Page 65 of Consumed By You

He senses the forced formality in my voice and moves around the table. My heart skips a beat when I realize he’s coming to help me make the bed.

“I can do it, Benjamin.”

“Let me help you,” he insists gently but sternly, his eyes bright and determined.

We straighten the sheets in silence and I refuse to look up at him. The attraction between us that has always been there is heavy and ever-present, making the air in the room thick with trepidation and fear on my part.

I will not give in to him. He destroyed me. I never want him to be able to hurt me like that again.

“I can be your friend,” I suggest.

“Friend?”

“Yes. That’s all I can do.” I finally risk a glance at him. He frowns, his brows curving in to each other, though he looks more confused than angry, to be honest.

“Darcy, please. I know I was an asshole.” He drops the pillow on the bed and moves swiftly in my direction. I barely have time to take a breath in surprise before he cups my cheeks between his hands, his face just inches away from mine.

Fuck.

“I know I should have spoken to you about it. I regretted it the minute you left.”

“And still you didn’t come after me?” He doesn’t say anything and it infuriates me. I step back out of his grasp and raise my hands to my face, rubbing my temples.

“I called, Darcy. I had no idea you would have changed your number that fast.”

“You could have come here…donesomething,” I retort coldly and he nods, grimacing.

“I know I should have. I’m a coward. I was scared. I had never felt anything like what I felt when I heard you talk to my brother that day. It hurt to think of you with him. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“What were you expecting then? Did you not care about me at all before that moment? You would have been fine with him just screwing me before that?” I exclaim rather irrationally because I know he wouldn’t, but there’s no bounds to my rage right now.

“You know I wouldn’t have!” he growls, running a large hand through his thick locks. “God, Darcy. I didn’t know what I felt. This is all so new to me. I’ve slept with women, a lot of them, and never cared whether or not I spoke to them the next day!”

“And I was different.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he says exasperatedly, and I shrug.

“How are you sure this isn’t just your conscience talking? You’ve had relationships. You’ve fucked tons of women since we broke up or whatever we were when you fired me, haven’t you?” He turns away from me, shaking his head in anger. Of course I know the answer.

“That means nothing, Darcy.”

“I’ve been with no one,” I state, definitely sure of myself. “No one. I couldn’t. I still can’t, which only validates why I can’t do this again.”

“I’m sorry,” he says and surprisingly, takes my hand in his. “I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.”

I stare down at our hands in silence, wanting with all my might to kiss the soft indent of skin that’s oh-so-familiar to me just below his palm.

“Please.” He places his fingers on my burning cheek, moving slowly until his hands are in my hair, holding me tenderly. I struggle to breathe, refusing to look up.

Dear God, help me resist this man right now.

“Look at me. Just look at me, Darce. I need you to,” he whispers, and I can’t help it. I do.

He leans down, tilting his head to gain access to my mouth. He kissed me yesterday when he saw me in the hospital, but I was too dazed to take it in. Now I can remember everything. I remember the feel of his body pressed against mine, the vivid scent of fresh aftershave and cologne. I can remember the taste of him perfectly. I gasp softly, knowing that kissing him is going against everything I’ve just managed to say to him, but I’m defeated. And he knows it.

He tugs at my hair, thrusting his tongue into my mouth hungrily, expertly.

Stop, Darcy!