Page 199 of Burn Bright

I scowl. “I don’t actually want to be pregnant.”

“I know?—”

“Because I have so many goals,soooomany, that would be epically derailed if I were to get knocked up tomorrow.”

“I know?—”

“And I don’t even know if I’m mom material. I have no relationship with my own mom, and maybe I’d be a really shitty one.”

“You’d be a great mom,” he says without any hesitation. “Do you want kids someday, when you’re older and a surgeon and settled in your career?”

I lift my shoulders. “Maybe. I mean…it’s not off the table. I have time to think about it more.” I can’t search his eyes fast enough. “Do you want kids someday in the future?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, slipping his hands through my hair while his eyes roam across mine, like he’s scavenging for the answers. Like he believes they’re within me. “I’d want them with the right person, and that person would be you.”

“Stop,” I deadpan, pushing off him.

He grasps me stronger, keeping me still and closer. “I’m not teasing.” His eyes say he’s being serious. “I mean it, Harriet.” I feel his warm hand against my cheek.

“If you were staying,” I add for him. “That’s what you really mean. If you were staying, there would be a future between us.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, looking even more torn up than I feel.

I glide my fingers down his chest, staring at our laps as confusion bites at me. “Why are you leaving, Ben?” I nearly whisper, as if these are harmful questions that could pierce his body, his heart. I’ve just never wanted to hurt him. I’m not Charlie, who prefers to bludgeon Ben with his words. “Why go move to the wild? To a place you apparently can’t share with me because you’re afraid your family will find out…and then they’ll stop you?”

“It’s…” He grimaces at himself. “It’s so fucking hard to explain.”

“You could try.” I shrug. “I’m all ears, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He blinks a lot, like he’s disentangling jumbled, gnarled thoughts.

“Is it a calling?” I try to help. “Like, you feel compelled to go commune with nature alone?”

“I don’t know…” His breathing shortens. His heartpoundsbeneath my hand. “Maybe not that.” He swallows hard, runs his fingers through his hair a few times, and the coldness when he lets go of me feels agonizing. But I hold his neck instead, hoping he knows I’m here. His eyes are reddened. “Maybe it’s more like a need, a necessity. Like if I don’t do this…” He shakes his head, then intakes a sharper breath.

“It’s okay,” I say quickly, not understanding why he’s getting so worked up over this. I do know Ihateseeing him choked for oxygen. Ihatehow his pulse is a quickening hammer under my hand. “Take some breaths. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“Maybe I could…” He swallows again, trying to inhale deeper.

“Ben, let’s just drop it?—”

“I could stay into the holidays,” he says with a nod. “I want to stay. More than anything. I think I can.” He nods more assuredly. “I’ll be here.”

Now I’m processing rapidly. “Are you sure? We haven’t heard anything from the Honors House yet. You’d still have to stay with your brothers if you can’t complete the Kappa bet.”

“Maybe I can stay here longer too. It’s been better. Beckett has seemed okay.”

If I cling too tightly to this hope, will it just crumble in my hands? Still, I find myself clutching to this blissful feeling. “It’s the sex, isn’t it,” I tease. “It’s mind-altering. Too good to say goodbye to.”

“It’s not the sex, Fisher. It’s just you. It’s been you.” His smile emerges as soon as mine peeks, and he nods even stronger this time, his breathing deepening in a good way. “I’ll be here for longer. I’ll be here with you.”

My spirits catapult to the clouds. I pull him closer, but he’s already crashing his lips to mine, urging them apart. His sensual, devouring tongue draws me into him. His hand tightens in my hair with a dominant, needy grip. I ache to be smothered by his touch, by him.

The door clicks open so slowly, so softly, we almost don’t hear when one of his brothers enters the apartment.

“Beckett?” Ben calls out, craning his neck over his shoulder, and I wonder if he thinks it’s him because of the hushed entrance.

I have a direct view ofTom.