The Stillness Of You(10)

We both glanced up at Amber and I slowly slid back into my seat. Once   again my cock was hard and the reason for it grinned at me as if she   knew.

She winked and then licked her lips.

I'm betting she knew.

After we ordered, and I'd taken a moment to calm the parts of me that   needed calming, I exhaled and said the thing I should have said at the   top of the Rocky steps.

"Hey," I started and then stopped when her clear eyes fastened on me. Would this fucking teenage schoolboy thing ever go away?

"Hey," she answered softly, almost hesitantly, as if she knew I wasn't fooling around anymore.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry about," I cleared my throat and lied   through my teeth. "I'm sorry about the kiss earlier and, you know, I   hope I didn't cross any boundaries."

Fucking lies. All of it. It would be a cold day in hell before I was sorry for kissing Georgia King.

Amber was back with our coffee and after she poured it and left, there were a few moments of silence.

"Don't be sorry," Georgia said softly. "Cuz I'm not."





Chapter Eight





Georgia





I spent every single minute of the Fourth of July with Ben. After a   totally greasy and yummy breakfast, we watched a parade that passed a   few blocks away, and then strolled through Art in the Park, one that   featured a ton of cool stuff, as well as music and dance.

The sun didn't let up, the smell of summer was everywhere, and for the first time in forever I felt … light.

We didn't kiss again-which was a sin because it's all I thought   about-but the flirting was pretty intense. I caught more than a few   people staring at us, though I suppose they might have recognized Ben.

The thought that it was me they recognized crossed my mind, but I   quickly tossed it aside. I knew there was stuff online, pictures and   video from the night my brain had finally imploded and cracked so wide   open there was nothing for me to do but fall in. But it was a pretty far   stretch to think that the old couple who turned as we strolled by, or   the woman sipping her coffee who paused, or the man with the fat golden   retriever recognized me as that crazy girl.

But the flirting.

God, the flirting was addictive. There was a lot of eye contact. There   was the soft touch of his hand at my back, the rough pads of his fingers   lingering just above my shorts. There was Ben bending close to tuck a   loose strand of hair behind my ear. There were a lot of suggestive   comments and jokes.

And god he smelled good. Like a guy should, not prettied up with expensive cologne.

Hours later I was still buzzing-I was buzzing everywhere-and I mean   everywhere. And then I tried to remember the last time I'd had an orgasm   and I decided it was pretty pathetic that I couldn't remember. I   decided that Ben would have been the perfect stress reliever.

It was enough to drive a girl crazy because he was right here. In the loft.

He was in the office.

He was in the office right down the hall from me.

And the thing of it was, the thought of him, the smell of him, the idea   of being with him was enough to get me off and sometime in the night,   there beneath my covers, I used my fingers and the palms of my hands to   get the job done.

I came all by myself, with my hands on my skin and Ben in my head. And for the moment it was enough.                       
       
           



       

In the morning Ben asked me to go with him to meet up with his real   estate agent and even though I wanted to, I found myself saying, no. I   told him that I was meeting someone and that I couldn't get out of it.

"Who?" he had asked.

"Just no one," I replied.

He arched an eyebrow. "A boyfriend?"

"What? No. Just a friend. Seamus." Seamus was my therapist, but he   didn't have to know that. Just like he didn't have to know I had no   plans to meet anyone.

His eyes narrowed slightly, though there was that half smile on his   face, the one that made my insides liquefy. "Seamus, what kind of a name   is that? That sounds like something you'd name a cat."

"That's what I told him the first time we met."

He'd grabbed the keys to his rental. "Alright, Georgia, you have a good   afternoon with your friend, Seamus, and I'll see you later?"

I nodded and watched him leave, wondering why I just hadn't gone with   him. I wanted to. And for several long moments after he left I stood in   the middle of the loft, hating the silence, which was weird, because  for  most of the last year it was all I craved. Silence. That sweet  abyss of  nothingness.

But I suppose it was for the best because I had so many other things to   do. You know, like paint my toenails, or figure out how I was going to   fill the empty canvas that stared at me from across the room.

I was happy to be alone, dammit. Happy to paint or dance or run around naked if I wanted to.

I thought of Ben's kiss and of how awesome his warm hands felt on me and I had to wonder again, why was I here and he was there?

Oh, right because Matt wouldn't approve.

Liar. This has nothing to do with Matt.

Ugh, I hated when that little voice inside my brain was right. I knew it   was bullshit. I was here and he was there because Ben Lancaster scared   the crap out of me.





As it turned out I was alone the entire day and even though my creative   juices weren't what they usually were, I was able to work on a sketch  or  two. And this was good. Making art calmed my mind-it helped me   focus-and when I was focused I was happier than when I was not. And an   unhappy Georgia wasn't good. An unhappy Georgia could turn on a dime.

I'd chatted with Matt, assured him that I was taking my meds but I knew   that wasn't the only thing he was concerned about. I worked it. I made   him ask the question he most wanted to ask. Our conversation went like   this:

"G, you better be taking your meds."

"I am. I'm taking number one and number two." Okay, I lied. I was taking   my lithium, but not the klonopin (I hated the way it made me feel and   the dry mouth was gross) but he didn't need to know that. He didn't  need  to be worried because I was fine.

I am fine.

"I'm going to count them when I get back."

"Knock yourself out." Sheesh, my brother wasn't a dummy so didn't he   know I could flush number two if I wanted to? Didn't he know I did flush   number two when I went in for my morning pee?

"So what have you been doing?"

"Nothing really."

A pause.

"Did Ben find a place that he liked or is he still looking?"

"He found something nice in Haddonfield."

"Oh, cool. Where is he now?"

"Right now?" I said with a grin, moving in for the kill.

"Yes." He sounded irritated. "Right now."

"Right now he's lying beneath me because we're having hot sex in your bed."

"G," he warned.

"Totally naked," I continued with a grin. "Because we're having hot sex in your bed."

"Don't jerk me around." Okay, his irritation was sounding more like anger.

"Whoa, take a chill pill. What's the matter? Heather not giving you any?"

"Heather and I broke up."

Wait. What?

"Oh," I said softly, while I vigorously fist pumped and did a little dance. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you are," he answered, his tone more than a little sarcastic.   "Look, I'll be home tomorrow sometime. I'm stopping in to see a friend   or I'd be back tonight. So … just be good, okay?"

I stopped dancing. Just be good? What was I, five years old?

I frowned and saluted him. "Yes Sir, I'll do my best, Sir."

And then I hung up.

For several moments I stared into the emptiness of the loft, wondering   why his words pissed me off so much and hating the hot prick of tears at   the corners of my eyes. I was twenty-one years old, okay, nearly   twenty-one years old-my birthday was in August-and my older brother   still felt the need to tell me to behave. To be good.                       
       
           



       

To not fuck his million dollar hockey player.

I stalked into the bathroom and glanced in the mirror, chest heaving,   tight and angry. But what was I angry about? The fact that my brother   still didn't trust me? Or the fact that I wanted to fuck Ben Lancaster   so badly, that just thinking about it made me hot. It made me hot and   bothered and horny.

With a sound of disgust, I hopped into the shower and stood under the   spray for a good, long while. I stood there for so long, enjoying the   heat as it sluiced over my skin, that my mind began to wander. It began   to wander toward Ben and slowly my palms and fingers slid over my   stomach, seeking the place between my legs.