He takes a drink of his water. “Oh, those are old as hell. They’re from years ago. I guess I never threw them out.”
“Oh, okay.”
“If you’re worried I’m addicted to pills, I’m not.”
“I’m not.”
“I take some pain meds every now and then, but for the most part I’m good. Thank you for asking me though. Even with all that you’re dealing with right now, the fact that you can even think about me is—shit, I gotta get that.” He gives me a quick kiss, then answers his phone. The conversation is short, but whatever it entailed, I can tell he’s not happy about it.
“Bad news?” I ask when he takes his place again.
“It wasn’t good.” He stabs his chicken, takes one bite, then stands. “Sorry, babe. I can’t fuckin’ eat right now.” Grabbing his nearly full plate, he throws it in the sink, then wraps his fingers around the lip of the counter and hangs his head.
I go to him and rub his back. “What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head, but I see his knuckles turn white.
“Ben, talk to me.”
“I know better.”
“Know better about what?”
“I know better than to let the way I feel about you cloud my judgment.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face against his back. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
“I brought you here because it’s safe and I want you to feel that way, and I want you to want to stay, to be with me. I’ve been so concentrated onus, I didn’t focus on you like I should have, even when my gut’s been zapping warnings at me from the start.”
“What do you mean?”
He turns and hangs his arms over my shoulders. “I don’t know, and that’s the problem.” I don’t like the look on his face. He’s frustrated, but it’s more…guilt mixed with a hint of defeat. “Something is nagging at me, and I thought it was Poe, but I’ve been digging into his past, and there are no red flags. He’s from a seemingly normal family and has held a steady job at a bank for fifteen years. He has no criminal history, aside from an insane number of parking tickets.”
“Do you think maybe, possibly, in any way, you might be wrong about him?”
“No.” He deadpans.
“Okay, then.”
Ben slides his hands up my neck, and his eyes wander over my face. “I’ll figure it out, and I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know you will.”
“Good, because I—” His teeth crack together when his phone goes off. “Go finish eating.” He gives me a quick kiss, then answers the call.
I clear my plate, load the dishwasher, and go to the couch. Ben is pacing, barking orders into his phone. He goes to the stairwell, but his anger still echoes. I might not have a concussion, but there’s definitely something wrong with my head, because I can’t think straight.
My focus should be on how all of my belongings are destroyed and how I’m going to replace everything, but all that keeps going through my mind is Sully saying Ben was in love.
There’s no way.
Ben’s not in love with me.
Is he?
I know he likes me, but love?
“Yeah, thanks. Right. Later.” He comes back and sits in the recliner. Then a second later, he throws his phone across the room and gets up with so much force that his recliner almost tips over. “Fuck.”
