Page 50 of The Destined SEAL
My whole body is tense when he pulls out. I don’t dare open my eyes. I listen to his harried breaths mixing with my softwhimpers. More tears come as I try to squelch the tightness in my chest, the hurt he’s caused.
“Harper,” he says.
I hear the apology in my name.
He’s looking away from me when I open my eyes and sit up. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I wipe another tear away lest he see what he’s caused. He sobs and retreats to my bathroom.
I scoot off the bed, sore and terrified of what just happened, and walk in behind him. Ben is bent over the counter, forearms pressing on the granite, the ultimate picture of male prowess. Naked, stunning, muscles coiled, and chest heaving. He’s also a man completely destroyed. A stray delicate petal on a steel flower.
“Fuck,” Ben hisses. “I’m fucked up, Harper. So fucked up.”
I stay silent but stand next to him, the mirror reflecting our images in an unfamiliar way. Ben meets my eyes in the mirror. “How many times have I transfixed your face on Norah? At least a million. Only the times when it matters? When I was fucking her? Definitely when I was marrying her. When it counts? This is my punishment from Norah after death. Seeing her sad, second-best face anytime you’re in front of me.” The man I love transforms into a ghost.
“Oh my god,” I sob. “I can’t do this. You shouldn’t have come here, Ben. I love you. I do,” I whisper, grabbing his arm. His gaze darts to where our skin meets in the reflection. “I’m not sure we can get over this. Or you need more time. This is breaking my heart. Fucking me isn’t going to bring back your dead wife. I won’t do that for you, and I’ll do a lot.”
One side of his mouth quirks up. “The heartbreak club. At least we’ll be in it together. Fucking you helps me. It does. It’s the only thing I can think of.”
My stomach roils as my heart splinters.
I point to my bed. “I’ll never do that with you again. That’s a promise. I’m not some toy.” Swallowing hard, I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling too exposed.
“I need to go,” Ben says, brushing past me to get his clothes. “I’m sorry. I am. This was a mistake. I’m a weak bastard.” Shaking his head, he does look remorseful. He doesn’t apologize for using my body as a Norah vessel, and the thought makes me shiver. “I’m out of my mind.” He mutters under his breath, something about how he can’t believe what he’s done and how he needs to shackle himself to his house.
I grab my T-shirt from the floor and notice the bloody, mangled sheets.
“Can we forget tonight even happened?” he asks, finally speaking loud enough for me to hear each word. I can tell he’s not going to try to convince me of his point of view, like my Ben would. He’s going to ask this of me.
“You’d ask that of me?” I ask, biting my lip to stifle tears.
He sighs. “My best friend would forget.”
When he gets to the front of my house, I open the door for him. “Maybe I can’t be your best friend and your fuck buddy at the same time. You said you didn’t need a friend. You didn’t need that version of me.” I stifle a hiccupped sob and pinch my lips together. “I’ll forget more than tonight. That’s a promise,” I reply, shutting the door in his sad, haggard face.
I drown out the night with a stiff drink and pass out in the sheets that prove I won’t forget that quickly.
Or ever.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ben
Everyone hasthose few mistakes they’ll never live down. Mine are the unforgivable sort that stick around even when I’m not thinking about them directly. They influence everyday decisions and the way I approach the world. Two months have passed since I crashed Harper’s house…and heart. She texted me once to make sure I wasn’t going to be around for one of our parents’ dinners. I tried to get her to talk to me then, but she refused, telling me some bullshit excuse about being busy. There’s no way I can ask for forgiveness for that night. I was out of my mind.
I could only think of her and how much I missed her. Blind love. Furious lust. Pent-up feelings for denying my mind and cock what it desperately desired. I missed her friendship, sure, but most of all I missed her understanding. I knew damn well if I went there she’d understand and give in to anything I wanted. The lonely greed won out.
I’m driving to my parents’ house, trying not to think of this shit, but when my mind isn’t occupied at work, these thoughts are on repeat. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. That saying is the motherfucking soundtrack to my life. I took everything for granted in every area of my life except for mycareer. That will always be there, unfortunate as it may be. Everything else is a loss.
No wife or family. No best friend to call. I have my brothers. A promise to make the world a safer place. My only life goal at the moment. After I pull into their drive, I vow not to let my morose demeanor show. I put the front on like a mask—an actor perfecting the skill of convincing the people he loves that he’s fine. I walk slowly up to the door, not looking left for fear of seeing Harper’s parents, and knock once before opening the front door.
My mother rushes me. “Benjamin. Oh, it’s so good to see you, honey. Why haven’t you come sooner? I know you weren’t working last weekend. We aren’t getting any younger, honey.” Her arms are around me in a vise grip. “You’ve gotten bigger!” she exclaims.
“I’ve had more free time at the gym,” I tell her, grinning over her shoulder at my dad. He’s watching the exchange with an amused smile. There’s no telling Mom anything. “I’ve missed you, too. What do you have cooking today?”
“Oh, I have so much cooking. You’re never going to want to leave. Mr. and Mrs. Rosehall should be here any second.” That’s when I start to sweat. Like a sixteen-year-old boy caught having sex on a living room sofa. “Go help your dad out back. I need you two to wipe down all the furniture on the patio.”
Swallowing, I glance out the side window. “Oh, just the Rosehalls tonight?” I ask, keeping my tone level. “Harper isn’t home this weekend, is she?” It will be a fucking disaster if she is. I wanted to talk to her on our turf. If anything unfolds here, it’s going to get messy. I panic, an unfamiliar feeling of dread and excitement.
The doorbell rings, and next Harper walks through, a bottle of wine tucked under one arm and a pie in the other. Her parents trail behind, their faces void of smiles. “Ben,” Harper says,raising one brow. “I saw your truck out front.” Not even giving me a passing glance, she greets my mother with a kiss on the cheek and approaches my dad with a joke and a hug.
