On an Edge of Glass (19 page)

I c
lear my throat melodramatically.  “I think I know what I’m doing.  It’s not like I haven’t done this before.”

“If that’s how you want to play, then fine
with me,” Ben says glibly as he passes over a velvety sack full of Scrabble tiles.  “But, don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

And twenty minutes later
, when he’s kicking my butt all over the Scrabble board and giving me a look that’s too smug for words, I want to pinch myself for not listening.

“You’re
enjoying this a little too much,” I say as he lays down another thirty-plus point word.  “How in the world are you so good at Scrabble?”

“My family takes board games pretty seriously.  One time
, my mom and my uncle didn’t speak for two months over what we now refer to as, ‘the great Monopoly disaster of 2010.’” 

I laugh.

His smile widens.  “I’m not even joking.  It was pretty vicious.  There were tears and maybe even some blood drawn.  And, I won’t even get into the wars that have been fought and lost in my family over Chutes and Ladders…”

“You are so full of shit,
” I say, nudging him with my right elbow. 

“Me?  I think you’ve got the wrong guy.” 
He lifts his head.  The smile that crawls over his face is knowing and too superior for my liking. 

“Pfffhhh
…”

“I did warn you
Ellie,” he insists, winking at me.  “You could surrender the game and this would all be over a lot faster.

I frown, shuffling my tiles in an attempt to make my brain spit out a word from the jumble of vowels in front of me.  “
Yeah, just so you know,
pompous
doesn’t really suit you, Benjamin Hamilton.”

Ben tips his head back and laughs loudly.  “Well, just so
you
know, stubbornness is a teeny bit adorable on you, Elizabeth Glass.”

I
want to keep a straight face but I can’t.  Letting my hair fall forward over my shoulders, I place the tiles down on the board earning a measly six points. 

“Oh yeah?”
I ask.

Ben’s eyebrows pull apart.  H
is dark irises lock onto mine, and suddenly things don’t seem playful anymore. 

He lifts one hand and touches the
side of my face.  “Yeah.”  His splayed fingers push back through my hair.  “In fact, adorable isn’t even a good enough word to describe you, Ellie.”

Pleasure flushes my
cheeks. 

Ben
leans in to me, so that the tip of his nose brushes the line of my jaw.  I hold my breath. 

“And when you blush like t
hat, it drives me completely crazy,” he says quietly.  He slips his other hand to my hip.

I inhal
e and push Ben onto his back.  Scrabble game be damned! 

Swinging my legs around, I cl
imb over top of him.  With my thighs straddling his waist, I begin the process of slowly unbuttoning his shirt.  Ben’s eyes smolder as he follows the progress of my fingers. 

I graze my nails
under the collar of his shirt and watch, entranced, as his skin breaks into chills.  He closes his eyes, and lifts his lips to mine.  Ungluing me, Ben slides his tongue against the roof of my mouth.  His warm breath seeps inside of me and those strong musician fingers dig into my waist, urging me on.  I press down against the hard denim of his jeans.     

Ben
lets his head drop back against the mattress.  “Oh God.  Ellie, either you’re trying to kill me, or this is a ploy so that I don’t finish beating your sorry ass at Scrabble.”

I lean in
, letting my moist breath mingle in his hair.  “You figured me out.  I’m an evil mastermind who is currently plotting to usurp your Scrabble throne with my very inappropriate tongue.”

Ben’s eyes go back in his head.  He
groans and squeezes me tighter.

I giggle and kiss hi
s earlobe.  “Do you surrender?”

Cradling my back
, Ben flips me so that I’m beneath him.  He licks my lips and drags a finger down the center of my body, pulling the fabric of my sweater as he goes.  “Hell yes.”

His de
licious weight has me pinned in place.  When he parts my leg with a knee, I fall away.  The movement of our mouths becomes harder, more frantic.  He works on my clothes.  Then there is a thumb, inching toward my naked breast, moving in tantalizing circles over my bare skin.  With a palm cupped on me, Ben shifts and murmurs something low in my ear.  I don’t understand what he says.  I am lost—on a wave, with his fingers like the warm wind on my skin.

Thong or Bikini Briefs?

“Impulsive Indigo for you,” he shoves the bottle into my hand. “And Perfectly Pink for you,” Mark twists on the couch toward Ainsley.

             
“Are you sure?” I ask, turning the bottle over as I inspect the bluish purple nail polish.  “I usually stick with reds or pinks.”

             
Mark lifts one eyebrow.  “Well, you’ve seemed so daring and open to new things lately.  I didn’t think you would mind something as trivial as trying a new shade of nail polish.”

             
I roll my eyes at the double meaning that Mark’s throwing in my face.  When I’m sure that Ainsley’s not looking, I stick my tongue out at him.  He throws his head back and laughs openly. 

             
Payton steps through the door.  She thrusts her bag over the back of the couch in one movement.  Yanking her earbuds from her ears, she slides to the floor at my feet.  Then she reaches for a bottle of nail polish from the plastic bin resting in Mark’s lap. 

“Are we doing nails?”  She asks.

             
“No, we’re solving the world’s energy crisis.”  Mark slaps her hand away and searches through the bottles.  He hands her a color that falls somewhere on the spectrum between pukey green and mud brown.  “This one.”

             
Payton contorts her face in a grimace.  “That nail polish looks like liquid poo.”

