Other Side of Beautiful (A Beautifully Disturbed #1) (20 page)

What?
“What’s so funny?”

“You realize you just defended a girl trying to get in my pants again.”

“Whatever. Solidarity and all that.”

“God you’re cute when you blush.” So of course when you have Benton Hayes saying something like that to you, you blush even harder. At least I do, especially as he traces the back of his fingers along my temple. “And just so we’re clear, what you’ve given me is so much more important. I’ll take your heart over her body any day.”

Damn it. He always knows the perfect thing to say to calm my, I don’t know, irrationalities. “What about my body?” His answer is a kiss. A long, deeply delicious kiss, unchaste and uncaring that we are making a spectacle of ourselves in front of a quarter of the student population. When he pulls back, there is so much want in his eyes, which once again makes me feel elated and scared as hell.

Ben takes ahold of my hand to lead me to the food lines. “One of these days, I’m going to keep your attention.”

“Sor—”

“Don’t need an apology. Just, you don’t have to be alone with your thoughts. I’m right here with you, and I’ll be here as long as you want me.”

Chapter 41

Ben

I’ve never been so glad for midterms to be over since starting college. Yesterday could’ve gone so wrong with Hilary showing up. I promised myself I’d always be nice to past hookups, but I just didn’t realize she was the girl. The one that almost broke us up before we had the chance to really get going.

Elle and I need time together. Away. Just the two of us. She needs to see how serious I am about us. She doesn’t just need it, she deserves it. Those ghosts peeking out at me through her eyes. Whatever they whisper to her, it’s not how much I need her, that’s for sure. We have a whole lifetime of Cricket to deprogram out of her head. My god, how could she even look at Hilary and think she has competition?

Errol slips into the front of my Jeep. He stays silent. My friends know, they somehow just know. His presence today is so welcome. Collin and Kip are at it again. They need space too. And I’m just not ready to talk.

We drive, a silent communication between us. Him going inside the grocery store to grab the snacks and drinks we’ll need for the trip. Me, pulling into the gas station out front to fuel up. It all just works.

And today is so much nicer than yesterday, so a good day for travel. Not warm, but in Michigan once the temperature hits 45 degrees, Michiganders start breaking out the shorts. Ridiculous, I know. I guess we’re just a hearty people. Even us transplants. Even though Michigan is in my blood. My dad’s people.

I wonder if Elle and I will make our home here or if we’ll end up somewhere else. It won’t be California. She’ll never step foot in that state again if I have anything to say about it. With senior year looming, I feel the noose tightening around my neck, a little bit tighter every day.

Benton Hayes. I’m the one who’s supposed to have all my shit together. They follow my lead. Somehow I was voted patriarch of this family over the past couple years. I didn’t vote. The empty nest feeling is crushing. It’s always there, the countdown ticking off to the side. Not living near Bri and Errol, I don’t even want to think that day could happen. But Collin. With what we’ve survived together, not seeing him every day, the thought used to wake me at night, cold sweats and heart palpitations. Losing Andrew, I of all people know the importance of family.

It still troubles me. I still carry around all these fears in my back pocket alongside my wallet and cell phone, but now that I have Elle beside me, the necrotic blackness of the future seems less desperate. I’ll go anywhere she needs to go and we’ll figure the rest out. Hopefully it’s somewhere we can all raise our families together. Never thought I’d want any of it. But now, I want those things I never had. Dads-only camping trips with Uncle Collin and Uncle Kip, Uncle Errol and all the kids, “cousins” giving the moms a little time to themselves. It’s stupid. But we won’t be in college forever. It can’t hurt to get an idea of the life I’d like to strive for.

Errol opens the trunk, piling the plastic bags in the back before climbing up front next to me. He nods with one of those knowing looks he gets, probably because now I’ve got a stupid smile on my face as compared to the scowl I wore when I dropped him off.

“You think you and Bri will have kids?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Hell yeah we’re having kids. The best parts of me. The best parts of her. The chance to do things differently, better.”

“But you’d be responsible for another human life. Doesn’t that freak you out?”

“Yep.”

“And you had no doubt that you wanted to marry Bri?”

“None. She’s the one thing in my life that I’ve never been more sure about. You thinking about Elle?”

“We still have so much baggage to sort through.”

“But you feel it, right?”

“
Yeah.
”

“Then you know what to do. But you don’t have to take my advice. I only did what Beyoncé told me to do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I liked it, so I put a ring on it.”

I start the car. “You’re an idiot.” He just shrugs.

