automatic. “I love you, too, Ben.”
He merely shakes his head in frustration.
“No, Hallie. I think I might be in love with you. No. I know that I am in love with you. And I have been for a long time.” He groans. “Damn it. I think I just said that aloud.”
“Ben…”
I stop myself before I can say anything else, because whatever it is that I was planning to say isn’t good enough for this incredible person who’s picked me up more times than I can even count now, who I love more than almost anything in the whole world, who’s been my best friend since we were kids and who saves my life a little more every day.
“You still love Jensen. I get it. I do. Kind of. He’s a fucking asshole, but you love him anyways. My being hopelessly in love with you doesn’t mean that we have to stop being friends. It doesn’t mean that we have to lose each other. It just means that I need a break, that’s all. I think I just need a break from having to look into your face every single day and to think that there’s nothing I can do to ever make you love me like you love him.”
He looks over his shoulder at me and shrugs helplessly. I want so badly to tell him that none of that is true, that I no longer love Chris, but I think we both know that would be a lie.
“Ben…”
“Stop. Don’t say it.”
I stand up and press my hand against his cheek. He holds it there for a second longer than I can handle before he stands up and wraps me in a hug.
“Go to New York, Hallie. Go and hang out with Sam and dance all night and play cards and maybe go to class every once in a blue moon and most importantly, get over the asshole. I’ll be here. I’ll wait for you.”
I break away from his grasp and hold him an arm’s length away from me. “I don’t deserve you.”
“No, you certainly don’t.” He manages a quick grin. “Don’t forget that, okay?”
He leans in to brush his lips against my cheek, but he lingers a nanosecond too long, enough for me to feel the quick pulsations of his heated skin against mine. I turn my face to his in sudden surprise and just as I start to break free from him, he leans down and touches his lips to mine, just once, enough for me to smell the chlorine from our morning swim that’s still sticking to his hair. Hesitantly, I push my lips against his again, needing to derive some comfort from his closeness.
It’s nothing like kissing Chris. Ben’s lips are less demanding, asking questions instead of answering them, and I’m lost and confused when he finally breaks away, curling long strands of my hair between his fingers.
“We can’t do this, kiddo.”
“I know.” Even as I say it, I knot my hands into his t-shirt, letting them bunch the fabric. He lets out a low groan and slides his hands through my hair, unknotting the curls slowly, one by one, staring into my eyes as I start to run my fingernails up his chest. I lean in for another kiss and let myself forget about everything else in the strength of his arms.
Eventually, he breaks away, panting heavily.
“Hallie, you need to stop this before I can’t.”
“I don’t want to.”
It’s true. I’m not selfless, or charitable enough, to care about the cost—to him, to me. It feels too good to feel his worshipping hands against my skin, to be secure in the knowledge that he would never hurt me.
As he begins to gently strip away my last pieces of clothing, I know irrevocably that I love him, that I will always love him. I have to believe that it will be enough, because I can’t bring myself to hurt someone that I love so much again.
Maybe it’s not the passionate fire that I once had, but maybe this is better, the slow, gentle kind of love that washes you in warmth and light. The biggest fires burn everything in their path, and I’ve had enough of that. Maybe this, a slow-burning flame that rises and falls but never entirely dies down, is exactly what I need.
So, I respond to his touch, arching my back and moving silently against him, letting him possess me, body and soul, letting him take away the endless ache in the place where I