Under the Orange Moon Page 8

  “Last night was fun,” Michael finally spoke those inevitable words. “We’ll have to do that again.”

  Dylan froze mid-wipe with her bar towel stuck under her palm. She sighed and closed her eyes when she felt the feeling of guilt transitioning into upchuck. She fidgeted and took in a deep breath.

  “You do want to, right?” Michael asked softly.

  Dylan turned and leaned against the bar. “Michael—”

  “Ben?” he asked with a defeated look on his face. “I should have known.”

  “It’s not just Ben.” She paused wondering how much could be said without him going straight to Charlie or, God forbid, Brandon. “It’s a lot of things, Michael.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well,” she stammered. “You’re my boss, for one.”

  “I don’t have to be. We both know you don’t work here for the money.” Michael leaned against the bar like they were going to argue about this. “You make enough at the school.”

  Dylan laughed. “I don’t work here for fun, Michael.”

  “Okay but, you have to know, I wouldn’t fire you if it didn’t work out.”

  Dylan sighed and looked down to the floor. “Please don’t,” she whispered.

  “He’ll hurt you, Dylan,” he warned.

  Frustrated, Dylan snapped her head up to glare at him. “I didn’t say this was about Ben. You’re the one that assumes it is.”

  “Well, you haven’t corrected me.”

  “Do I need to?”

  “I wish you would.”

  “I can’t,” she answered shamefully.

  Dylan looked up and met Michael’s sad eyes. He looked as if she kicked him in the gut and ripped his heart out of his chest. It was the first heart that Dylan had ever broken and, suddenly, she was very aware of the horrible responsibility that went along with the guilt.

  They seemed to have a staring contest for minutes. Dylan half wondered if she would give it a try just so he wouldn’t look at her like that anymore. It truly was killing her to have to know that she was the reason his eyes looked that way.

  The door to Oilies opened, sending relief to Dylan. As Michael escaped to the kitchen, she hoped that the bar would be abnormally slammed with customers just so she could think of something else besides her ridiculous love life. Unfortunately, the Monday crowd was good, but not that good.

  “What do you say, little sister,” Hugh called from the end of the bar. “Grab me a beer.”

  “Nice shiner.” Dylan flipped the cap off the top for dramatics and set the beer down in front of her brother.

  Hugh grinned. “I hit him back.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Nope,” he warned with a smile. “They’re all coming up.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Yep.” Hugh leaned forward, and whispered, “Did Olerson make his move last night?”

  “Gross, Hugh!” She despised even the thought of this conversation taking place. “Don’t ask me that!”

  “I just meant if he kissed you?” Hugh corrected with a cringe. “Now you’re making me feel weird.”

  “I don’t like him like that. I wish you all would stop forcing it on me,” Dylan barked.

  “Are you a lesbian?” Hugh asked. “I mean, are you?”

  Dylan stared at him for a few seconds. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, contemplating whether to bash his bottle over his head, or just chuck the jar of bar cherries at his face. She was always a tomboy, but what choice did she have with all the brothers that surrounded her?

  “I really don’t even think I’m going to act like I heard that.” She decided she would act more dignified.

  “Well.” Hugh laughed, before taking a swig of his beer.

  The rest of her brothers and Ben walked through the door loudly. It wasn’t as if they wanted everyone to notice them, they were just loud by nature and made no attempt to be otherwise.

  One by one, they all took a stool in front of her. Dylan, knowing what they all wanted without needing to ask, slid their beers to them in the order that they sat.

  “She’s not a lesbian, guys. Don’t ask her if she is,” Hugh joked. “I did and now I’m a dead man.”

  “What?” Jonah asked, confused. “Why would you ask her that?”

  “Because she turned down Olerson,” Hugh answered quietly. “All the girls like Olerson. He’s Oilie.”

  Ben sat up and met Dylan’s eyes. Dylan stared back and waited for Ben to smile, make a sarcastic comment, wink…something! He did nothing but stare.

