuation? How would I even know the difference?
Once Beckett is gone, Ben loops me in. “He said to tell Eliot that he doesn’t need to be the condom Santa, gifting protection, when he fucks too much to spare one.”
I almost smile, but I’m too stuck on how much Ben trusts me. He’s giving me so much info about his brothers—when maybe Beckett spoke in French to keep Eliot’s sex life a secret from me.
My heart keeps swelling. I follow Ben as he brings my backpack to the pull-out. Couch cushions are already stacked near the floor-length windows. The glittering, mesmeric city-view nearly siphons oxygen from my lungs.
At nighttime, everything sparkles.
Wow.
He sets my backpack on the unfurled mattress. “My brothers know we’re not together,” he says, “and that you got booted from your apartment and just needed a place to crash.”
I nod a couple times, trying not to frown at how easily he said, “We’re not together.” Of course we’re not. It’s a fact I haven’t tried to overturn. Neither has he.
I glance around. “Has he been pelting condoms at all your friends?”
“You’re the only one I’ve ever brought to their place.” Ben reenters the kitchen, not making a big deal about me being the first, but I notice how he didn’t call this apartmenthisplace.
This is still a temporary living situation for him. He hasn’t earned enough tips to pack up and find better housing in the area yet.
Ben spins around to tell me, “I’m sorry about downstairs.”
“It’s fine,” I assure, trailing after him while he nears the fridge. “Really, I should’ve just let you come meet me. Lesson learned. Having a Cobalt sidekick isn’t theworstthing in the world, especially if that Cobalt is you.”
His smile stretches to sexier levels. “I’d saywise choice, Fisher, but you’d be choosing the last picked Cobalt.”
