“Because that is not happening. So what? I like you. Doesn’t change the fact I don’t do commitment. Doesn’t change the fact I’m not going anywhere and doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
“So, we are just friends, right? Meaning I’m free to fuck whoever I want?”
“Yes.” He nods. “Meaning we can both fuck whoever we want.” He side eyes me. “But lucky for me, you only want to fuck me right now.” His lips curve into a smug smile of his own. “Don’t think I couldn’t tell that you’ve never cum so hard as you did last night with my fat cock buried deep inside of you. You want to try to push me away? Do your best, baby. I told you before and you’ve now seen it firsthand. I know how to take a punch.”
Turning my attention to the world outside as Ben continues to weave through LA traffic, I sigh. Getting rid of Ben isn’t going to be easy. He is more determined than I thought, but he underestimates me. I’m not going to just let him stick around. I’ll push him to his breaking point if that’s what I have to do.
Anything to release him from the burdens I bring to the table. Because logically he should want nothing to do with me. He should be running for the hills after last night.
It feels good that he hasn’t yet, but it’s not fair to either of us. I was dealt a role in life, just like him, and sadly for the both of us, our roles don’t mix.
So, I will not stop pushing until Ben disappears from my life completely.
TWENTY-TWO
I smoke a cigarette outside,ignoring the fact Aaron has called me twice and we are ten minutes late.
Prue hasn’t said much after trying to egg me on in the car and failing. I didn’t really want to confess that I had a thing for her, but whatever. Part of me was hoping she’d get the fucking hint and stop trying to push me away, but I know that’s not going to be the case.
She has herself convinced that she needs to go back to that jerk and now all I can do is try to keep her from doing that, just long enough for her to come to her senses.
Her arms are folded over her chest as she stares everywhere but at me.
My phone buzzes again and I see Wes’s name blink at me this time. I can’t not take his call. After everything he has done for me, I know better than to not answer when he calls. I sigh, hitting answer.
“Hey,” I say into the phone, and Prue finally looks at me.
“Where the fuck are you? Aaron is pissed. He thinks you stood him up,” Wes says.
“I’m outside having a fucking cigarette. Jesus, it’s only like 12:10.”
“Ben, are you trying to break up the band? Is this your way of letting us know that if we don’t play by your terms, you’ll destroy us?”
That is a wild accusation. Insane really. Why would I want to destroy the band I’m desperately trying to hold on to? It’s not like I have much else going for me. My eyes linger on Prue, and I realize that maybe the band not touring for a bit would give me more time with her. Though if I had to, I’d take her on tour with me. Drag her across the country so she doesn’t crawl back to hell.
I can’t say that to Wes, at least not right now. Obviously, everyone just thinks I’m acting out. I’m sure there is a secret text chain where they complain about me.
I’ve become the problem child. Always have been, but they no longer enjoy my antics.
“No,” I say firmly. “I’ve just had a long fucking night and I need some god damn nicotine before going to take his verbal lashing.”
Prue’s face drops and I roll my eyes. Mentioning having a long night was the wrong thing to say in front of her. I don’t need her feeling any more guilty than she already does.
“You could’ve answered his calls,” Wes says. “Jesus, Ben. Are you using again? I’m growing more concerned by the day.”
“Funny way of showing it,” I reply before I can stop myself. I do not need to make Wes feel bad for being in love. He has earned himself more happiness than he will ever get.
“Not answering the question isn’t helping your case.”
“I’m not fucking using. Jesus Christ. What about your pretty little girlfriend? Has she put a needle in her arm recently? What about her fingers down her throat?” He doesn’t reply, and I’mlosing my patience with everything around me, but snapping at Wes is a new low for me. I’m just angry and tired and in so much pain I kind of wish I was dead. Not to mention the memories tugging at the back of my head that came from seeing that photo in Prue’s hands. “I’m sorry, Wes. I’m really sorry, okay? I might have a mild concussion and broken ribs. It has been a really long 24 hours.”
Prue nods her head with a smug little smile on her face. I wish that smile didn’t make me want to kiss her so fucking bad, but something about the way she looks when copping an attitude makes my insides melt.
When Wes doesn’t reply for a moment, I know what I said must have really hurt him. He isn’t the kind of guy to snap back, he is more of the type to stew with the anger and come back with a well-adjusted response, which I hate but could really use right now. He is the last person I want to hurt in the world. I can’t afford to lose him.
“What is going on with you, Ben?” he finally asks.
“Nothing,” I reply. “I’m just an asshole. Sorry you got stuck with me.”
