Page 58 of How We Began

“If you let me kiss you.”

“Ben…”

Another step. Another wild beat of my heart.

Then he was achingly close, the space between us thrumming with expectation and the pound of my heart.

“Lilah McCannon?” He stooped down a little to make and keep eye contact.

“Yes?” I was breathless and wild.

“Is it me or my guitar?”

I met his gaze. “You. It’s only ever been you.”

“Can we go home?” His mouth brushed my jaw, his thumb running in its wake.

“Let’s go home.”

I knew I was going to pay for it. I would be paying for it for the next month as I went back to being without him again. But I didn’t care.

It was a typical Ben and Lilah trip home: black cab, inappropriate hands, and bursting through the door to the dorm like a gale force wind. There was no hesitation as we fell through the door to his room, him carrying me, my legs wrapped around his waist, literally tearing at each other’s clothes, mouths hot hungry and demanding.

(Later)

“Why are you hitting yourself on the forehead?” he asked. I love his sleepy voice.

“No reason,” I lied, but really it was because I knew I should have got up while he was sleeping and escaped before the fissure in my heart started to crack wide open.

He wiggled himself closer, one leg slung over mine, one arm over my stomach.

Oh, God, this was going to cause pain like never before.

“What are you worried about?” he asked, one blue eye cracking open as he lifted his head to meet my pained expression.

I opened my mouth to answer.

“And don’t say ‘nothing’, because I can read you like a book.” He chuckled in my ear and tugged me closer to his side.

I love his chuckle, more of a giggle really. It is ridiculous coming from someone so frickin’ fit.

It made me giggle, too.

“I’m trying to work out how to go on from here.” I breathed a heavy exhalation as the truth left me.

“What do you mean?” His nose skimmed my jawline, smelling all warm and sleepy, my perfume imprinted on his skin.

“I mean, I don’t know how to do this anymore. It’s not working, the whole ignoring each other and being friends. We end up doing this, like we did at Christmas, like we did last night. It makes the time in-between even more painful. It’s confusing.”

“I’m not confused.”

“You’re not?”

Why wasn’t he confused?

“Not really. I know what I want, but I’m just not getting anywhere with it.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, which twitched in response. “So I’m just accepting anything that I can get.”

I was about to heave myself up when he chuckled again and clamped me down next to his warm and naked body.