On an Edge of Glass (34 page)

I snap my mouth closed
but I think that he’s probably right.  I’ve already swallowed a swarm of flies and they’re buzzing around inside of me.  

I look in the direction of the barista counter
.  Ben must understand my silent thoughts.  “Mark went out the side door,” he says.  After a pause he clarifies further. “I texted him fifteen minutes ago and asked him to bring you here.”

“
Why?” 

Ben smiles that crooked half-smile.  The one that’s made of hollowed out edges and loose heartbeats.  It kills me every time.  “
Why did I ask Mark to bring you to meet me here?”

I nod slightly.
   

He glances down and sweeps his hand across the small table like he’s brushing away crumbs. 
“Because I wanted to tell you that I had my remote audition tonight and I got offered the cello chair in San Francisco.  The audition ran over and that’s why I was late to the gallery.”

I’m not
sure what I thought Ben was going to say, but this isn’t it.  I drop my face so that he can’t see my features caving in.  “Oh,” I murmur, and even that one word feels like it’s choking me.

The legs of Ben’s
chair scrape against the tile floor as he scoots closer.  Now his kneecap is touching mine.  Gently, like he’s concerned that my bones might shatter, he picks up my hand and brings it to his lap.  I gasp. 

“They told me that they needed a definite answer right away. 
Earlier I thought about saying yes, but then everything changed.”  He clears his throat.  “When I left the gallery, I was calling them back to turn down the job.”

I’m afraid to look up. 
I’m afraid of Ben’s eyes reaching into mine and the anxious hope that’s wrapping its way around my chest. 

“Why would you do that?”
  I ask the table.  I’m hardly moving—hardly breathing.  

“
Ellie, please look at me.”  He pulls my chin up with his finger and I see his mouth curving into a soft smile.  My heart rattles. 

“Why
would you do that?”  I repeat, blinking away the salty tears that have turned my lashes into soggy webs. 

Ben shrugs.  “I turned it down because of you.”

I don’t know what to say.  I think I’m trembling.  It’s like that moment in betwee
n sleeping and waking, when gravity might suddenly reverse and you could tumble heels over head.  Like falling up into the sky to join the stars. 

“You can’t—
I-I—”  My voice is turned inside out.  “What about your future?”

Ben stands. 
He pulls me up with him.  “Did you mean what you said earlier?” 

“What—which part?”  I ask, and I’m shaking my head back and forth because I don’t know what else to do with it.

“The part when you said that you were in love with me.
” His eyes are like two doors, swinging open on their hinges.  I want to walk right through them and see what’s on the other side.

“
Yes.”

“
Good.”  He takes my head in his hands and brushes his lips along the skin of my neck.  I shiver.  “Because I don’t think that I can stop loving you.  I tried, but I couldn’t do it. 
You’re
my future, Ellie.  I can play music anywhere, but you’re only going to be in one place.”

“But you can’t
just—”

“Yeah, I can.”
  He laughs.  “Look, haven’t you ever heard that musicians play from the heart?  Well, I can’t be expected to play in California when my heart’s over two thousand miles away.”

Three words.  They’re all I have.  “I love you.”

He’s smiling and there’s that perfect dimple on his cheek.  “I love you back—in a big and epic way.”

T
hat’s all it takes.  We’re kissing and my heart is bursting, and my lungs are cracking, and the earth is rumbling beneath my feet.  Ben threads his hands into my hair.  His tongue moves over mine—searing me.  He’s tipping me back, back, back.  And I’m, slipping, dissolving into him.

“Ahh—hem!”
  The sound breaks us apart.

Good God, I’m panting.  But then again, so is Ben. 
 

A blue-haired guy wearing a
black apron is scowling at us.  “We’re getting ready to close,” he says gruffly as he turns back to cleaning out the coffee machine.

Ben
takes my hands.  His forehead drops against mine.  We’re both smiling hard.

He kisses my nose.  He m
oves his hands over my waist and squeezes my hipbone.

“Let’s go home,”
he whispers against my mouth.

O
ur bare limbs are woven together like the crisscrossing streets on a roadmap. Ben is over me.  He drags his fingers over my exposed ribs.  He is torturing me—slowly consuming every single inch of me. 
To make up for lost time,
he said. 

I think that I might spontaneously combust. 

He’s kissing the soft, pale skin of my wrist.  Then he moves up my arm to the inside of my bicep.  Next, his tongue makes slow circles in between my breasts while his hands dip lower. 

I arc my back off the bed and pull at his hair.  “Ben…”

Above my heart, his mouth pauses.  “Do you know how much I’ve thought about you?  About doing this?”  He moves his hand.   

             
I can’t speak, but I do make a whimpering sound that Ben interprets as encouragement.

             
“You’re so beautiful, Ellie.”  He kisses my belly button.  His hands brush my naked thighs.  His eyelashes flutter against my skin as he kisses up and down my body.  My head is back against the pillow, and I’m squeezing the sheets, saying things that don’t make sense.  Ben and his relentless mouth are going to rip me apart.  

             
Using the last of my strength, I pull him up over me.  I crush my lips to his and taste his breath and his secrets. 

             
Pushing loose strands of hair away from my eyes, I ask, “Do you know how much I’ve thought about
you
?  About doing
this
?”  I drop my hand and Ben’s eyes go round. 