  “She doesn’t have to like anyone,” Charlie snapped. “Maybe she’s already dating someone we don’t know about.”

  “Yeah, maybe she’s dating someone from her class,” Jonah offered.

  “An artist?” Brandon nearly choked. “No way.”

  “I’m not dating—ugh. Stop it!” Dylan wasn’t sure if she was more mortified about her brothers talking about this like she wasn’t there, or the fact that Ben was there to hear it all.

  Michael stepped out from the kitchen. “Mathews,” he announced them all in one word, besides Ben, whom he would never acknowledge. “How’s it going?”

  Dylan could see the lingering pain of rejection in his eyes. She knew that her brothers would see something was off. They were all so filled with testosterone, though, there was no way they would peg it for a broken heart.

  Dylan stood just in front of Ben. She smiled her usual smirk and secretly thought about just naming that look in particular after him, the only person she ever gave it to. She reached over and pulled the empty bottle from his grasp. Ben’s remarkably soft eyes connected with hers. He let go of the bottle, allowing her to slide it away from his battered up fingers. His hand looked as if it had gone to war on its very own.

  “Would you like another one?” she asked, intrigued by his silence.

  Ben nodded and looked down the row of oblivious Mathews boys that chatted away with Michael. He looked back at Dylan and smiled. It was a peaceful expression, one she’d never seen him wear.

  Dylan set his full beer in front of him and smiled back.

  Ben couldn’t believe how beautiful Dylan looked as she stared at him from behind the bar. Her hair was pulled back, but in a messy way. The little curls at the ends had fallen out and now hung down in front of her face. Her jeans were ripped stylishly and her shirt was tight and white with a wet spot on the bottom. She had to know how hard he struggled when he even looked at her.

  “Will we see you tomorrow night?” Dylan asked.

  “Christmas Eve?” Ben shook his head. “I doubt it. I promised Ruth I’d stay with her.”

  Dylan looked disappointed. Ben could tell it wasn’t something she tried to do, but he could see her deep, unintentional sigh nonetheless.

  Ben chuckled. “You know I’ll be over for the lights. I just have to wait for Ruth to pass out from her pills.”

  The light show was a tradition that the Mathews had been putting on for years. It all started with Carl and his love for Christmas lights, but seemed to transition into a much anticipated event that included fireworks for the entire neighborhood to enjoy. When he passed away, Brandon took over the job, even naming it “The Annual Christmas Carl Show” in honor of his dad.

  “You haven’t been to one since our senior year in high school.”

  “Anything new with it?”

  Dylan laughed. “No.”

  “I still miss it,” he said with a frown. “It was always a good time.”

  Dylan smiled. “The last year you were here was the best.”

  Ben remembered but didn’t comment on it. He drank from his bottle and nodded, hiding his reminiscent grin.

  It was his favorite year, too. He remembered all to well when he and Dylan lay side by side and looked up into the sky as the fireworks shot above them in red, green, and gold colors. They were hidden from the rest of the world, even Jonah. Ben wasn’t sure what made him crawl over and lay flat on his back beside her. It was probably one of his
rare moments of weakness to be near her.

  He remembered turning his head and secretly admiring her face as it lit up from the Christmas colors in the sky above them. She was smiling a really giddy expression, probably feeling her dad’s memory all around, as they all did on that night. Ben could even recall what she was wearing: her baggy jeans and a small gray, Michigan State T-shirt, her father’s Alma Mater.

  As they watched the sky, Dylan took his hand and held onto it tightly. Ben remembered being so taken aback, but refusing to let go. They held hands until the show ended and Jonah called out Ben’s name. He sat up and ran from her, only to end up making out with Chrissy Turner an hour later, a way to get Dylan out of his mind, of course.

  Caught up in his reminiscing, Ben looked up at her and spoke quietly, unable to control what he was saying. “Do you have to close tonight?”

  Dylan shook her head. “Not if I don’t want to.”

