Simmering Love (Slow Burn Book 3) Page 13

  “That’s nice,” I say.

  That’s nice? That’s nice?!

  “Who’s your date?”

  “One of Craig’s family, maybe a cousin or something,” he says with a shrug.

  His intense gaze is pinned on me, and I swear he can see into my soul. I build up a wall, and I don’t let the blood run out onto the floor from my broken and bleeding heart.

  “Well, I hope you two have fun,” I say, sitting up a little and reaching down to grab my shoes. I stand and stretch, faking a yawn, and then without looking at him, I head to get my purse.

  I don’t want to chance him seeing the tears gathering in my eyes. I’ve been lying to myself, telling my heart that a guy like him would ever be interested in a girl like me. He probably sees me as just Mason’s cousin, not a woman.

  “Hey, Pep?” he asks from behind me, still on the couch.

  I half-turn my face to him. “Yeah?” By some miracle, my voice doesn’t break.

  “Truth or dare?”

  “Dare.” I can’t take having to uncover a part of myself with a truth right now.

  “I dare you to tell me a truth,” Ben says, and I pause.

  “I don’t know what you mean, Ben.” I covertly wipe a finger under my bottom eyelashes and walk to my room, letting the tears fall once the door clicks shut.

  Ben

  I stare after Pepper as she walks down the hallway. I have whiplash now. One second, we were relaxing on the couch, and the next, she’s gone.

  I’m not sure how to interpret her reaction. I’d thought it would be more clear-cut than what it was, and now, I’m beginning to think that maybe I shouldn’t go on the date after all. But I already called Caroline and asked her out, so I can’t back out on her; that’s not fair.

  I wipe a hand down my face and run through the last five minutes. Me blurting out that I had a date, Pepper not reacting, me figuring she didn’t care, Pepper suddenly tired, me thinking I could get her to talk with Truth or Dare, Pepper shutting me down. I should have just confronted her about it, like Ezra had said.

  I’m such an idiot.

  Maybe she actually is tired. She looked tired. Not that I would ever tell her that. She still looked beautiful, but she really didn’t get to rest over the weekend with her parents being here, and now, I’ve thrown this into the mix.

  I should just lay it out in front of her. Maybe I will after Friday night.

  20

  Pepper

  Friday night, I sit at the checkout counter, silently fuming to myself that Ben is going on a date. It’s my fault. I should have acted sooner. I should have told him how I felt. I should have taken him for myself, but no, I let fear win out, and here I am, a loser sitting at my job tonight, while Ben is out on a hot date. Probably with a six-foot-tall model type with large, perky breasts and a stick-thin body. The complete opposite of me. I’m short. I have curves. My breasts have become friends with gravity.

  With my scowl, I’ve scared off half of the customers sitting and painting in the store, and now, no one is asking any questions.

  Paint is right there. Can’t you see the station that is clearly labeled PAINT?

  Okay, I admit that I didn’t actually say that, but I thought it.

  I shove back from the counter and head to the room directly behind the checkout area to rearrange the pottery placed on racks for the third time since I got here. They aren’t perfectly aligned yet, and I need them to be. I’m itching to grab a piece of blank pottery and sit down at a table, completely losing myself to the creative task, but I’m destined to stay here and think that Ben might be on his last first date ever with the absolute love of his life.

  What if they invite me to the wedding? Of course they would invite me to the wedding. I couldn’t say no. I would have to go. I think I would rather gouge my eyes out with the blunt end of a paintbrush at the freaking paint station than sit through a wedding where I had to watch Ben kiss a six-foot-tall bimbo.

  The bell over the door chimes, and I sigh. I close my eyes and bring my hands up, shaking them out and visualizing all the tension leaving my body. I head back toward the counter, smiling as I begin to welcome the newest customers.

  “Welcome to P—” My words cut off, and I’m pretty sure if I had been sitting on a stool, I would have fallen off and onto the floor.

