Page 12

Different worlds

After waking up entangled with Ben, the last thing I wanted was to be on my own. It was a surprise and a relief when he insisted I go to the office with him, needing to attend a few meetings he’d been putting off.

The building was bigger than I’d expected, one of those tall, shiny offices with separate receptions.

“Good morning, Mr Carlson,”

people chorused as we walked through the building.

I’d intentionally only bought a single crutch to try and walk as normally as possible, and I’d worn my green dress – the smartest thing I owned.

In the lift, there were a few other people, but Ben placed a hand on the small of my back. “Catherine is my assistant; she’ll be happy to help if you need anything when I’m in meetings.”

I nodded, feeling insignificant compared to all the other heel-clad women as I stared down at my single black pump and pokey toes.

Catherine wasn’t what I’d expected; she was more like a fun aunt than an assistant. We were sat at her desk with another tea when Ben returned from his meeting, looking rushed off his feet and visibly anxious.

“Sorry that took so long, are you alright?”

he asked me, stopping Catherine mid-story.

His face relaxed when he saw the spread of papers and the numbers on the screen.

“I’m fine, I’ve been helping Catherine. I wanted to keep busy. I hope that’s okay?”

Catherine interrupted. “Okay? She saved me half a day’s work; we can make our weekly lunch after all.”

“Oh, great,”

Ben replied. “Listen, I think we’d better get back, Catherine. I’m sure Elle’s tired.”

I looked between them. “I’m okay if you need to go for lunch.”

Ben smiled down at me softly. “We have a catch up every Friday,”

he explained, “to set up the week.” He turned to his assistant. “Let’s do Monday, or I can just email you tomorrow?”

“Honestly, it’s okay,”

I insisted, looking up at him, attempting to avoid facing the reality of leaving the office. The thought of going back to the apartment was suffocating.

“You could always come with us?”

Catherine offered.

Checking with Ben, and noting his nod of agreement, I smiled at her, slowly easing myself up from the desk.

As we walked to the lift, a young man with round, tortoise-shell glasses and broad shoulders stopped us abruptly. “Hi, are you Elle? Are you who suggested the VAT reclaim for Brookes? Sorry to interrupt.”

I noticed how well-groomed his chocolatey brown hair and neatly shaped beard was. His energy was different than the rest of them; easier.

“This is Charlie,”

Catherine explained.

“Um, yes?”

I replied, looking to Ben. I doubted the words as they left my lips, but at the same time, in my gut, I wanted to be useful again. I had suggested the international VAT reclaim to Ben when he’d seemed stressed over a spreadsheet last week.

Ben rested his hand on my back. “Yes, she also taught Catherine a VLOOKUP this morning.”

Charlie grinned and shook my hand. He had a loose, friendly grip.

“I know you’re all busy,”

Charlie added, looking to Ben, “but I actually think I could apply some of the frameworks to three of my clients. I’d like to run the numbers, see if it’s worth a conversation, and I was hoping for some guidance?”

Charlie’s eyes met mine and we smiled at each other.

“I’d be happy to help, if that would be appropriate?”

I said, as Ben opened his mouth.

“Really?”

Charlie looked thrilled.

“I enjoy being useful. Ben’s done a lot for me, so if it’s okay with him, I’m honestly happy to help if I can. Although, I can’t make any promises I’ll be any good.”

Ben was taken aback. “It’s okay with me, but you don’t have to.”

He met my gaze as I turned to him, making everyone else disappear around me. “Only if you feel up to it. Maybe you and Charlie could sit down next week? If you’re sure?”

I nodded eagerly.

“I’ll arrange it,”

Catherine added.

“Amazing. I look forward to it,”

Charlie replied energetically, pausing awkwardly before walking back to his desk.

I sat quietly at lunch while Ben and Catherine talked through the work week. Plenty of women had stared, and I swear a few had made remarks, but I’d been happy to throw myself into helping Catherine. It really was the least I could do.

Ben kept telling me how grateful he was, but all I could think was that I was the grateful one; grateful to have spent the day at his office, instead of alone with my thoughts.

Stumbling back to the guest bedroom, I reached for my tights, letting out a gasping wince. Pain speared through my side. I panted. My ribs had settled down, but my fall in the kitchen had made the pain flare up again, and I’d spent far too much time up and about today. It was infuriating: my mind liked being busy, but my body couldn’t handle it. Awkwardly, I slipped on some new blue pyjama shorts and managed to slowly inch the dress off over my head, feeling my hair flutter down to rest against my bare back. Deeper breaths became easier and easier as my ribs relinquished some space.

Reaching my arm around to my bra strap, a groan slipped out of my mouth as my ribs burned. I tried again, but the pain was so bad I choked on the air I was inhaling. Fuck it. I’d just have to sleep in my bra, but I needed to get some ice first; I knew from experience that I had to calm the swelling before tomorrow.

As I attempted to stand, I immediately curled into the pain and fell against the wall. “Shit,”

I whispered under my breath. I was still in just my shorts and my lacy, dark-blue bra.

I turned to look back at the strappy top on the bed.

“Are you alright? Do you want a glass of water?”

came Ben’s voice from the living area.

“Yes, no. I mean, I’m fine,”

I replied, but my voice broke as I stood there by the door, not sure I could move any further.

His voice drifted through more gently. “Are you okay?”

I felt my chest rise with a pang of pain. “Okay, maybe some ice please.”

“Some ice water?”

“No. For my ribs… I irritated them yesterday,”

I explained, sounding hoarse. My wrist had started to redden as it steadied my weight, the door creeping ajar. “Just leave it there, thank you.”