  “Come over.” He felt brave and defiant of himself as he put himself out there and waited for her to change her mind, rejecting and destroying him with one single “no.”

  Dylan stared at him, her eyes wide. “To your house?”

  Ben continued, despite his conscience screaming for him to stop. He looked down at his beer and pushed it away. “If you come, I won’t drink.”

  Dylan glanced down at her brothers to make sure they couldn’t hear. She looked back at Ben and smiled, intrigued. “Why do you want me to come over?”

  Ben grinned. “I want to be alone without any distractions.” He motioned towards the Mathews boys with his head. “Why else?”

  “Please don’t freak out when I get there, Ben.”

  Ben shook his head. “I promise.”

  “No games, Ben. I mean it.”

  He chewed on his lip and waited for her to laugh. When she didn’t, he realized she truly was frightened he would run. “How can I convince you?” he asked sweetly.

  “You can’t,” she admitted. “Just know that if you run tonight, or flake out in the least bit, I’ll never speak to you again.”

  “You could never keep that promise,” he joked. When he realized she still wasn’t laughing along with him, he tried to sound a bit more convincing. “I won’t flake out,” he promised again.

  “And your mom?”

  “Pill popping on a regular basis now; I’m not even sure that she knows I’m in town.”

  Dylan laughed and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny.”

  Ben’s heart ached for her laugh. Even as a child, he loved her laugh. He remembered it being a soothing music to his ears that warmed him up with whatever girlish pitch she giggled his way. “Then you’ll come?”

  Dylan nodded her head slowly. “Okay.”

  Ben threw a ten dollar bill onto the bar. “I’m outta here,” he announced. He knew this would cause questions, but he was ready with answers.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Charlie asked, stunned. “We just got here.”

  “I have to go see my mom. I promised her I would come home early.”

  “Since when do you care about that?” Jonah asked, appearing quite taken aback as well. “You always promise her that.”

  Ben shook his head and laughed. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He turned and walked out the door.

  Ben’s hands shook as he cleaned up his room. He pulled out the movies he thought Dylan would like to watch. He even made his bed, but then messed it up again, thinking that would be too obvious.

  He changed his mind over and over again, hating himself one minute and then remembering that it was her that even gave him the idea to begin with. When he checked to make sure the condoms were still in his bedside drawer, he loathed himself that much more.

  Was this what she meant? he wondered.

  He thought about Dylan and the way she looked in the morning. He smiled when he realized he could sleep with her comfortably now. He could wake up with her in his arms and not worry about his friends, her brothers, lurking outside the door. He could laugh with her all morning and even make her breakfast. Why hadn’t they done this before? His house would have been so much easier.

  Ben found that he was smiling like a child waiting for his presents on Christmas. He found it to be a fantastic coincidence that this happened to be the holiday season. Dylan must be his present, beautifully wrapped in whatever she chose to put on.

  Dylan’s heart slammed against her chest. She could have thrown up at least ten times as she got ready for Ben. She showered, shaved, and redid her hair that would have smelled like beer had she not.

  She thought of what to wear and decided against a dress. It was midnight. Yoga pants and a tank top were appropriate for this. She was sure Ben would be in pajama bottoms as well. She giggled when she thought of it as a sleepover.

  She drove to Ben’s, knowing her brothers would wonder where she was without her car. They would be furious if she strolled through the yards in the morning, knowing where she had been for sure.

  She pulled into Ben’s driveway and smiled when she saw that he left the garage door open, a sign to hide her car there.

  She climbed his stairs and felt odd that his house was always so foreign to her. It was indeed somewhere she had been as a child, but not nearly as much as one would suspect. She knew the familiar scent of his house and she knew where every room was. This was Ben’s mother’s home and he did not like to be here, even as a child.

  Dylan paused at his bedroom door. She tried to slow her racing heart before she walked in. She thought about what he was doing on the other side. Had he changed his mind? Oh please don’t do this to me, she silently told him. Be perfect.

  “Ben?” she asked, opening the door.

