Page 7 of Burn Bright
I try not to imagine being held by him. I felt it for point-two-seconds tonight, and I’m worried I’ll want more wheneveryonealready wants so much more out of him. How much can a person like him even really give to someone like me?
“I’ll probably head out,” I tell him. “I’ve got some stuff I need to get to.” Like sleep. Me and my pillow—also friends.
Does he look dejected? Or is that wishful thinking—thatmaybehe wanted to hang out with me for longer?
“Ben!” his friend calls.
“I’ll find you in the kitchen, Reece!” he shouts back while only looking at me, his gaze rooting me here. It’s one of the hottest sensations that slips into my body, the feeling of beingkeptandgraspedwith a single intrusive, caring stare.
Their footsteps pad away.
I intake a short breath and tuck a strand of blonde hair behind my ear. “Catch you later?” I hear my doubt.
A part of me does believe this friendship is an illusion. It’s not that I’ve been met with total misfortune in my life—I’m at adreamcollege, for fuck’s sake—but it’s still hard to accept beautiful spots inside my reality that I didn’t work for. Having good things fall into my lap…that rarely happens.
Ben likely hears my cynicism too.
Is that why he lingers? Does he wish I believed in him more? My stomach backflips, and I realize how much I want to believe this won’t end here between us.
He glances at his phone. I wonder if he’ll text me or if there’ll be a new wave of tumbleweeds, and then he says so suddenly, so abruptly, “I need a job.”
I’m thrown off.
I nod slowly, seeing he’s messing with me. “Right. I also need a job, but for real. I used to give drumming lessons in Philly to this snarky little prep school kid, and I’m not sure a gig will be as easy to find in New York.”
“I’m for real,” Ben says fast, eyeing the door, then me. As if this is a secret.
I shift my weight in confusion. “But you’re…rich.”
“I’m broke.”
My jaw is on the floor. “Whaa…how? Is that even possible? Don’t you have a trust fund?”
“Our trust funds aren’t limitless. I’ll explain later.” He’s running out of time with me. “But if you find anything worth applying for jobwise, let me know. Maybe we can work together.”
Worktogether…?
He wants to work with me now? Maybehe’shit his head. Because no one, and I mean,no onehas acted thrilled to spend more than an hour with me. Unless I’m on my knees.
But Ben isn’t asking for a blow job.
He’s asking forfriendship.The one thing I’ve never really given out.
“Maybe, yeah,” I say in one trapped breath. I think I would want to work alongside Ben Cobalt. Who wouldn’t?
One question is plaguing me as he goes to the door, adding distance between us, and I call out, “Who knows?”
“Who knows I’m broke?”
“Yeah. Who’d you tell?”
“Just you.”
My brows catapult, and my lips part but only breath comes out.
Just me?
Just me?
