Page 68 of Because of You
“My eyes are up here, Hal.” I jerk my head up to see Ben smirking at me.
Heat floods my cheeks. “Um, I was just, um…” Yeah, I have nothing.
Ben full out grins and takes two steps towards me, grabbing my waist and pulling me flush against him. My hands find his pecs, and he lowers his head and captures my mouth with his in a kiss so intense it makes my head spin and my skin spark with electricity. He lifts his mouth from mine just far enough to whisper, “Look all you want, Hallie girl. I’m all yours.” Then he takes my mouth again in one more kiss before stepping back and doing his own perusal. His eyes are a happy blue as they slide down my body and back up to meet mine. There is a new lightness to him that must have come from finally having his conversation with his dad. It looks so good on him.
“Hallie, you are gorgeous. I could look at you all day.” God, I adore every inch of this sweet man.
“Nope, Benji. You promised me a date, so we’re doing that. Can I know where we’re going now?”
“Not yet. You get to be in suspense for another ten minutes. But I’m sure you’ll guess it on the way.” He drops two mini-Reese’s cups into my hand and then leads me to his SUV. He opens the door for me, and I slide in. I go to reach for my seatbelt, but Ben beats me to it, pulling the belt and leaning over me to click it into place. Then he drops a kiss on my cheek and closes the door. I am so stunned by that small gesture that I don’t notice the to-go cup of iced coffee sitting in the cup holder until Ben has already gotten in on his side and started the engine. He slips on a pair of wayfarers, upping his hotness factor at least ten points, and pulls out of his parking spot.
“That’s for you.” He gestures at the cup. “Iced latte. Thought you might need a caffeine boost.”
“Thanks, Benji. How did you know?”
He just shrugs. “You had a big day today. Figured you either forgot or ran out of time to get your own.”
He’s right, of course. I did forget. I pick up the cup and take a sip. “This is amazing. Coffee Tree?” Ben knows that’s my favorite coffee shop in the neighborhood.
“No, I made it.”
“You what?”
“I made it for you. Put it in a to-go cup and brought it with me. You don’t always like iced lattes from coffee shops. You once told me they don’t always get the milk to espresso ratio right, or they put in too much Splenda. You said you like to make it yourself if you can. And I can. My girl gets the coffee she likes.”
I turn and just stare at him. “You remember that?”
He reaches over and lays his hand on my thigh, grasping just hard enough to be possessive. Then he shoots me a look filled with something I don’t have enough time to name before he turns back to the road.
“Hallie, I have known you my entire life, and there is not a single thing about you that I don’t remember.”
Ben lets that hang in the air and we lapse into a comfortable silence. His hand is still on my leg, and my entire body is buzzing at the contact. I am so distracted by it that I almost forget to watch where we’re going. When we pass a familiar yellow arrow nailed to a tree on South Braddock Avenue, I know for sure.
“We’re going to Kennywood?” I squeal.
Bouncing in my seat, I lean over and kiss his cheek, then lay my hand over his on my leg and squeeze, thrilled with him and this night. Kennywood is an old amusement park right outside of Pittsburgh that has been around since the late nineteen hundreds. Every Pittsburgh kid has memories of summer days and nights spent at Kennywood, playing the old amusement park games and riding the rides until our parents dragged us out of the park. Ben and I both love roller coasters, and Kennywood has some of the oldest roller coasters in the world.
When we were finally tall enough to ride them, Rollercoaster Mania was born. The rules were easy: ride every roller coaster in the park twice. We did it every single time we went to Kennywood. Since no one else in either of our families likes rollercoasters the same way we do, it was always just us, running together from ride to ride. Those days are some of my best childhood memories. I haven’t been to Kennywood in years, and it feels exactly right that the first time I go back in a long time is with Ben.
Ben flips his hand over, lacing his fingers with mine. “It was worth keeping the secret just to see the grin on your face, Hal. You think we can handle Rollercoaster Mania in our old age?”
“Who are you calling old? We can handle this. Let’s fucking go.”
We absolutely cannot handle this. Somehow the park isn’t all that crowded even though it’s a gorgeous late August night. This means there are barely any lines for the rides. The downside to this is we have ridden six rollercoasters basically back-to-back. At first, it was a blast. Holding hands and running from ride to ride. Counting the people in front of us to strategize how to get the front car. Screaming our brains out as we plunged down hundred-foot drops and whipped around double loops. But as we stand in line for the seventh coaster, neither of us are feeling our best, and I am regretting all my life choices.
“So, it’s possible I was wrong, and we are, in fact, too old for this.”
“No shit, Hal. I think it’s safe to say Rollercoaster Mania is best left to the teenage versions of us, with more efficient vestibular systems.”
I giggle and lean back against him. “I love that you know the word vestibular. It’s so you.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and leans down to kiss the side of my neck. It’s such a time warp to be here with Ben like this. As kids, Ben, Julie, and I ran wild around this park. Ben and I rode all the roller coasters while Julie waited for us at the exit of each one. Then the three of us would go ride all the rest of the rides together. Looking around, I can practically see the younger versions of us in this exact line, chattering about everything and nothing, waiting for our turn to ride. Just one more in a lifetime of shared memories. Leaning back against his chest, with his strong arms wrapped around me, I make a silent wish for a million more.
“If it wasn’t the Racer, I would say let’s just cut our losses at six but…” Ben trails off, and I know he wants me to make him get on the ride. Besides me, no one loves a tradition more than Ben Parker.
“No. We can’t leave without the Racer. I know we’re old, and motion sickness is a thing and whatever, but get your shit together, Benji, because we’re doing this. It’s tradition. I’m riding red.”
Ben grins and kisses me again. “Of course you are. It’s not tradition if you don’t ride red.”
