Other Side of Beautiful (A Beautifully Disturbed #1) (19 page)

Chapter 39

Ben

She threw my own words back at me. I’ve been so caught up on what she hasn’t told me that I’d forgotten what she has. Collin tried to tell me too. Her words were his words, but they all fell on my god damned deaf ears.

“We’re both screwed in the head, aren’t we?”

She shrugs. “‘fraid so.”

“Okay, well I’ve got another deal for you.”

“Shoot.”

“You quit trying to leave me, and I’ll quit accusing you of not trusting me.”

“I’m still so scared of making you hate me.” There she goes withdrawing into herself again. But she’s still here snuggled into my lap, and she’s not asking me to cut her loose. That has to mean something. It has to.

“That’s the thing, I could never hate you. I promise to be your protector, to defend you against anyone who tries to hurt you. Words or actions, it doesn’t matter. Every day you stay with me that will be my proof of your trust. We can make it work. We have to, because I can’t with anybody else.”

Chapter 40

Elle

Mother drunken trucker.
Midterms!
I’d say it’s the week from hell, but since I’ve spent the first half of the semester in Dante’s
Inferno
, hell just doesn’t seem a strong enough descriptor. There has to be something worse than hell, and when I figure it out, that’s what this week is. Midterms is the week for professors to get their revenge. To take out every sadistic fantasy ever conjured up during a 3:00 a.m. paper grading frenzy on the students. Who would be crowned King Make-our-lives-miserable? Who could conjure up the hardest, most obscure exam questions or multi-chapter papers due right before spring break? It’s to the point where I’m having more meaningful conversations with the librarians about where to find a specific book I’m looking for than with the man I’m currently living with. He being loaded down with papers for his lit classes and short stories for the writing classes, and me studying into the wee hours for those stupid exams until my brain verges on imploding.

Ben’s already asleep every night by the time I get home. He looks so peaceful lying there tonight that I don’t want to risk waking him by climbing into bed. Exhaustion literally overtakes me as I collapse onto the couch, falling asleep almost the moment my head hits the cushion. In my shoes, too tired to even kick them off. So confusion clouds my emerging consciousness when I wake up with a blanket tucked around me and a pillow under my head, sans shoes. Today is day four. Today and tomorrow, then I’m officially on spring break. Ben and Collin are still asleep, which I’m pretty jealous for. I’d love to still be sleeping. Alas, that’s not my lot. Instead, I decide to make breakfast for us all. Maybe I should’ve spent the time last minute studying, but after everything is said and done, I miss my guys and long to spend a little time with them.

Both men emerge from their bedrooms in all their bare chested, rippling muscled glory to the lure of frying bacon and coffee. Just because I’m in the giving mood, I set aside a couple pieces of bacon each as the rest gets a fine chop and folded into the egg mixture destined to become a frittata, the frittata I eventually pull piping hot from the oven. Ben pours a mug of coffee for himself, handing one off to me and Collin, who leans against the counter with his legs crossed in striped pajama pants.

“God, Col.” I shake my head openly admiring the view.
What
, he mouths with a wrinkled brow. “I’m sure I’ve said it before, but sometimes you really make me consider bumping off Kip and getting sex reassignment surgery.” He snickers into his cup then. “Nobody should look that good just waking up.”

“Uh, hello—
boyfriend
.” Ben waves his hand to catch our attention, which he never has a problem with getting from me. “I’m super sexy too…” He pretends to whine, jutting out his bottom lip for effect. I saunter over, swaying my hips as sultry-like as someone like me can pull off, him watching the entire way. Pressing the palms of my hands against his chest, I lean in tugging on that jutted lip with my teeth. He groans, hits the coffee mug to the counter, and kisses me into breathlessness until Collin clears his throat loudly.

“Live action hetero porn—
great
.” His comment almost makes me slip up and look at him. Almost. And it’s all I have to swallow back the laugh. But when you are being kissed into breathlessness by Benton Hayes, not much else can really steal your attention away. “Elle, when I told you that you needed to get laid, I didn’t mean in my kitchen with me standing here.”

“You didn’t say
not
in your kitchen with you standing there,” I say between kisses. “Next time, put it in writing.”

