I huffed. "Best friend? Really?" The hummingbird in my chest nearly broke its neck. But then he added: "No benefits. Don't worry. I don't want to mess it up."
And just like that, he killed him.
For a second I stood there in silence. I literally just told him I didn't want him, so technically it made no sense that it would hurt me.
And yet, it did. And then I thought maybe, maybe he was the sane one. I'd sworn off relationships for a year and as much as I wanted to sleep with Ben, it was out of the question. If women fall in love after sex due to oxytocin, then sex with him would probably rearrange all my neurotransmitters, convince me we were some doomed epic worth dying for.
"Deal." I forced my voice to sound certain. "Best friends, but benefits are off the table. Strict policy. Got it?"
He gave a long snort, that kind that said he was suddenly trying to sell it to himself too. "Yeah. Totally fine by me."
His little finger shot in between us while his face remained all solemn and sharp angles.
"Pinky swear?" I laughed and he nodded.
"Fine. Pinky swear," I said, hooking mine with his.
Looking retrospectively, I think we both knew nothing about us had ever been fine or strictly anything. But the waves shimmered at our feet like they sealed the deal, and we wanted to believe it.
"Let's take a swim?" I blurted like an idiot. The water was freezing and I was wrapped in his blazer, which he immediately clocked and raised an amused brow.
"I don't swim," he said then, his gaze unexpectedly heavy. "I mean, I can. I just don't like it."
"Why? Is that the one thing you're not good at, so you avoid it?" I teased him.
It didn't crack him. His expression stayed the same, something shadowed behind it.
"No. I almost drowned as a kid."
"Oh, shit. I'm sorry," I said, feeling like an even bigger idiot.
He shook his head, smiling faintly. "It's fine. I've just had a big respect for water since. Especially oceans. They don't end."
"How old were you?"
"Seven." He gazed out toward the Pacific, and I saw it in his face—how that was the exact moment that shaped his life. We all have one.
Later, he told me the rest. How Mara, five at the time, had run into the surf to grab a doll while he was supposed to be watching her and her small hand disappeared in the waves. How he went in after her, fought the current, almost drowning himself, but managed to pull her out. Screamed until his throatwas raw while no one was around. Then a stranger, a medic, brought her back to life in front of his eyes. That was the day Ben decided to become a doctor, because no seven-year-old boy should feel so hopeless while his sister lay in his arms like a broken fawn.
"God, that's traumatic," I said as we walked back uphill after he ordered me a ride home.
"It's been many years now."
"I know, but certain things don't go away," I said and bumped him a little. "But thank you for telling me, best friend."
He gave me a subtle smile as the car pulled up, and said he needed to walk more, clear his head.
Suddenly, I wanted him to kiss me so bad my lips felt raw from biting them.
He reached in, closed the space between us and—didn't. Kept out deal and only pinched my nose.
"We'll do this again soon," he said, like a warning and promise both at once.
I got in the car and watched him in the rearview mirror—half-naked, motionless—getting smaller, but somehow impossibly expanding inside me.
?
"Em?" Richard's voice pulls me back into present.