  Ben and his date are standing in front of me. I think my entire face drains of color, and a small layer of sweat breaks out on my upper lip. I covertly reach over for a tissue while their eyes follow my progress, and my hand slaps the desk several times before I find the tissue box. Ben’s face looks white, like he can’t believe he’s here right now but it’s his date. He shouldn’t be surprised.

  I clear my throat and smile broadly. “Welcome to Pottery Palace. Can I help you?” I decide to go with a formal approach, especially given Ben’s weirdness to me.

  “Hi, um …” The girl squints to read my name tag, and I shift, so it’s closer to her face and her apparent nearsightedness. “Pepper. What a fun name.” She says fun as if she doesn’t really mean it.

  “Yep,” I say, somehow keeping a smile on my face after the entire fifteen seconds it took her to read my name tag and formulate her witty response.

  “Hey, uh, Pep. What do we do?” Ben leans forward, placing his hands on the counter in front of us, not really looking at me.

  I study the length and width of them as if I were memorizing them to sculpt later before finally dragging my gaze back up to his.

  “Pep? You guys know each other?” His date cocks a finely manicured eyebrow on her attractive face, and she tucks a strand of her straight blonde hair behind one ear.

  “I’m his roommate,” I say with another wide smile, probably one that looks like I could be a manic serial killer.

  “Oh,” she says, furrowing her brow and looking between me and Ben before she steps closer to him and wraps a hand around his arm. Exactly where mine was wrapped the day he took me on errands.

  That’s my spot on his arm, woman.

  “I didn’t know we were coming here until I pulled up,” Ben says, and I’m not sure if he’s explaining himself to me or his date.

  “So, you pick out what you want to paint, and then all the supplies—brushes, stencils, paint, and palettes—are over there.” I jerk my thumb toward the wall. “You pay once you’re done. It takes about a week to finish the cooking and setting process, and then you can come pick it up. Or I can bring it home to Benjamin, if you’d prefer.” I give the date another smile as she frowns at me.

  “We can pick them up, no problem,” she says.

  We. We, we, we.

  “Great!” My voice sounds fake, even to my ears. “Can I get a name for the ticket?”

  “Ben and Caroline,” Caroline supplies, a smirk on her face.

  “Okay. Y’all are all set. Have a seat wherever,” I say, pasting a smile on. I mentally congratulate myself on keeping it together and not launching across the counter like a spider monkey and pulling every bit of Caroline’s blonde hair from her skull.

  I busy myself with typing on the computer, cleaning up the desk area, filing paid tickets, and putting the containers, stapler, tape, and odds and ends in perfect rows. I most definitely do not watch them pick pottery—Ben gets a dog, and Caroline picks out a doughnut coffee mug—or paint—Ben’s dog will be black and white, and Caroline’s doughnut mug will be pink with rainbow sprinkles. Every once in a while, Ben looks my way, a frown on his face, but I try to ignore them.

  I head to the back to check the shelves of pottery for the fourth time. Yep, right where I left them. I wander around, wiping down surfaces, and then I go back out to the main floor to clean paint palettes left by the sink. Once I’m done, I glance around the room, eyeing tables and seeing if I can get anyone anything. Finally, my eyes fall on Ben and Caroline. She’s leaning toward him, laughing, while he brushes paint on his dog. Her hand reaches out and rests on his forearm, and I can feel my face turning red.

  I turn and
make my way back to the counter to pull out my phone.

  Pepper: He’s here.

  Andi: Who?

  Pepper: Ben. Try to keep up.

  Andi: ON HIS DATE?!?! *surprised face emoji*

  Pepper: Yes. *sad face emoji*

  Andi: What a douche canoe.

  Pepper: Guess this means he really doesn’t like me.

  Andi: What if he brings her back to the apartment?!

  Pepper: Not. Helping.

  Andi: Sorry. Want to stay with me tonight? I have wine and ice cream.

  Pepper: Yeah. I’ll run home after work and then head your way.

  Sighing, I put my phone back in my pocket and put my chin in my hand, resting my elbow on the counter. I angle my face away from the one person I want to look at and don’t want to look at, at the same time.

