Under the Orange Moon (19 page)

Ben chuckled. “I just got here.”

She could smell the alcohol on his breath now. “I see,” she said, sitting back. “You went out with my brothers then?”

Ben nodded drunkenly. He leaned into her lap and nuzzled his face into her stomach. “You smell good,” he slurred, his voice muffled from her shirt.

“I’m sure I don’t. I’ve been working all night.”

Ben slid his hands inside her shirt and felt for her bra. He unhooked it from the back and grabbed at her breast in the front. She didn’t stop him. Part of her wanted his hands on her. Maybe it would feel the same as before and their lives could just go on as if they hadn’t skipped a beat.

She ran her fingers through his hair as he groped her drunkenly. She knew this wasn’t an emotional display of affection by any means. She was well aware that his heart was nowhere near this but, with a pathetic desperation, she hoped he would remember a time when it was.

Dylan leaned back and allowed him to fall on top of her. He kissed her, and it was a kiss she didn’t recognize, rough and messy. He wasn’t gentle or patient as he forced his tongue into her mouth and grinded against her. He seemed to not even be in his own head.

“Ben,” Dylan said with her hands on his chest. She pushed his heavy body up. “Ben, stop.”

He abruptly sat up, leaning on his hands. He seemed to snap out of it as he stared down at her. His face donned a look of surprise, like he had forgotten who he was with. Still befuddled in his drunken state, he leaned his head back down and nuzzled it up into her neck and hair. He relaxed into her arms and sighed, sending a gust of hot air against her skin.

“Sleep,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. “Just sleep.”

Ben seemed to pass out quickly. Naturally, his hand remained resting on her breast. His jeans and shoes were still on. He felt like dead weight on top of her, but she didn’t mind. He was there and that was all that mattered.

Ben managed to sneak out of Dylan’s grasp quietly enough. He had been awake for some time, standing over the bed and staring down at her peaceful face. He forced himself to walk away, knowing he shouldn’t have been there to begin with.              

As he moved down the stairs, he tried to walk as quickly as possible. The chances of Jonah and his brothers being awake so early in the morning were very slim, but Linda was sure to be up and lurking throughout the house.

When he stepped into the empty kitchen, he sighed a bit in relief, knowing from there he could say he was in Jonah’s room. He reached the sliding glass door and opened it slowly, ready for his quick escape. 

“You know,” a voice said from behind him, “they may not see it, but I do.”

Ben turned to face Meredith, who stood in the laundry room with a shoebox in one hand and a wedding planner in the other. She had obviously just come in from the garage, and stood like a statue to stare at him with a disapproving glare.

“See what?” Ben asked, rolling his eyes. He didn’t really care for her to elaborate, but he figured she would, with or without an invitation.

She smirked and stepped closer to him. She placed her belongings down on the table and rested her hands on her hips in a scolding manner. “What you’re doing to Dylan. You do know what you’re doing, right?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Absolutely.” She grinned sarcastically and continued. “Because I don’t care about you like everyone else in this house does. I care about Dylan.”

“Could you get to the point?”

“Gladly.”

Ben raised his eyebrows and waited for her to continue. He heard what she was saying to him but, during her irritating nagging, he also tried to see what Charlie saw in her and silently pitied him for being stuck with her forever.

“For a minute there I thought they were wrong about you, but I see now that I was the one who was wrong. You obviously can’t handle love.” Meredith moved closer and spoke quietly. “You’re only going to hurt her, Ben. I know you don’t want that.”

He nodded slowly. His gut turned, knowing she was right. His mother had been right; he was poison to anyone that loved him. More importantly, he was lethal to anyone that he loved in return.

“If you care about her, or her family, you’ll let her go.”

“Don’t talk to me about this family. Who the hell are you, anyway? You’ve been here for what, ten seconds?” he asked sharply. He stopped himself from going on, keeping his respect for Charlie in the back of his mind.

Meredith smiled and rolled her eyes. “Ben, I could care less if you don’t like me. I don’t really like you, to be honest. I want you to think about Dylan. You know I’m right.”

“Thanks for the chat,” he said, and slipped out the door.

Meredith watched him leave and was well aware of the line she had crossed. The love that Charlie and his family had for Ben ran deep in very different ways for all of them. The boys loved him like a brother, Linda as a son. They didn’t understand the depth it went for Dylan, though. Sure they teased her, but that just made sense. They didn’t really believe the extent of it and they surely wouldn’t support it now. In Meredith’s mind, she was protecting them all, including Ben.

Michael watched sympathetically as Dylan made multiple shots and wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. She was slammed and exhausted, but there was no way she would admit defeat during an NBA rush. Countless orders came in, one after another. Dylan raced around robotically as if her mind was on nothing else. She was a machine.

As she stood at the register, closing out her cash tabs, Michael came to her from behind and placed two hands on her small shoulders. “Take a break, Dylan,” he demanded gently.

“I don’t need a break,” Dylan answered with a fake smile.

“Yes, you do. Everyone needs a break.” Michael’s lips pursed. “That’s not a request. Go outside and get some air.”

Dylan threw her bar towel at his chest and pushed past him. She walked through the kitchen and swung the back door open. As she walked outside, she kicked a bucket over and collapsed onto an orange crate that was setting just outside the back entrance to the bar.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to punch someone. She wanted Ben to appear, but not slip out while she was sleeping. Why didn’t he want her? When her father died, Ben was what she wanted. Ben was all she
needed
. She cried into his lap and couldn’t have felt better with his hands stroking her hair.

She cried into her hands. She sobbed and shook as she tried to catch her breath. It was so unlike her to weep uncontrollably. It made her feel so weak.

A hand rubbed her shoulder. Dylan looked up and met Michael’s compassionate eyes. He half smiled as he continued to stroke her shoulder.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Dylan,” he began gently, “but, I’m here if you want to talk.”

