Ben strode in and kicked the door shut with one foot. “I was considering the meeting because I thought I could make things better with Slittery.”
I leaped to my feet. “Oh, right. In that case, can’t have me around. Not if you’re actually trying tofixthe situation. What, you think I’m not good enough at my job? Unprofessional?”
I’d been stupid to trust him. Professionally and personally. He’d betrayed me so quickly!
Ben shook his head and laughed, yanking at his bow tie to loosen it. “Slittery’s a misogynist, which I know isn’t news to you, but, Stoner—he loathes the idea that a woman like Dakota is going to end his industry. He hates you by association. Yes, it’s shitty, but he won’t even come to the table if you’re there. I thought if I met with him alone, and got him to see reason—maybe find something else he wanted—I could save the bill. It was a Hail Mary.”
I stepped closer so we were only an inch apart. I wanted him to see the look in my eyes, see how much I meant what I was saying. “I don’t care if your intentions were good. You were playing on Slittery’s terms, which meant I was going to get cut out of a professional situation I deserved to be part of.”
Ben’s jaw clenched. His blue eyes burned. “You’re right,” he admitted, voice thick. “I’m sorry. Never again.”
“Well, we’re neck and neck for the win, right? And the nice thing about doing things my way is that kissing each other doesn’t change anything else between us. So you do you, and I’ll do me. I don’t need your pity inclusion. I’ll win this fair and square.”
“Fuck the competition,” Ben said. “We’ve been a team for a long time, and you know it.”
“You can’t make a fool of me.” The words tumbled out, daggers aimed at his heart. “I know how much you care about winning, how at the end of the day, it’s you against the world. I know you don’t trust me. You’ve said it a million times. So why would I believe you?”
Ben wanting to meet with Slittery out of naked self-interest, I could understand. Like Sarah said, a case ofBen Laderman vs. everyone else. But Ben following me around the Governor’s Mansion apologizing and telling me we’re a team, after going to great lengths to clarify he didn’t trust me enough to have anything more than physical with me—fine, fair—thatwas what didn’t compute. Everything about him was confusing, and I didn’t do confusing anymore.
“Stoner, I trust you at work. Implicitly. Outside of work—” Ben took a deep breath. He stepped close, so I moved back. “It’s not...about trust. I’m afraid of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I tried not to think of my own fear, the image of him with a sword at my throat, and kept moving backward until my legs hit the rose-covered bed. I fell back onto it, scrambling to sit upright.
He gripped the bedpost, leaning over me. “I tried to deny it, to tell myself I wanted to come back to Texas because of my dream of turning it blue.” He shook his head. “But the truth is, I couldn’t stop thinking about you when Sarah suggested we move.”
He knelt in front of me and reached for my hands, pressing my palms flat against his chest like I was stanching a bleeding wound. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I got the job with the governor. I pushed for the Green Machine bill because it was the right thing to do, but also because I knew you were involved, and there was a chance I’d get to work with you. Fucked up, right? For a million reasons. Because of Sarah, and—Do you know what it’s like to want theone thingyou’re not allowed to have? Theoneperson you know you can’t be with—to think of her all the time? I invented a hundred new forms of torture, Stoner, a thousand ways of convincing myself wanting you would pass. But it never did. Why do I have perfect control over myself, except when it comes to you? See? The things I’m capable of doing—you terrify me.”
I did know what it felt like to want the one person I couldn’t have, but as soon as I recognized it, a huge, yawning chasm opened inside me, a well I’d once discovered was bottomless and never wanted to confront again. I pulled my hands from his chest and lunged off the bed, stepping around him. “We said no feelings, Ben.”
“I remember,” he said roughly, rising to his feet. “Let’s say I’m not talking about feelings. Let’s say I’m talking about wanting to touch you in the middle of a conference room when both our bosses are watching. Stoner—are you seriously walking away from me again?”
There it was. His words struck a long-buried wound. I spun to face him. “Like you walked away fromme? Like how I kept calling you, and texting you, and coming to your apartment, and got nothing in return? Youerasedme. You got in your car and you left for California and you didn’t say anything to me for five whole years. Do you know how desperate that made me feel? You talk about not wanting to repeat what I put you through. Well, what about what you putmethrough?”
And there it was: my dirty little secret. Ben had every right to shut me out and leave me five years ago, after what I did to him. In fact, I should’ve expected both the leaving and the icy reception because my father had left our family for Michelle, and I myself had punished him with silence, so there was precedent for both. But the truth was, I still couldn’t believe Ben had actually done it to me. This was why apologizing to him hadn’t left me feeling like we’d settled our account. There was more to make up for. I’d struck the first blow back then, but he’d hurt me right back.
Ben hurt me.I’d been so caught up in guilt over what I’d done, I’d never allowed myself to sit with it.
Ben’s eyes were stormy. “I thought youwantedme to leave. I thought I was doing you a favor. I figured you cheating was your way of getting out—your way of ending us because you weren’t happy with me anymore.”
“No,” I cried. “I wastoohappy with you.”
He stared, visibly shocked. Then, before I knew what was happening, he was closing the distance between us.
“What are you doing?” I took a step back and tripped over a rocking chair, stumbling backward.
Ben caught me with an arm around my waist. His gaze was too intimate, striking lightning down my body, but I didn’t look away. I was mesmerized by his frown, by the way his eyebrows knit together to form a grave expression.
“I’m doing what I should have done five years ago, when you got scared and pushed me away,” he said. “I’m coming closer.”
“No,” I said, feeling desperate. “No feelings.”
“Fine. I promise.” His voice was hoarse. “Just let me.” His eyes dropped to my mouth.
No feelings: he promised. This was just a taste of what it felt like to be close.
The instant I nodded, he cupped my face and kissed me. The kiss was drenched in need, his lips insistent until I opened my mouth for him.
“Ben,” I breathed, drawing back and shaking my head. “You asshole. You went away and grew up.”