  Baroline.

  Carojamin.

  Benjaline.

  At least they won’t have a cute couple name. Not like us.

  Bepper. Who can beat that?

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ben stand up and make his way back to the paint station, and my head turns to follow him without my consent. Until I see Caroline glaring at me from the table. I quickly glance away, trying to look busy, but since I manically cleaned everything earlier, there isn’t anything to do.

  Once Ben sits back down, Caroline leans over and whispers something to him, and I watch in horror as his gaze shoots to me. Those piercing brown eyes meet mine, and I want to sink through the floor right then and there.

  What did she tell him? Are my irrational fears coming true? Does anyone else hear wedding bells?

  I don’t look at them again until they are standing in front of me at the counter, their painted pieces with them.

  “All done?” I ask as I ring them up.

  Caroline smiles and leans her head over on his shoulder, and Ben moves a little, shaking her off as he reaches for his wallet.

  My mind is in a fog as I open the register and deposit his money before retrieving the change.

  I drop it in his palm, making sure I don’t touch his hand, and then look up to meet his eyes. “Don’t forget that these will be ready in a week. Thanks for coming. To paint. Thanks for coming to paint.”

  Caroline’s gaze narrows on me, and she gives me a small smile that looks more like a sneer before wrapping a claw around his hand and turning to leave.

  “Thanks, Peppa,” she says over her shoulder.

  “It’s Pepper,” I grumble, grabbing their painted pottery and depositing it on the appropriate shelf.

  They are gone when I come back out, and I breathe a sigh of relief. All the air was sucked out of the room for the last hour and a half, but now, I can finally relax.

  I clean up their table, contemplating taking the palettes and brushes home to burn in a séance behind our apartment, but then I realize I don’t want the supplies taken out of my paycheck. I drum my fingers on the counter before pulling out my phone to check the time. I’m almost off, and then I can go home, grab my stuff, and head to Andi’s.

  Thank goodness for friends.

  When I pull into the apartment, I immediately see Ben’s truck.

  Great.

  The last thing I need is to walk in on him and Caroline getting cozy on our couch. Or God forbid, hear noises coming from his room. This is a nightmare. But I’ve got to get myself together, woman up, and get my stuff. Maybe it would be good for me to see something, help me quickly kill my flame of interest instead of dying a slow death.

  I unlock the door, turn the knob, and push, glancing around before stepping inside. I don’t see anyone, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Close the door, Pepper,” Ben says, making me jump from where he’s hidden behind the open door, sitting on the couch.

  “You scared me,” I say, stepping in farther and peeking around.

  No Caroline.

  “We need to talk.”

  Just what I wanted to hear.

  “What do we need to talk about?” My voice comes out in a squeak, and I make myself walk in.

  My eyes are huge as I watch him stand and walk toward me until he’s right in front of me, his face hard and his chest rising and falling with heaving breaths. He reaches out to grip my chin between his finger and thumb, and he pulls up, raising my face toward him. Before I can speak a word, he lowers his mouth to mine, and a groan leaves his throat, igniting my body. The only part of our bodies touching at that moment are our mouths, but I feel like his entire being covers me.

  I push closer to him, and his arms come around, resting on my lower back, pulling me to him, as he angles his head, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips before I relent and open, letting him in to taste me. The blood rushing through my ears sounds deafening, and my brain can’t work fast enough to catch up with what is happening right now. My body acts on instinct, lifting my arms to fasten around his neck, pulling his head closer to mine, and I breathe him in—his scent, his body wash, his aftershave, all mingling together to create a hypnotic scent.

  He pulls away slightly, but I don’t open my eyes. I don’t want this to end, and if I stay standing here, never looking, then he won’t finish pulling away, he won’t have regret on his face, and he won’t walk out of here, cursing me and himself for starting this.

  To my absolute pleasure, he doesn’t pull away more than a fraction of an inch. His face hovers above mine, and my thumbs stroke his neck while I grin like a lunatic with my eyes closed, my heart beating a mile a minute.