             
Later, he holds me against his chest and tells me that he loves me for the hundredth time tonight. 

             
“Are you getting sick of that?”  He asks.  His eyes reflect the pearly moonlight. 

             
I bark out a laugh.  “Are you kidding?”

             
Even in the dark, I can make out the corners of his smile.

             
“That night…” he starts.

  
              I wrinkle my forehead.  “Which one?”

             
Ben’s rubs his palm over my stomach.  “In Asheville.”

             
“Ahhh,” I say, kissing that freckle that I love.  The one on his chest.

             
“I should have told you then.  That’s why I came to your room.  I’d decided to tell you that I loved you.”  He pauses.   “Obviously, I bailed on that plan.”                  

“
And, if I had been more honest with you from day one, we could have skipped out on a lot of trouble.”

He twists my hair between his fingers.  His voice is low.  “I should have told you the truth about Lily.  Even
though things with her were over and done with before I met you—you had a right to know the entire story.”

“
Well, I wish that I had given you more of a chance to explain.”

“I should have
pushed harder to make you listen to me.”

“Shoulda-woulda-
coulda…”  Placing my hand on his chest, I push him back flat against the mattress and straddle his hips.  I kiss over his collarbone and the warm skin of his neck.  I run my hands down his arms.  “We both made mistakes, but we can’t go back.”  I feel him nod against me as I taste his mouth.  “We can only move forward.”

“Together,” he whispers, his arms encircling my waist and rolling me over.

I close my eyes and wait for the stars to explode.  “Together.”

“What is this thing?”

              I turn away from the cardboard box that I’m unpacking.  Ben is walking in through the door.  In one arm he’s got a white floor lamp, and in the other he’s carrying what looks like a ginormous fleece bootie with a cord attached to it. 

             
I squint and pucker my mouth.  “I have no idea what that is.  I guess you should just set it in the living room over by the couch for now.”

             
He shakes his head and walks toward the living room.  There are about a dozen more boxes for us to go through in there.

             
Moving sucks.  Big time. 

             
I glance around my new bedroom.  It’s actually pretty spacious by New York standards.  There’s a large window that takes up almost the entire eastern wall.  The good news is that it lets in a lot of natural light.  The bad news is that it overlooks a trash-filled back alley.

             
I sigh.  I shouldn’t complain about anything.  I’m
here
.  In New York.  And my dream internship begins next week. 

Ben will start
practicing with his new symphony sometimes in late June.  Meanwhile, the guys from Accidental Sweet Tea are already setting up some new gigs.  Taylor texted twenty minutes ago that he had a lead on a club in Brooklyn that’s interested in booking them next month.

Then, when the fall rolls around
, I start my first year at Fordham—a law school right here in New York.  Even my parents seem happy with my choice. 

I set a stack of New York City map
s on the ledge of my window.  Ainsley shoved them in my bag yesterday as we said a teary goodbye.  I check the time on my phone.  She should be landing in Atlanta in the next half hour and I’ll give her a call to make sure that the trip went well.  She accepted a position as a social worker down there so that she could be closer to her family.  Brandon and his pleated pants are looking for a job nearby.   

Payton moved out of the house right after graduation two weeks ago.  She’s sp
ending the summer backpacking in Europe with her friends Hedda and Dominic.  After that, it’s all up in the air.  She claims that she wants to see where the world takes her.

Sometime before she comes back to the states, she’s
going to make a stop in London to see Hannah, who never did come back from England.  We ended up shipping the bulk of her personal stuff to her parents in Canterbury and giving the rest of the stuff away.  As it turns out, she and the English guy actually got engaged.  The wedding date is set for November and all of us are going to try to make it to the wedding—Ben included.

“Hey babe!”  I call out.
“When you get a chance, can you help me get that new bookshelf put together?  I have nowhere to put any of this crap that I’m unpacking.” 

I pull out a picture frame wrapped in bubble wrap.
  It holds a photograph that was taken at graduation.  Ben’s got his arm around my shoulders and he’s kissing my cheek.  I set it flat on the small table next to the bed.

             
Ben sneaks up behind me and grabs my hips.  His mouth is on my neck, raining a hundred tiny kisses along my skin.  “Anything for you, love.”

             
“Mmmmm…”  I spin and drape my arms over his shoulders.  “Maybe the bookshelf and the rest of this stuff can wait for a bit?”

             
He grins.  His fingers inch around my waist toward the button of my shorts.  “Considering that we’re officially grown-ups now,” he says as he kisses a path from my earlobe to my mouth.  “I was thinking that in the name of responsibility, we should test out the bed to make certain that I set the frame up right.  I’m not entirely sure that it’s safe for sleeping.”

              “Huh,” I say, licking my lips.  “I wouldn’t want to get hurt in the middle of the night.”

             
He’s shaking his head and smiling.  “Noooo…”  His mouth finds that spot just below my ear that makes me fall apart.  His hands are—

             
“Ermahgerd!  Get a freaking room!”

             
I jump back.  Mark is standing just outside my bedroom door holding a pink flamingo statuette.  His face is contorted in a grimace of disgust. 

             
“We are in a room!”  I volley back.  “My
bedroom
—in case you missed that, Mark.”