as easy as the smiles and chuckles that followed.
Bull sank on his bed, on top of the covers. Sleep would likely elude him tonight. There was no way his mind would settle after spending a few hours with Ben.
He slung an arm behind his head and sighed. Ben was sunshine—bright and beaming—and Bull wanted to bask in that light and roll around until he was scorched by Ben’s fire. His smile was multi-watt and the way he bit his bottom lip shot a bolt of heat straight to Bull’s balls in zero seconds flat. There was a brightness to him that hadn’t been tarnished by life and manifested as innocence with a healthy dose of mischief.
It was different. Honest.
He doubted Ben realized the power he wielded upon others. But it was a force that tapped into Bull’s primal, deeply hard-coded DNA. The need to safeguard that untarnished spark in Ben awakened that protector-chromosome in Bull like a raging beast on steroids. Others were equally affected and surrounded Ben like a surrogate family. Bull noticed it in Julian’s watchful eye and Shaw’s big-brother-like guardianship. Calvin’s intentions were still a mystery, but it was obvious he felt the need to check in on Ben’s safety.
Regardless of the protective entourage and its potentially suffocating nature, Ben smiled and thanked those around him, grateful for how much they cared.
Bull blew out a heavy breath. His mom had always told him he would fall hard and fast. With every failed relationship, he had called bullshit. Knowing how easily he had been able to walk away. With Ben, the beginnings of a possible friendship were already throwing his entire mind and body into a tempest of emotions and need. He welcomed the internal chaos, hoping it was mutual and that it paved the road to Potentialville.
He reached for his phone on the nightstand when it pinged with a new message. Swiping across his screen, he read the new text and swallowed heavily.
How old are you?
He had exchanged phone numbers with Ben, but he hadn’t expected a text so soon. And definitely not with that question. Wincing, he typed his reply, then sat back in bed. His thumb hovered over the send button. He wasn’t kidding himself. Being older by a few years wouldn’t be an issue for most, but he was more than a decade older than Ben and obviously had a hell of a lot more experience. It didn’t faze him, but not much did. He just didn’t have a clue how Ben felt about it.
“Fuck it,” he mumbled as he pressed the button to send his message. Thirty-eight. Those few seconds before the next ping seemed like an eternity.
I’m 24. Is that weird for you?
That was about the ballpark he had expected. No. You?
Not even a little bit.
He chuckled to himself and didn’t get a chance to respond before the next ping sounded.
Are you smiling?
Hell yes, he was smiling. Yes.
I like your dimple. :)
Bull’s smile widened as he typed his reply. Are you flirting with me?
Is it working?
The laughter bubbled up his throat and echoed in his empty bedroom as his words from earlier were repeated. There was that spark of mischief he had seen in Ben. He didn’t have a chance to respond before another message pinged.
Do you have to get up early?
No. He had a sudden appreciation for lazy Sundays. He added a second part to his message before sending. You?
Only for breakfast. Matt has a schedule.
What are the rules on using your phone? he asked in his next message, unsure if there was some curfew or something in place that Ben might be penalized for violating.
They don’t restrict my phone use as long as I don’t get written up.
Before he had a chance to respond, another text came in.
They’re less strict with my phone because I need it. They even let me have one with a camera just in case.
That perked him right up. For video calls? Bull’s mind wandered, cut off by a quick follow-up ping.
Texting is easier. Tough to hold the phone when I need to sign.
You could video chat and text at the same time. And he could see Ben as he bit his lip and his cheeks burned red.
No.
He sat up in bed, scowling, wondering why Ben’s reply had barely taken a second. The analytical side of his brain picked up on a lot from visual cues and body language, but he didn’t need to use his expertise to detect the discomfort screaming from the short reply.