  Our gazes connect, and instead of regret, I see a mix of emotions, but they are all eclipsed by the wide smile on his face, aimed right at my soul. I step back, clearing my throat and looking around before bringing my eyes back to Ben’s.

  “Hey,” I say in a whisper.

  “Hey.” His smile gets wider.

  I’m momentarily blinded by how stunning he is. And he kissed me. Me.

  “Where’s Caroline?” I ask, looking around in confusion. “Weren’t you just on a date, or did I dream that up? Oh my God, is this a dream?” I reach up to touch my lips, praying that I’m not about to wake up in my bed.

  “Caroline is gone,” Ben says, causing my already-muddled mind to be even more confused. “I couldn’t go any further with it, not when I know what I want isn’t her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Truth or dare?” he counters, not answering my question.

  “Truth,” I say, feeling bold and terrified.

  “Would you like to go on a date with me?” he asks.

  I reach out to place my palm over his heart, where it’s thumping wildly underneath his shirt.

  “I would love to go on a date with you,” I whisper and lean up on my tiptoes to place another peck on his lips, but I can’t quite reach.

  Curse this shortness.

  Ben brings his head down to meet mine, and I sigh as soon as our lips touch again. It’s not a dream. I’m really kissing Ben.

  “Are you free tomorrow night?” he asks, breaking the kiss.

  I groan. I can’t handle this. Now that I’ve tasted the soft, pliable lips that Ben has, I will never go back. I’m ruined for all other men. I lean back up, my mouth searching for his, but he puts his hands on my shoulders, keeping me in place while cocking an eyebrow.

  “No,” I say, wanting to cry. “I have to work.” I mentally pull up the schedule to see who I have to con into taking my shift.

  “What about the night after?”

  “I can’t wait that long,” I say with a moan.

  Ben lets out a chuckle. I want to capture it on my phone and make it my ringtone.

  Not the weirdest thing you’ve ever thought.

  “What time does your shift end tomorrow?”

  “Nine.”

  “Want me to cook you a late dinner?”

  I stare at him.

  “You sure?” I cock an eyebrow, my hands skating up his chest.

  “Yes.” He takes his hands from my shoulders, and I acutely feel the loss
of warmth.

  “I would love that,” I say, glancing up from beneath my eyelashes.

  Goose bumps break out across my body as he places his hands around my waist. His palms heating my skin and his light breaths skating across my neck make me shiver.

  It’s not like I’ve never been touched by a guy. I’ve rounded some bases, but nothing has ever felt like this. I feel like I could come just from breathing Ben’s scent. I don’t know what it is. You always read in books that they smell like pine and spice or vanilla and musk. I don’t know how else to describe Ben’s scent but orgasmic, and I wouldn’t mind being able to bottle it up and bathe in it every time I shower.

  As he pulls me to him, his fingers digging into the skin at my waist sends an immediate flood of wetness to my panties.

  Niagara Falls ain’t got nothin’ on me.

  I grab Ben’s hand, pulling him toward the couch, and push him slightly, so he knows to sit down. Taking out my phone, I pull up Andi’s name and fire off a message, letting her know I won’t be coming over tonight. Sometimes, I just have to grab life by the horns, and that’s what I’m doing right now.

  I straddle Ben’s legs, sitting down, and then lean forward, cradling his face in my hands. He doesn’t wait for me, as he presses his lips to mine again, and I scoot up, pressing my breasts into his chest. I can feel his dick underneath me, hard and long, and I squirm a little, the sensation foreign but not uncomfortable.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you for forever,” I say as I pull back, smiling at him.

  “Same,” he murmurs before laying sweet pecks along my jawline as I tilt my head up. He presses his head into the side of my neck, wrapping his strong arms around me and pulling me into a tight hug. “I can’t wait for our date.”

  “Me either,” I tell him as I turn, sliding sideways off of him and grabbing his shirt to pull him down to lie with me, the big spoon to my little spoon.

  21

  Pepper

  How does one prepare for a date that takes place at her apartment with the guy she lives with?