Elle and Sabrina are sitting on their suitcases when we pull up in front of my apartment. The sun catches the blonde highlights of Elle’s hair making it sparkle like gold. And she’s smiling, her real, genuine smile. The one we don’t get to see nearly enough. We are definitely going away at the end of the semester. That’s a smile I want to keep just for me. Who knows, maybe we’ll change it to one no one else has ever seen.

When she turns to look at me, all those worries fall away until it’s just my feet moving toward her. She stands, and as my arms go around her and our lips connect I hear Errol singing in the background. “All the single ladies. All the single ladies.” We all turn to look at him. He’s singing, all right, and complete with hand gestures and dance moves.

“
Idiot,
” I shout, then return to the single most important task in my life at this moment.

Collin closes the front door to our place, toting a travel bag behind him. I look up and nod, to which he rolls his eyes. For the moment, life is good.

After a final check to make sure neither of the girls is leaving behind something they can’t live without for the week, because it’s not like Myrtle Beach has stores or anything, we slide into my loaded-down SUV, me driving. Elle takes the passenger seat with Collin, Errol, and Sabrina fighting for shoulder space in the back.

Writing is all about connections, and PWAC—Professional Writers Association Conference—is
the
place to make those significant connections. Grad schools, Indie publishers, lit journals, even agents—anybody who’s anybody connected with writing shows up.

Elle’s in her own world again, staring out the window. I’d like to talk to her. There’s been so much on my mind lately that I’d like her take on. Because I’m not going to lie, that damn Beyoncé song has been playing on a loop in my head since I talked with Errol earlier. Is that something she’d even be open to? Would it seem too fast for her?

“Hey, Brontë?”

“Hmm?” The look on her face is so peaceful, almost innocent, that I can’t do it. How do you bring up marriage when you can’t even say I love you? You can’t. Or, I can’t, at any rate. It’s not fair to her. Her arms are wrapped around her midsection, so that becomes my out.

“You warm enough?”

“Well, you know me. I can always be warmer.”

I have to touch her, reaching over, I run my hand over her folded arms.

“You look tired. Try to sleep.”

“Been a long week.” Her eyes close as the words, only whispers, reach me through a yawn. She rolls over facing the closed window, and I can’t help to continue touching her more, grazing my finger along her cheek one time before I let her alone to rest.

We spend hours on the highway. All of Ohio and half of West Virginia before we stop for the evening. The Best Western. The first place we see off the highway. Bri’s asleep on Errol’s shoulder, but the guys are still up and give their okay. We need to stretch our legs. We need pillows and soft beds, and I wouldn’t exactly mind copping a feel or two on my gorgeous girlfriend. She has beautiful breasts. And we all know the old saying. Once you’ve seen one pair of beautiful breasts, you want to keep seeing them. Over. And over. And over. Well, that might just be my saying.

Once we’re checked in I drive around to the dark side of the building, pulling up to a parking spot right in front of the side door we’ll use to enter, it takes the room key to get in. Col takes off right away for our room, the one the three of us will be sharing, while Bri and Errol took off for the one they paid for.

The sky is so clear every constellation in the heavens is visible overhead, at least the spring ones. Elle finds me leaning against the bumper looking up at the stars.

“Come here.” I snake an arm around her waist, pulling her until she leans against the bumper next to me. “See that?” I direct her gaze to the sky and a bright tail moving slowly.

“A comet?” she asks. And her face just lights up. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“It would’ve been torture without you.” And it would have been. Since there doesn’t seem like much else to say, I press a kiss to her forehead. To put in all the tender feelings I have for her. The feelings I can’t express. We stay outside for a while longer, no need to talk, just enjoying the night and the company.

Her beautiful breasts do make an appearance during the night—quietly, so as not to wake up a sleeping best friend in the next bed. In the morning, after a breakfast consisting mostly of strong coffee and pretty much all the bacon set out for the continental breakfast, we turn in our key cards, heading out for the second leg of our spring break adventure.

We make it through the rest of West Virginia, pass through a portion of Virginia, and are well into North Carolina when my phone rings from the center console. I let it go to voicemail because of the driving, but it immediately rings again. And again I let it go to voicemail. The third ring in a row has me pulling off the highway into a Mercedes Benz dealership to answer. Anyone who wants to get ahold of me that badly, and all. It’s my mom’s number. I haven’t talked to her since Andrew died. And the only thing I can think is that we’re just outside of Charlotte. My mom calls me for the first time in three years and I think geography. Elle’s ritual helps, then I hit talk. Maybe the bastard finally dropped.

