Page 7 of Beneath the Helmet
I’m not tired yet, but I should probably try to sleep. Maybe I'll go running tomorrow after I lift. Might as well take advantage if I’m in the mood for it since I haven’t run for fun in a long time.
Closing up for the night, I lock the house doors, shut the windows and go upstairs to my bedroom where I poorly navigate the dark, tripping over myself trying to feel around for my bedside lamp. The small chain fumbles into my grasp and with aclick, a low yellow light floods the small space by my bed, giving me just enough light to change into my matching white silk tank top and shorts.
My cool silk bedsheets whisper on my skin as I crawl under the covers, but the shadow of an object flying in the air onto the floor catches my attention.
Shoot! My phone. I completely forgot about it.
Reaching my arm out, I pause, my fingertips hovering right above it.
Oh, right.
The previous conversation with Ben floods my brain, sending butterflies into my chest.
Inhaling a deep breath for courage, I quickly flip it over. My notifications show three unread texts from Benny Boy and a missed call.
Small bouts of guilt for ignoring him and forgetting about the conversation surface until I remember he’s done the same thing to me before. In fact, he’s done it way more to me than I've ever done to him. The guilt subsides at my epiphany.
Yeah, he can deal with it like I’ve had to in the past. He’ll live.
I swipe up and tap his messages, curious about what he said.
The top corner of my phone shows 12:30 AM. Is he still awake? Do I text him or call him back? Would that be weird this late?
Ugh.
What is happening? Why’s my brain doing this?
Calm down brain, this is not that big of a deal, get a grip.
Expelling a breath, I lay flat and pull the covers up, keeping my elbows outside the blanket to tuck me in. I stare at my phone clutched in my hands hovering over me, wondering what to do and knowing that the longer I wait, the more likely he won't answer because he’ll be asleep. Would I even want him to answer?
I hate this feeling. Whatever this feeling is. It’s so unbelievably uncomfortable. The debate in my brain continues as my eyelids get heavy and my hands lower. Guess my body decided for me.
Chapter Three.
“Char!”
“Ahh!What the heck?”
I fling the covers up to my mouth because I refuse to believe who stands in front of me.
“Ben, what theheckare you doing here this early? Let alone in my room?” I shyly mumble under the blankets.
“What’s wrong? I’ve been in your room before.” He winks with a sly grin, looking like he just opened his favorite Christmas present.
Oh God, did my boobs slip out of my top in my sleep? Did he see them?
I whip the covers all the way over my head and exhale in relief seeing that my top is still on and straight. Was it like that when he walked in, though? My face heats in anticipatory embarrassment, unsure of how to feel about him possibly seeing part of me naked.
My bed dips on the left side, rolling me to lean that way.
His hands gently and slowly land on the blanket right over my torso and settle on each side of me. Without further hesitation, he tickles me aggressively, keeping me pinned down with his arms.
I squirm, squealing in between giggles, “Stop! Ben, please! I’m gonna pee!”
“You gonna stop hiding from me?”
His biceps press harder into my sides to keep me still while he continues his assault. Dang, I knew he was in shape, but I neverreallypaid attention tohowin shape…