“I suppose you’re just going to encourage her?” he says to Ben.

“Sorry, brother. Big Ben down there is screaming she’s right. You’re on your own here.”

“Well…she’s lucky she made coffee—and bacon.”

Speaking of, I pry myself away from Mr. Super Sexy to serve up slices of frittata before it gets cold. All the oohing and “mmm” and “damn girl” coming from our kitchen, the neighbors must think we’re having an orgy up in here.

“Why didn’t you come to bed last night, Brontë?

“You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to risk waking you up.”

“Wake me up. Always err on the side of waking my ass up because I can’t stand not having you in my arms.”

“Eat,” I tell him. He pins me with the sultriest, most seductive look I think he’s ever given to date. I laugh and shake my head. “Your food, you idiot.”

Ben takes a big bite, chewing slowly. He never breaks eye contact but arches an eyebrow and says, “This is good
too
.”

We spend the next twenty minutes chatting. Ben practically has me sitting on his lap, and his hand never strays from touching or rubbing or lightly caressing some part of my body. I wish I didn’t have to leave them. Alas, the real world beckons, the real world where I have tests to take. Because I cooked, they clean up while I shower and dress for school. Without any time to thank “Big Ben” for agreeing with me earlier, I hug both my boys goodbye and leave for another day of midterms.

As I turn into the parking lot in front of the social science building, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, and my sister’s name scrolls across a picture of a harpy. The last thing I need before going into exams is to deal with her. I guess I kind of promised Ben I wouldn’t talk to Cricket anymore, but he never mentioned Dinah. Damn it, I already know I’m going to regret it but press the answer button just the same.

“Dinah, what do you want?”

“Manners, Elly. I’m your only sister after all.”

“Does our relationship really warrant anything more?”

“Fair enough.”

“Listen, I’m heading in for my first midterm of the day so just say what you called to say.”

“All right then, mom says you’re whoring yourself out again.”

Whoring myself? Fabulous. Her conversation with Ben. It had to start. I guess the waiting is over. There’s rustling on the other end of the phone and then, “Nobody’s ever going to love you.” Ouch.

“Hi, mom,” I say, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. But she doesn’t even acknowledge me.

“Don’t fool yourself. You don’t deserve love. And if someone is foolish enough—you’d find a way to ruin it. Don’t embarrass me.” And she hangs up. Not even a goodbye. Perfect strangers get goodbyes.

Ben was so right. She’s toxic, and even though I knew it before, it’s even more blatant now that I can’t trust my sister, either. Guess Dinah’s getting blocked next. What else can I do? It’s been three years since that night. I just want to move past my mistakes. Why won’t she let me move past them? Suppose I’ve lived in hell well before the semester ever started. My demons followed me all the way across the country, across the years unwilling to let up, unwilling to stop the torment. They’re always in my head. Always. The she-demon sensed my budding happiness and feels the need to snuff it out. But, in the end, Cricket is still right. With what I did, I don’t deserve to be loved.

We had such a good morning. Maybe, universe, can’t she be wrong just this once?
Please?
I’m not a prayer, and I know I don’t have the right to ask, especially from something so large and vast because I’m so insignificant. But I really need her to be wrong.

First two midterms down, I was pretty shaken by Dinah’s call earlier. That stupid superpower was out in full force so I don’t have high hopes for my first test, but after relying on my ritual once again, all the studying I’ve put myself through hopefully paid off for the second. Of course, usually when I think I’ve done really well is when I end up bombing. So maybe I shouldn’t think so positively.

With my stomach reminding me how much using your brain actually works up an appetite, I head across the quad to meet Ben at Science West. We’re supposed to meet for lunch because today is a really loaded day for the both of us. I have about ten minutes before we’re supposed to meet up.

The wind hits my face and fingers like I’ve opened the door to a blast freezer. I hate the back and forth of cold in this month, but as thinking back to that call earlier today, at least it’s not California. A smart person would’ve driven. I, however, don’t want to lose my good parking spot since it’s going to be dark when I get out of my last class. Two cars driving in opposite directions stop for me to cross at the crosswalk where I begin a fast paced walk/run which I continue with, breathing heavily, rounding the corner to slide between Bagley and Carter halls when the man of my dreams stops me in my tracks. He’s just standing there waiting for me, just standing, looking at his phone. But he’s there for me.

