I turned in a full circle, my decision made as I nodded.
"Yeah, it is."
Chapter Six
Georgia
I was up at my usual four in the morning staring at the bottle of klonopin in my hands. I'd shoved it beneath the underwear in my top drawer because I hated looking at it, but this morning I sat on the edge of my bed, fingers running along the top of the container as I stared at concrete evidence that yes, I was damaged.
I wasn't whole or normal, no matter how much I tried to forget about what the pills I took meant, or how when my mind started to race, it was enough to freak me the hell out and I would eat klonopin like it was fucking candy.
I was afraid to take the drug on a regular basis because of Zoe. She was a girl I met when I was in the hospital and she'd been totally addicted to klonopin. She lived and breathed the shit and it made her into a real life zombie. The Walking Dead had nothing on her. She was a boring, washed out walker, who did nothing but read the same book over and over again and haunt the halls of Oak Run in pajamas with little pink panthers all over them. God, she didn't even wash her hair unless one of the nurses helped her.
I had a feeling she traded sexual favors from some of the other patients, in exchange for their klonopin. Drugs were easy enough to hide if you knew what to do.
I knew I was supposed to take klonopin regularly in addition to my regular dose of lithium, but I was so afraid of the addiction and how the pills made me feel, that I'd been weaning myself off them for several weeks now. I wasn't having too much trouble sleeping and I hadn't had a manic episode since the infamous walk through the quad next to my dorm dressed in only my underwear, brandishing a confiscated steak knife.
I wasn't back there anymore. I wasn't. I was good. I was calm and as long as I kept taking my lithium I'd be fine.
I'll be fine.
With a sigh, I fell off of bed and tossed the bottle back into my underwear drawer before crossing the room to stand by the window, so that I could look into the dark. This was my favorite time of day, this little slip of time between sleep and awake and down there it was quiet and calm.
It was also officially the Fourth of July and Ben wanted to celebrate. He was thrilled that he'd managed to get hold of the real estate agent in charge of the house, and he was to meet with her on Saturday, the fifth.
He was making an offer. He was here to stay.
I let my blinds slip back into place and paced my room a bit, my mind reeling back as I thought of the night before and how I'd fallen under his spell as surely as if he'd made me drink a Ben Lancaster potion.
I wanted him in a way I'd never experienced before, not with anyone. Not even Travis Bartlett, the guy I'd given my virginity too after months of heavy petting and night that had included a bottle of vodka and a half a bag of weed. This was different. This was grown up and real and I had no clue how to deal with it.
I wanted Ben Lancaster in a way that ached. It was as if in the space of a few days, he'd leeched into my bones or his soul had somehow melted into mine. Was that even possible? Or was I delusional?
I glanced back at my underwear drawer, a frown on my face. Had I overdone the lithium? Should I be taking the klonopin or was my mind just scrambled and confused? Was it possible that I was reading everything wrong?
An image of his dark eyes assaulted me and my heart jumped. No way had I misread things. What I was feeling was real. It was real and it was amazing.
Ben Lancaster was like the yummiest piece of chocolate ever. And it wasn't just because he was the hottest guy I'd ever met. Sure, he could give any movie star a run for their money with his tall, dark good looks and a body to die for. He was completely and utterly lickable, fuckable and wildly successful. But I'd been around guys like him before-I'd fucked guys like him before-yet he was different.
I didn't want to fuck Ben. I wanted to matter.
Ben Lancaster was the whole package. He was smart, funny, with a wicked sense of humor. He had his shit together. I could tell. The guy wasn't out partying every night, banging chicks because he could, and trust me, if he wanted to have sex with a different girl or two every night he could.
I can't lie. I'd done some research-Google can be a girl's best friend these days-but there was nothing to find. I looked at pictures of him while he'd played with the Kings and even a few of him at the clubs, but there were no wild stories, no inappropriate photos or videos.
He seemed to be the guy every girl dreamed about bringing home, and he was so far from what I deserved that I just knew if we acted on our attraction, it would end badly.
Ben Lancaster was the total opposite of me. Of what I had been and what I was afraid to become once more. And I didn't know what to do about it.
I felt his interest. The way his eyes lingered a tad too long or his hands touched the small of my back whenever he could. We'd spent the entire day together and by evening my body thrummed with repressed passion and the need to connect.
We'd stopped for dinner at a little Italian place on our way back to the loft, and it seemed as if only a few hours had passed, but it was nearly midnight by the time we made it back.
We'd talked about his plans for the house and I was more than happy to sit and listen to him. In that moment, I didn't want to be anywhere else but with him. I wanted to be in his orbit, to soak up his energy and goodness. I wanted to crawl into his lap, sink my hands into his hair and open his mouth with my own.
I'd watched him and I had wondered what it felt like to be with him. To get naked with him. To have sex with him because surely laying down with Ben Lancaster wasn't anything like the hookups I'd had in the past.
That's because my hookups over the last few years were usually drug and alcohol fueled.
My cheeks were hot and I swore as I grabbed my running gear out of the closet.
Shit, I needed to focus on something other than Ben Lancaster. The clock beside my bed glowed nearly five now and I threw my hair into a ponytail, pulled on my running gear, and headed for the kitchen to grab water.
I'd just opened the fridge door when that familiar sliver of energy told me I wasn't alone anymore.
I turned around-as nonchalantly as I could-and hoped he couldn't see the exploding pulse at the base of my neck. Already my nipples were pebbling and I thanked everything that was holy-or even remotely holy-that I'd worn my padded bra with the extra inch of padding.
I had to take a second or two before I could even speak, and used a few more to study him in the dim lighting.
He hadn't shaved, so his jaw was once again shadowed with dark stubble. God, I loved that look-that I just got out of bed and I'm all man, kind of look. His hair was rumpled as if it hadn't been brushed, though he was dressed in a Nike T-shirt, nylon shorts and he wore running shoes. He smelled of mint toothpaste. My favorite.
"I thought I'd join you."
Shit, his voice touched on that note again, the one that gave me shivers and I cleared my throat, hoping I wouldn't squeal like a stupid mouse when I eventually managed to say a few words.
"Oh. Good, I mean I hope you can keep up to me." Idiot. The guy could probably run a four minute mile and not even break a sweat.
"I'll try, but promise you'll go easy on me."
His grin was contagious. "We'll see," I answered lightly, tossing him a bottle.
"I thought maybe we could run the Rocky steps?"
I laughed and shook my head. The Rocky steps. He was adorable. "Sure, follow me."
We headed out into the quiet early morning, and followed the trails of fog that fell along the sidewalks. There were a few other runners out, but it felt like we had the world to ourselves and for the moment I enjoyed both the silence and the feel of Ben running beside me.
We didn't say much. We just put one foot in front of the other and by the time we reached the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the sun was peeking through the darkness. I stopped at the bottom and glanced around. We had the place to ourselves.
Ben's damp T-shirt clung to his chest and stretched across his wide shoulders, and as he turned slightly I couldn't help but notice the way it clung to his back, filling in all the hard nooks and crannies of his very male body. When I dragged my gaze up to his face, my heart jerked so badly I almost choked. His eyes were on me and the look within them made the heat in my belly curl hard and fast.