Without thinking, Dylan stood up and fell into his chest. She sobbed, soaking his shirt through, she was positive. She let her arms fall limp at her sides as Michael held her there, resting his chin on her head and swaying gently.

“Dylan,” he whispered as he stroked her long hair. “Shhh, don’t cry.”

Dylan continued to sob into Michael and, for a moment, pretended his arms were Ben’s. His chest didn’t feel like Ben’s chest, and his scent was off, but his hold would do for now. She couldn’t help it; he was the one that was there.

Michael placed both hands on her cheeks and just about buried his face into the long locks of her hair, inhaling deep and long. He smelled her hair in the familiar way that Ben always did. He rested his chin back on her head, and whispered, “Everything will be okay.”

Suddenly, Dylan didn’t feel okay. She realized this might be too comfortable for Michael and decided to pull away. “I’m sorry,” she said through a shaky breath.” I don’t know what came over me.”

Michael laughed and hung on to her waist. “It’s all right. You seemed to have needed a friendly hug.”

“Yes, a
friend
would be nice.”

“May I ask what happened?” he asked, still with his hands on her.

Dylan shook her head and stepped out of his hold. She put her hand on the knob of the door and opened it slightly. “It’s nothing,” she insisted, and stepped inside.

It was something, though. Something she couldn’t say out loud. The days were counting down until Ben left, and he still treated her as if the last several weeks hadn’t happened. Plagued with the sickening feeling, she knew that he was going to leave without her.

They went back to their busy night and worked side by side. Dylan felt a release she couldn’t describe. She chalked it up to just needing a hug and thought nothing more of it from there. Michael, on the other hand, would think of it for the rest of the night, she was sure.

Michael and Dylan worked well with one another when they double teamed the bar. When they really got into a groove, it almost looked rehearsed the way she would go under as he went over. He would grab a bottle from a high place he was sure she couldn’t reach, despite the fact she didn’t even ask for it. He worked one end and she the other. They were always in sync as they moved up and down the rail.

The game ended and the bar pretty much cleared with only a few patrons remaining. The two cleaned up from their rush and decided to reward themselves with a shot while they took a breather.

Dylan hopped up and sat on top of the bar, just at the end. She folded her legs and popped open a beer to add to her shot.

“You feeling a bit better?” Michael asked.

Dylan shook her head and looked down. “Only when I don’t think.”

“This must be why I’ve been seeing so much of you then?”

Dylan took a refreshing drink from her bottle. “I suppose,” she answered after. “Work keeps my head on other things.”

“How’s Ben doing?”

“Like you care,” Dylan teased.

Michael’s hands went up in defense and he stepped somewhat closer to her. “Hey, I don’t like the guy, but it sucks what happened to him.”

Dylan could see that he meant what he said.  “Yes, it does suck,” she agreed with her head down.

She wondered if this conversation and the hug from before was a betrayal. She had stopped it the minute she understood what the embrace meant to Michael. It would always mean more for him.

“Speak of the devil,” Michael said, almost cringing as he pointed to the door.

The train of Mathews boys, followed by Ben, stumbled in. To no surprise, they were drunk and followed by a group of unfamiliar girls. Ben, with his arm around a blonde, stared hard as he walked over to the bar where Dylan was sitting. He looked suspicious. His glossy eyes narrowed in on Michael, who was standing way too close to Dylan in that moment.

“What’s this?” Dylan asked, eyeing her new enemy.

“Grab us a beer?” he slurred. “
Please
.”

Michael quickly set two bottles in front of him. “These are on me,” he said sternly. He patted Dylan’s back gently, attempting to calm her anger at Ben and his new friend.

Ben’s eyes squinted and his mouth slightly smirked. “Well thanks, Oilie!” he said with such sarcasm in his tone, anyone was sure to pick up on it.

Charlie managed to get Michael’s attention from the other end of the bar, leaving Dylan alone with Ben and his blonde. It was an unfortunate position, and she desperately wanted out of it.

“Weed,” Ben began drunkenly, “this is Angela.”

“Veronica,” the blonde corrected with her hand out. “I’m Veronica.”

Ben didn’t seem to care about his mistake. “Whatever,” he said with a callous chuckle.

Dylan, disregarding the girl’s hand in front of her, shook her head and stared at Ben. “What are you doing?”

“I’m enjoying Angela’s company,” Ben replied.

“I said my name was Veronica,” the girl whined.

“Yes, yes. And I said
whatever
,” he replied with his hands on her cheeks. He moved closer to Veronica’s face and, to add a final blow to Dylan, he rubbed his nose to hers.

Dylan hopped down from the bar and headed over to Michael and her brothers. She pushed past Ben with his idiot blonde and tried desperately to hold in her inevitable tears.

Dylan stepped into the circle of intoxicated men and Michael. “I’m going home,” she yelled over the drunken banter.

Michael stepped out of the absentminded crowd and moved closer to her. He placed his hand on her back, and whispered into her ear, “Are you going to be okay?”

Before Dylan could move from his hand, or even answer, Ben’s arm was reaching over her and his fist was crashing its way into Michael’s jaw. The fight ended quickly, with Ben’s arms locked in Charlie and Jonah’s grips. They pulled him back as he tried to break free of their grasps.

“Get him out of here!” Michael hollered and pointed to the door. He didn’t hit him back and Dylan seriously wondered why. If they had been anywhere else, she was sure it would have been a full-on brawl by now.

Hugh shook his head in disbelief. “Ben, what the hell?”

“He’s upset about his mother,”
Brandon said. “I’m sorry, Michael.”

“It’s fine,” Michael said with a towel full of ice pressed to his face, which a thoughtful waitress had given him. “He needs to go, though.”