I listen. Not speaking. When the phone falls from my hand, everything happens around me without moving. Elle picks up my phone and puts it to her ear. I see her lips moving, but without volume. Then Errol and Bri are hugging me. Collin has tears in his eyes. Without me moving.

Elle kisses my cheek, swiping her thumb across the spot her lips had been and climbs out of the car. That’s the last anyone pays attention to her until she crawls back into the front seat. Some time has passed. More for me. None for my Grand. Time won’t ever pass for her again.

“Ben, baby.” She grabs my hand. “I used my credit card. The airline has bereavement tickets waiting for you and Collin, okay? Switch spots and I’ll get us to the airport. Then, um, we can drive your Jeep back.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Damn it, I shouldn’t have stayed away so long from my grandmother. I was going to take Elle to meet her. “I need you there. I need you there, Brontë.” The sound of my voice is off—strangled.

“Okay. Let me try to add a third ticket. I just didn’t want to overstep. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

God, that’s my girl. I don’t know if I believe or not, in things like God, but somehow the universe saw fit to push us together, and I know I’d be lost without her.

Chapter 42

Elle

We rent a car after landing in Cincinnati, the closest airport I could book us at the time and head southwest toward Evanston, Indiana. Ben and Collin lived just on the other side in some small town. I drive until we hit Evanston where we stop at a Men’s Warehouse to fit them with suits. The commercials are right, I love them in those suits. Too bad it’s under these circumstances. Then, because my credit card is hitting max capacity, we stop at a Wal-Mart so I can pick up something. It doesn’t matter as much what I wear, but I want to be respectful.

He takes over driving from there. And it starts raining, pouring actually. The closer we get to their little burgh, the less sad he looks, the more indifferent, I guess. And that scares the shit out of me. Indifference means he’s not dealing, and not dealing isn’t healthy.

The closer we drive to his home, the quieter the car ride becomes. Ben white-knuckles the steering wheel, not taking his eyes off the road. I reach over, patting his leg. Sometimes words just don’t work. He pries a hand from the wheel, intertwining our fingers. Collin stares out the back window, his cheek resting against the cool glass. The streaking raindrops look like his tears. It’s the first time either Ben or Collin has been home since the summer after graduating high school. Years of Christmases and summer breaks spent on campus, in town. And to think, they invited me. I want to be here for them—for him. Ben and his grandma had once been close. Once upon a time, they’d all been close. The sadness and regret built up in this car, stagnate in the air, and suffocates the three of us.

He pulls off the highway exiting onto a much smaller, bumpy, potholed two lane road, but his fingers never leave mine. We travel parallel with the highway to our right. Yellow grass and budding bushes give way to an expansive wrought iron fence to the left. The car slows to almost a crawl, Ben exhales, turning into St. Michael’s cemetery. It’s too soon for his grandma’s funeral. I know why we are here. I’m just stunned, he—they’d want me around for their reunion.

Down a twisting dirt path, toward the very back past all the oldest grave markers and stone mausoleums, where the front gate obscures against the horizon, he presses the brake to cut the engine. We sit for a couple of minutes not moving, then Ben cracks his door.

“Should I wait here?” I ask.

Ben strokes my knuckle with his finger. “No,” he says, a distant expression on his face. “I want you to meet my brother.” Even though only the three of us, I suddenly feel underdressed, messy, just altogether unworthy of his invitation. I get out and walk around the car where he meets me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as I lean my head on his, holding out my hand to Collin. I feel like such an intruder. The closer we step to the grave, the more my heart breaks from the unfairness of this damn situation. I love and miss a man I’ve never met because two of the closest people in the world to me love and miss him so fiercely.

We stand before the well maintained headstone. Its polished finish shines like glass. Andrew Hayes. He was only twenty. His life never had a chance to start. Beloved son and brother. There’s the feeling of a vise tightening around my heart as I look from Ben to poor Collin. Son and brother. Not one mention of Collin. Not one mention of love. I hear a light sob and turn back to see my poor, poor Ben with his red, puffy eyes and downpour of tears. He wipes at his face. But they don’t need to worry about feeling self-conscious, so I step back, giving them space. For some reason, maybe because they just aren’t programmed to show emotion like women, it’s so much more difficult for me to see a man cry. Collin hunched over, his hands on his knees bracing himself like he just had the wind knocked out of him, is almost too much to see. Ben closes the gap between the two of them, hugging his friend. A real honest hug shared between two people who’ve lost so much. They step back by the car not even really talking. I turn away. They deserve to grieve without an audience. So I do what Ben wanted. I walk over to the headstone and introduce myself.

