Because they were what I did toBenwhen we hung out. Oh, no. Ben was right: I’d been projecting.
I clapped a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry.”
He cocked an amused eyebrow at me over his shoulder. “What was that, now?”
Reluctantly, I removed my hand, finger by finger. “I said I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions, and I was wrong.”
He twisted around on the bed to face me, drawing one leg up, his other foot still resting on the floor. “Will you look at that. Hell has officially frozen over.”
I rolled my eyes, but he kept going. “I didn’t know you were physically capable of apologizing.” He leaned over and rested a hand on my forehead. “You’re not feverish?”
“Ha. Get it all out. I know I deserve it. Me and mymessy bullshit.”
Ben cracked a smile—then abruptly shivered, rubbing his arms.
“Oh, shit, you weren’t lying about being cold.” I’d felt kind of guilty taking the comfortable bed while Ben slept on the couch—which I suspected was barely long enough to fit his tall frame, anyway, on top of being cold. “Here.” I lifted the comforter. “If you want to warm up.”
Ben eyed the comforter, then eyed me. He didn’t move.
“Oh,please. It’s just for a minute. Then you can go back to your freezing wasteland in the living room. I promise to restrain myself from so much asthinkingabout touching you. I’ll have to use all my willpower, but by God, I will keep my hands off your devastating body.”
Ben rolled his eyes so hard I hoped for a moment they’d get stuck there. “Fine. Just for a minute.” Then he climbed up the bed and slid under the comforter, drawing it up to his chest.
We lay there, side by side, staring up at the ceiling. I was deathly still, not wanting to move and accidentally brush him. I could feel the heat from his body even with the distance.
Ben sighed. “I hate to admit it, but this is so much better.”
“Good.” I was trying to get my breathing under control, but my heart and my lungs were contracting way too fast, like my body thought we were in an entirely different kind of situation.
“Ben?”
He shifted in my direction. “Yes?”
“I’m not wearing any pants.”
I could feel him stiffen beside me. “Oh?”
“I forgot to mention it before you got in. You know I don’t like to sleep in pants. They’re restricting.”
Ben nodded, the movement slight. “Right. You catfished me. I should have seen that coming, so that’s on me. Just...stay on your side of the bed.”
“Ben?”
This time he turned so his whole body faced me, bending his elbow and resting his head in his hand. “What is this, Lee’s confessional hour?”
“The reason I was worried about Sarah cheating on you was because I still feel guilty about how things ended between us. What I did to you.”
He was quiet for a painfully long time, during which I blinked anxiously at the ceiling. Then, finally, he said, “That’s actually nice to hear.”
I twisted to face him, mirroring him with my elbow bent, head resting in my hand.
His face was serious, eyes cast down to the empty stretch of bed between us. “The night I found out you cheated, it was almost like we were competing to see who could piss the other off more. Win the breakup or something. There was a lot of yelling. I know I’m guilty of it—actually, the guiltiest—but still. We didn’t leave a lot of room for apologies.”
I nodded. That’s exactly how it had been. Connor had run off and told Ben we’d slept together, and Ben had confronted me. I’d known it was going to happen, known the truth would eventually come out—hell, part of me was anticipating it. But still, when I was faced with the reality of having to confirm it, having to watch Ben transform, before my eyes, into the cutting, cruel version of himself, who was so good at punishing his enemies, my brain went into self-protective overdrive. Instead of trying to smooth things over, I’d responded to his acerbic anger with anger of my own. Which only escalated things.
Example ten thousand and one of my self-destructive nature. I was always doing the exact opposite of what would get me what I wanted. Doing the exact things that were going to cut me deepest in the end.
Ben drew a breath, and I realized his eyes were lingering on my face, watching my thoughts play out. “I guess I’ve always wondered if you were even sorry you did it. I kind of...assumed you weren’t.”