He laughed. “Why, what are you up to?”

“Nothing. I just… I can’t get my bra off.”

“Oh.”

I bit my bottom lip, feeling embarrassed again as I heard the freezer open and shut.

“I have the ice. Will you let me help? You can lie down, I won’t look.”

His voice was kind, but there was an air of something being stifled in his tone.

I flinched, stranded. “I can’t get back to the bed right now.”

“Let me help you,”

he coaxed, nudging the door open a little further.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Will you let me come in?”

I tried to move, but winced too loudly – he was there instantly. He peeled my hand off the wall where I was leaning, looping it around his shoulders, and walking me carefully to the bed. We didn’t speak; I blushed so hard my cheeks stung.

He was in his boxers – he must have been getting ready for bed himself. His skin on my mine felt warm and soft as his strong arms guided me down onto the duvet, my face resting against the fluffy pillow, finally allowing my core to relax.

“You have a nasty bruise, no wonder you’re struggling. You’ve got to let us help you, Elle. You could’ve made it worse, or were you just planning to sleep by the door?”

I tensed as he leaned over to press the cold ice pack against the swelling. I flinched, but it felt good. A drip of water slowly slid down my bare back, leaving a trail of tingling cold. Two fingers effortlessly undid my bra strap, releasing the catch and bringing instant relief. I savoured a deep breath, relinquishing my last iota of control.

“Thanks… definitely adding this to my list of least sexy ways to get a man to take off my underwear,”

I grunted.

“How do you normally do it?”

he asked, the annoyance gone.

“Ben!”

I exclaimed, staring at the wall. “I swear to god, it feels like you’re flirting with me. You’re so confusing – cut it out.”

I couldn’t see his face, only feel his breath settling on my skin, his warm body propped against my side. The mattress shifted as he relaxed down further, leaning on an arm whilst still gently holding the ice.

“I am flirting with you.”

“Why?”

I blurted crassly.

“Why would I not? You’re a beautiful woman living in my apartment.”

“I’m not— Ben, be serious.”

“It was one of the reasons I was so angry when I first saw you. I was immediately drawn to you. People are predictable and disappointing, but you? You baffle me, intrigue me. Mostly with your kindness.”

Another droplet of ice-cold water broke free of the pack, dribbling over the ridges of my ribs. Ben’s finger interrupted its path, sweeping a long stroke across my sensitive skin, taking it with him and patting it on the small towel.

“I thought you found me impossible and infuriating?”

I replied softly, trying to keep my mind on the words and not on anticipating his touch.

He chuckled. “See, this is why I like you so much.”

I hesitated. What was happening? Had I banged my head again?

“I like you too, Ben,”

I whispered. “But this is a bad idea, we both know it.”

“Maybe. But who cares? We enjoy each other’s company. We’re adults, and I hope you know that if anything ever happens…”

Another droplet fell and he once again dragged his finger through it, sending goosebumps up my arms. The warmth of his fingertip following the cold set my nerves alight.

“… it won’t change your place here. You make me feel like doing the right thing and looking after you is a pleasure I will always be willing to fulfil.”

“Ben… I don’t… I don’t understand. You’re so together, so sensible. How do you find me sexy? Especially like this.”

“Such compliments,”

he joked, as I became acutely aware of how the front of my body felt, pressed against the soft material of the bed. “You’re the only person who sees yourself like that, you know. I’m done with holding back, Elle. I don’t want to pussyfoot around you. Go on a date with me next Friday.” He paused. “Please?”

“You want to go on a date?”

“Yes.”

“With me? Like this?”

“Topless? I mean, I figured that wasn’t an option, but if you insist—”

I flicked my leg up, gently kicking him. “Stop being a smartass. Yes, I’ll go on a date with you. No, I won’t go topless.”

The mattress shifted again and I felt his lips press gently into the peak of my shoulder, sending pulses of heat through my body. I wanted desperately to arch into him in response.

God, what had I just agreed to? My eyes closed briefly; I couldn’t move away without exposing myself. Not that I had any desire to, but somehow that notion escalated the sensation. I couldn’t believe I’d agreed that easily. I was not in control, and, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t care. It felt right, it felt easy. The less sense it made, the simpler it was to agree.

“Good,”

he said, brushing his lips over my skin again. “I look forward to Friday.”

“I don’t have anything to wear,”

I murmured, still looking at the wall, cutting the building tension with practicality.

“I don’t care what you wear.”

I could feel his breath against my skin. My whole body was on edge, but for once, it wasn’t because I was afraid.

“I think you’d better go, Ben. Being close to you like this is… it’s too nice.”

He moaned low in his throat, planting a slow kiss between my shoulder blades, then another near my neck. My nerves came alive – my skin extra sensitive to the soft, sensual feeling of him. Pain disappeared as parts of me started aching in an entirely different way. Our bodies nearly totally connected as he leaned into me.

I’d had partners when I lived at Henworth, used them as a distraction, and Sam hadn’t exactly been bad in bed. But Ben made me feel a whole new dimension of physical feelings, and he wasn’t even trying that hard.

I couldn’t decide if it was exciting or terrifying.

“That doesn’t make sense,”

he whispered.

I felt myself smile into the pillow. “You know what I mean.”

Ben grunted, and with a swift movement, he withdrew from the bed, causing the mattress to bounce softly.

“I’ll look forward to Friday, then,”

he repeated. “I hope you feel better, let me know if you need anything else. I mean it. Don’t suffer in silence.”