“I’m Elle,” I whisper. “Ben thought we should meet.” I find myself swiping at my eyes too. I imagine him kissing my hand and telling me I must be special for his little brother to bring me around. God, what right do I even have to think so selfishly? “Your brother and Collin are pretty wonderful,” I continue. The energy I feel in the air as I speak has me wondering if Andrew isn’t here with us right now. “I wish there was more I could do to help them, but I’m afraid losing you is beyond my skills. They don’t know, but I don’t exactly deal with stress too well…Here I go, making it about me again.
Sorry
.” Why am I opening up to a dead guy? He wasn’t my priest, therapist, bartender, or hair dresser. He wasn’t even my friend. I wish he had been my friend. I wish I had a right to grieve him too. “Anyway, I just want you to know that I’m looking out for them. But if you wouldn’t mind, try to maybe visit in a dream. Tell Ben you’re proud of him. Tell Collin Kip’s a good guy. I know it’s a lot to ask, but please…please do this for them.”

Something flits my hair against my neck. “Fuck!” I scream, arms flailing, and stumble backward into the marshy grass, totally soaking my butt in mud.
Great.
It’s Ben. Ben’s hand, more pointedly. Amid all the sadness, I laugh. Fall over, knee slapping laughter. The guys laugh too. The tension breaker we all need.

“Jesus. Clear your throat or something,” I half scream and swat at him. But Ben folds his fingers between mine, effectively pulling me up into his arms. “You scared the crap out of me, by the way…we’re in a fricking graveyard.”

Ben’s not laughing anymore though. “Thank you,” he says. The deep timber of his gratitude sends a shiver through my entire body.

“For what?”

He shakes his head. “Just—thank you.” Then presses his forehead against mine. With one hand around my waist and the other cupping the bare skin around the nape of my neck, I’m pulled closer, my eyes closing as our lips brush together. “Drew would’ve high-fived me over you, you know.” I highly doubt that. “Then he would’ve leaned in and said something like, your eyes are far too pretty to have to stare at my ugly mug every day.”

“Oh, come on. He would not ha—” I don’t get to finish. Ben’s lips cover mine. I fall into him, his arms. God help me, I’ve fallen for him. Loving the man holding me. Loving him with all my heart. But right now, I’m a distraction. He needs to support his best friend. He needs to talk to his brother. Although so hard, so hard, I put enough space between us for him to realize what I’m doing. When he smiles at me, I swear the sun peeks through the clouds a little.

They stay out by Andrew’s grave for almost an hour while I sit in the car, giving them their space. Eventually I see Ben kiss his hand and pat the headstone, a sweet gesture, really, then he joins me inside the front seat. Collin takes a little longer, but I would stay all night if he needs it. When he does climb in back, he wears a tortured, yet almost relieved expression.

“You know,” I say as Ben starts the car, “Kip is wonderful, he’s genuine, and is full of a lot of love.” Collin whips his head up, his wide eyes drilling me. Shit. I’ve overstepped. Again.

“She’s right, Col. He’d want you to be happy. My brother loved you—fuck he loved you.” Ben pounds the poor steering wheel with the palm of his hand. Things are starting to get way too serious again.

The strain in his voice is thick, coated with pain when he asks, “Aren’t you mad at me? How can you stand it knowing…knowing I’ve been unfaithful to Drew? He deserved better, and I couldn’t take losing you. I won’t survive it.”

“Damn it, Col. You could
never
lose me and you’ve
never
been unfaithful to my brother. We’ve been over this. Andrew was a real person. He was a real person who made you feel loved and happy and healthy and whole. Andrew’s not here anymore. Kip is. Kip is here and he has the same qualities. He does the same for you, if not better because of where he’s at in his life. Accept his love. Accept it and be happy, because, brother, we have one shot at life, and all I want is for you to be happy. You deserve it. No matter what those bigots back home think, you deserve it.”

“I, uh, think I’d like to visit my grandma. Could you drop me off at the nursing home?”

Although gray still colors the sky, the rain has stopped. The potholes become fewer and farther between. Yellow grass and budding bushes eventually fall away to reveal houses and cars and children outside playing. After we drop Collin off at his grandmother’s nursing home, we check in at the hotel. Check in only takes a few minutes, so I wait in the car. Ben comes out of the lobby with a key card in hand. He drives around the back to park. Room 112.