  He stood in the middle of his room, wearing black and gray pajama bottoms, like she suspected, and a pleasant smile on his face. He didn’t look scared, or sarcastic. His arrogant glow was surprisingly absent as well.

  “Hello,” he said, walking to take her bag from her hands.

  Dylan smiled. She felt the awkwardness disappear with his greeting. The fear of rejection floated away along with his wall that surrounded him regularly. This was the Ben only she knew existed and she was happy for his rare appearance.

  “How did you get out of work?” he asked, pulling her onto the bed to sit with him.

  Small talk was good, she thought.

  “I just said I couldn’t stay.” Dylan smiled. “Don’t worry, my brothers are still there.”

  “I don’t know your brothers tonight,” Ben teased.

  “Right.”

  “Do you want to watch a movie?” he asked.

  Dylan looked at Ben and smiled. She slowly shook her head back and forth. No answer had ever been more obvious.

  Ben nodded bashfully. “Right.”

  Dylan stared at him and silently willed him to move toward her. She needed his control tonight on the mere principal alone that she was clueless on how to begin.

  “Did Olerson give you any problems about leaving?”

  “No. I think he was actually happy to see me leave for once.” Dylan didn’t laugh this time. She felt so much guilt when she pictured Michael.

  “He did look a bit grim when I saw him.” Ben smiled. “You must have told him not to kiss you again?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Good. Did he ask why?”

  “He knew why,” Dylan answered. She searched for his reaction in his expression. She looked at his mouth and waited for his arrogant grin that didn’t come.

  “Tell me.” He smiled at her, his face shadowed over with nothing but contentment.

  Dylan decided against being bold, despite his luring face. “Why do you think?”

  Ben leaned forward slowly—painfully slow. He pulled her hand into his and held it as he pulled her closer to him. He kissed her cheek as he set his hand on her thigh. He moved his mouth to her ear, sending so many sensations shooting through her body it was hard to keep up with them all.

  He pulled back, and u
rged, “Tell me why, Dylan.”

  She paused; the feeling of his breath on her lips was more than she could stand. She wanted him to put his hands all over her and she was anxious now, knowing he wanted the same.

  She refused to close her eyes. “Because,” she began. She felt his tender hands sliding up her back, beneath her shirt, as she whispered, “I only want to kiss you.”

  Ben needed that invitation. He was overjoyed at even the thought that his lips would finally be on Dylan’s. He wasn’t sure which part he was more excited about. Out of all the times he’d contemplated this kiss, this moment, he couldn’t have imagined it being so perfect.

  He touched her soft, silky skin and almost shivered. He realized he had never allowed himself to truly enjoy the feeling of her before. He never felt completely free until now.

  Ben’s lips slowly moved from her neck to her mouth. He felt the warm, smoothness of her two lips and knew that everything he had always felt for her was finally crashing together. As his tongue glided over hers, he tasted pure joy, desperately needing to go on, but knowing he needed to savor every ounce of the moment.

  Dylan sighed sweetly against his mouth, sending a hint of her fresh breath into his lips, and placed her unsteady fingers on his cheeks.

  Ben’s hands moved along her back and around to her front. He slowly lifted her shirt up over her head and pulled her even closer against him. He searched her eyes and smiled when he realized that she was breathing in heavy gasps.

  “Shhh,” he said, as he leaned and whispered into her ear.

  “I’m so nervous, Ben,” Dylan admitted into his shoulder.

  Ben leaned back and brushed her cheek with his fingers. “Me too,” he said with a small laughter.

  “Really? You don’t seem nervous.”

  “I am,” he divulged with a small nod. “I don’t remember ever being this nervous in my life, actually.”

  “Good,” Dylan said with a sigh.

  Bravely, she removed his shirt and closed that final gap between their bare skins. Her fingers grazed over his back as she took him all in and began to find her control. It was almost too much for Ben to take as he kissed the soft curve of her shoulder and skimmed his hand over her breast.