Page 79 of The Ring
You cause a bit of smoke once (five times), and people never let you live it down.
“I can’t make any promises,” I call out to him.
As I say, his disdain is not noticeable, but if it were TJ instead of Benedict, Anthony would have stayed and baked with us.
I turn back to Benedict Glounger, intending to put aside my thoughts about Anthony. “Come here and taste the mix,” I tell him. “I feel like it’s missing something.” I offer him thespoon I used to mix it, still coated in cookie dough. Just as he’s about to taste it, I pull the spoon back towards me.
He smiles and steps closer. As he does, I use my legs to nudge him forward, pulling him into an embrace. We’re so close I can feel his breath. I hold the spoon out to his mouth, and he finally tastes it.
He looks me in the eyes. “It’s perfect.” It doesn’t feel like he’s talking about the cookie dough.
“Really?” I ask.
He nods, then takes a bit of cookie dough from the spoon with his index and middle fingers, moving them towards my mouth. I take his fingers in my mouth, tasting the sweetness.
I ditch the spoon, and he kisses me.
And again.
And again.
At first, the kisses were soft and slow, but then he quickened the pace.
I feel like I’m in one of the scenes from his show.
He starts kissing my neck, and I arch my back, throwing my head back. I’m still holding him with my legs, pulling him closer to me.
I moan softly.
Benedict returns to my lips and kisses me. “I love you,” he says softly against my lips.
That stops me in my tracks, and him too. It’s as if he didn’t realise he had said it until he actually did.
I drop my legs that had him locked in an embrace, and he takes a step backwards.
An awkward silence lingers for a few seconds, though it feels like hours, until he breaks it.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Benedict says, touching his chin. “I didn’t want it to come out this way, but I do. I do… love you.”
Chapter 47
Cornelia
“Ithink I’m in love with him,” I say to Annabelle. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself repeatedly since he told me he loves me—trying to convince myself I do too. Like afake it until you make itsort of thing.
“You’re not,” Annabelle says bluntly.
I lift my nose in the air. “I could be.”
I want to be.
And he’s Benedict Glounger. Ishouldbe. It’s like I asked the universe for someone to help me move on from TJ, and it gave me the best of the litter.
We’re at NoMad in Covent Garden, having brunch and catching up. We haven’t spent much time together lately.
The day I introduced Benedict to the group, she and Laurie never arrived. Later, I found out she’d had an accident with her sewing machine and ended up stitching her own finger. I scolded her a bit for not calling me. I would have dropped everything and gone to her, but she was with Laurie. She had her Prince Charming helping her, and she didn’t need a third wheel, so I understood.
Although the accident wasn’t serious, it did set her back a bit with her school projects, hence why we haven’t seen much of each other lately.