Carrying both our bags into the room, Ben holds the door open for me like a gentleman. Typical maroon carpeting, off-white textured walls, maroon comforters covered with white, yellow, and red wild flowers. Pretty standard two star hotel, but we aren’t here for luxury. I kick off my shoes, spreading myself across the bed farthest from the door. It feels pretty good to lie down. That’s when Ben drops down next to me and my heart begins to race. We’ve just spent over an hour at a cemetery to visit his dead brother because he has come home to bury his grandmother, so my reaction to him is probably inappropriate. Yet another way to fail. What can I say? It’s my superpower.

“I couldn’t get through this without you,” he says.

“You have Collin. He’d have helped.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I need you. I need
you
.” Ben rolls over, pinning me against the mattress. His lips sink to the crook of my neck. Beautiful warmth sweeps over my body as he drags his teeth along my skin. Pleasure from those stinging bites isn’t something I’ll soon forget. And he roams everywhere, exposed skin and even through my clothing.

It’s everything. He’s everything. “Go ahead,” finally I’m able to tell him. “Just—don’t look at my thighs.” Even without the lights on, the room carries enough natural light seeping through the curtains to illuminate the past I’m still not ready to share. He agrees with his actions, pulling my shirt up over my head. His lips scorch every bare patch of skin from my forehead, slowly working his way down, nipping and circling my navel with his tongue. I become one raw nerve of excitement. He glances up at me through his long eyelashes and I nod my consent, too captivated to even answer out loud. His hands wander, finding the button on my pants, then I hear the zip. Good to his word, he never once looks to my thighs.

Ben moves his mouth back up my torso, hovering above my breasts where he pulls one out of the cup of my bra, sucking and biting and twisting my nipple. “Oh god, Ben…” I moan, letting my legs fall open. He walks his fingers under my cotton panties, locating that little magic fun button quite quickly. Benton alternates between sucking on my bottom lip and my nipple while sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I arch my back as he presses and tugs. “Ohgodohgodohgod Oh god!” I whisper-scream, trying desperately to keep the volume in check. So the neighbors don’t pound on the wall. So we don’t get a nasty phone call from the front desk. My breath catches and slows to a more even pace.

“Glad I could be of service,” he breaths into my hair. Me too. “Think you got another round in you?” He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking the tips. It’s sexy as hell to see him tasting me, enjoying me the way he is. Instead of answering, I guide his strong hand from his mouth to the leg of my panties, folding my hand over his to grip the fabric.

What the fuck am I doing? How can he get my capris off, my panties off without looking? He has to feel the erratic change in my heartbeat, because he stops. I squeeze his hand tightly enough to leave little fingernail indentations.
What’s wrong?
he mouths. “Please don’t look at my thighs.” Then the tightness in my chest shifts to pain, that familiar heart attack pain of a panic attack. I try to breathe through it. Wishing like mad I had my pill bottle. I’m a god dammed freak. A hyperventilating freak.

“Hey, Brontë…it’s okay.” He strokes my hair like I’m a child. “We don’t have to. It’s light. You don’t like the light.”

“I…want to…” I tell him between pants.

“Doesn’t look like it.” But then it is like he suddenly understands. Ben places his hand over mine, leading it back to the problematic fabric between us. “I will focus on your eyes,” he says. I nod. He maneuvers my hands to do all the undressing. The tightness in my chest filters away, taking with it my erratic breathing. Before I have the chance to back out on him, I’m lying naked beside a man who has never taken his eyes off mine. And he brushes the tip of his nose up my jawline, breathing in deeply. “I lo…” He doesn’t finish, instead pressing a commanding, utterly delicious kiss to my lips.

Ben is solid. I feel his presence hovering above me. Even hard and ripped and strong, his touch is gentle enough for our bodies to mold, to fit against one another, easing my legs around his hips. And from there my mind explodes, ripping my consciousness from my body into some pleasure galaxy that couldn’t have been discovered yet by anyone else. Not even the Hubble telescope. Rocking and moaning. Pushing and moaning. Pulling and moaning. Kissing. Biting. Heat. Heat. Heat. Beautifully building. I open my eyes to shouting, realizing too late that it’s me doing the shouting. Ben smiles down at me. “You closed your eyes,” he says, brushing a couple loose strands of hair off my face.

Right here, in an average hotel room in Southern Indiana, I lose my heart.
Forever
. Whatever happens to it now is completely out of my hands. “I—uh—should—uh—shower. We have to…” I do not want to finish that sentence. Not after the sheer perfectness of our time here together. But we are here for a purpose. His mother hadn’t called as soon as it happened. She’d waited until the day of the viewing to call. Ben insisted it was his father’s doing. That man sounds as bad as Cricket.