I open my mouth to call to him when Hilary,
the
Hilary steps up, invading his personal body space—and he hugs her. Not a half hug/pat kind of uncomfortable hug, but an honest, good to see you hug.

I keep walking toward them, although he seems content in their conversation. Until she leans in to kiss his cheek. Ben pulls away. He pulls away. Hilary stays in his personal space, and with her hand on his chest she asks, “You okay? You look troubled—stressed?” He does look it too. He didn’t look it earlier.

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Well what’s up? You want to talk about it?” Even with all her upward inflection, she’s a sparrow, a Saltmouth sparrow. Her voice is clanking like a sparrow, buzzing and trilling. She’s a sparrow who wants my penguin to become a sparrow too. Or worse, maybe she’s a sparrow who wants to be a penguin. But she can’t be his penguin. No. No. He’s my boyfriend. She can’t be his penguin because I’m his penguin. She needs to walk away. I should storm over there and tell her so. But my heart couldn’t take it if he chose her over me. Ben’s never given me reason to doubt my penguin status, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying that maybe I’m really the sparrow in disguise. So I stay planted in my spot listening instead.

“Nothing you’d want to hear about,” he says back to her.

“Try me? I’m a good listener?”

He sighs before telling her, “Thank you for your concern, but my problem is that I don’t get to spend enough time with my girlfriend.” He says this as he removes her hand from his chest.

“Girlfriend?”

“Yes. Girlfriend.”

“You don’t really mean the big girl?” Just as she says ‘big girl’ I step forward. My foot catches a slick spot of black ice, my ankle twisting underneath me, sending me sliding to the ground hard. I can’t help crying out from the pain.

Both Ben and Hilary look back my way. His eyes go wide while she stands staring, snickering. She can snicker all she wants because he shoves past her and within maybe ten steps he’s on his knees beside me, pulling me into his strong arms.

“Brontë, you hurt?”

“My ankle twisted, but I don’t think it’s serious.”

“Come on, let’s get you up. Ground’s too cold.” The Hilary finally makes her way over to us. I guess she doesn’t want to seem like a heartless bitch to the man she’s trying to snag from me.

“She okay?” she says to him, not to me. Standing there acting like she doesn’t know exactly who I am.

“I think she’ll be all right. Hilary, my girlfriend
Elle
.”

“She knows who I am. We have two classes together,” I tell him, to which she rumples her nose and answers.

“Oh, that’s right? I didn’t recognize you all bundled up?”

“Well, enjoy your lunch.” My words punctuate sharply, very sharply, in her direction, hoping she’ll finally take the hint. She does, leaving without a wave to Ben or even a look back over her shoulder.

As I stand leaning against his chest, he wraps an arm around my waist for support. “Can you walk on it?”

I nod. “Thank you. For the help.”

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“No. I’m sorry, you know.”

“For?”

“For causing you distress.”

“Shit
,” he says under his breath. “You heard that?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping. I just heard you talking when I walked up.” It’s a lie, because I absolutely eavesdropped. Too scared to confront her.

“I wouldn’t care if you did. If I saw you hugging some guy, I’d want to know what you were talking about.”

“What? You don’t trust me?”

“Oh, I absolutely trust you. I just don’t trust other guys around you. I’m a guy, and I know what I want to do to you. Ipso facto.” There’s that smile, showing off the dimple for me as we start walking inside the science building. He holds the door so I can limp through, but then he’s back at my side again giving me his shoulder to lean on.

“Don’t you miss it? I’m not stupid. You and Hilary slept together.”

He stops walking, turning me to face him. “Of course I miss it. But not enough if it means going back to Hilary.”

“But—she gave you what I haven’t been able to yet.”

“What we did, she’s done with a lot of other men. That’s not a judgment, it’s just fact. She gave me something of little importance to her, her body.”

“That’s kind of mean. So if a woman has a lot of sex, her body is of little importance to her?”

“No. That’s not what I meant. She told me so herself. She initiated the sex and told me flat out, it’s just sex.” Then the bastard starts to laugh, shaking his head at me.