             
Mark’s smile is deceptively sweet.  “I think liquid poo is more commonly called diarrhea.  And, if you want my opinion, I think the color perfectly matches your demeanor.”

             
Ainlsey and I laugh, but Payton is not amused.  She abruptly moves her bag and launches herself onto the couch, shoving her hips in between Mark and me unceremoniously.  She grabs the bin from him. 

“
I don’t even know why that color exists in nail polish form, or why we own it. 
This
,” she says, taking out a silvery glitter polish, “is more like it.”

             
Mark sighs and scoots his butt over to make the seating arrangement more manageable.  He pulls on Ainsley’s hand and motions for her to splay her fingers so that he can reach each nail easily. 

“
Who thinks that we should order pizza tonight?”  He asks.

             
“Mark Temple, you don’t live here,” Payton asserts, finding a long black nail file among the bottles of polish. “So you don’t get a say in what we eat for dinner.”

             
I give her one of my looks.  The one that would make Darth Vadar shake in his helmet. “No Payton, but if you want him to give you a perfect manicure, you’ll shut up and order the man some pizza.”

             
“Good point,” Payton laughs.  She pulls out her phone and starts to look up the number for our favorite pizza delivery place.  Her dark bangs fall into her eyes.  “What does everyone want?”

             
“Cheese!”  Ainsley chirps.

             
“Sundried tomatoes and feta for me.”  That’s Mark. 

             
And a new voice: “Pepperoni and mushroom.”

             
I look up.  Ben is smiling at me from the door.  He’s got his arms crossed over his chest and he’s leaning sideways against the frame. 

I blush furiously
.  He remembered what kind of pizza I like. 

             
“That is…” Ben says slowly, dropping his cello case by the hall table and taking a step into the living room.  “If it’s okay with you guys if I crash this cozy little beauty fest, or whatever you call what’s happening here.”

             
Mark lifts the pink-tipped nail polish brush in the air.  “You want to go next?”

             
“Well, I wouldn’t want to take anyone’s spot, so I think I’ll wait until next time,” Ben says nonchalantly as he falls into the armchair.   

I notice that his hair is back in a messy ponytail and he’s got his sleeves rolled up.  He looks exhausted from three
orchestra practices this week and staying up late the last two nights to work on a new song that he’s writing for Accidental Sweet Tea.  The fact that it’s a love song has not gone unnoticed by me.   

             
After ordering the pizza, Payton slips her phone back into her bag and looks at Ben with interest.  “Be-en,” she coos, playfully twirling her hair over her index finger.

             
He shifts his eyes to her expectantly.  He’s got his elbow bent on the chair and his chin is resting in his hand.

             
“Did Nick happen to mention me recently?” Payton asks.

             
“Ooooh!  Who’s Nick?”  Ainsley leans forward so that she can see Payton over Mark’s shoulder.

             
I turn my head.  “Yeah, who’s Nick?”

             
Payton clears her throat.  “Ellie, you remember him.  He’s the hot drummer for Accidental Sweet Tea.”

The
drummer
?  A memory tugs.  Right.  He’s the redhead who stopped the argument between Ben and Drew the night of the Halloween party.  The one who was dressed like The Incredible Hulk with green paint smeared on one side of his face. 

“Huh.  The redhead?”

              “I prefer the term ‘ginger,’” she says with an elusive shrug.  “But yeah, we bumped into each other on campus the other day and, I don’t know… I thought he would call me by now, but he hasn’t.”  She glances at her cell phone and frowns.

             
We all turn to Ben, who looks like he’s just been asked name every single element on the periodic table. 

“Ahhh,” h
e squirms, wrinkling his nose and looking insanely cute.  “We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff.  It’s sort of a rule of mine after the whole…” his eyes touch me and jerk away quickly. “Well, it’s a rule not to get involved in my friend’s love lives.  It gets way too messy.”

             
Payton lets her head fall against the back of the couch.  “God, Ben!  I hope that you realize that you are being no fun at all.  I thought if I wasn’t allowed to sleep with my male roommate, I could at least count on him for a hookup with a hot guy friend every now and then.”

             
He laughs and it sounds so good.  The phrase, “music to my ears” comes to mind, but then I think that I’m pathetic for even entertaining the thought.  Pathetic or whipped, and I don’t really want to be either. 

“I don’t know if this helps, but
if any of you guys are interested, we’re playing at The Hill a week from Friday.”  He drops his arm and sits up.  “It’s after exams, so unless you’re heading home for winter break early, you should come out.  I’m sure I can get you in the door for free.  Ellie already said that she would come.”

             
I meet his gaze.  Ben told me about the show yesterday.  He wants me to see him play
and
he wants to tell Payton and Ainsley about us. 
Us. 
He used that word specifically and I got stuck on it and this weird feeling started rolling around my stomach.  It’s the same feeling that’s creeping back right now.

             
Payton’s smile overtakes her face.  “
And
, you have officially redeemed yourself, Ben.  Getting to see Nick play will be worth the wait.”  She closes her eyes.  “Ahhhh!  Drummers are so insanely hot.”

             
Ainsley laughs.  Her first coat is done so it’s my turn.  Obediently, I spread my fingers for Mark.

             
“Speaking of love lives,” Ainsley starts.  Her round, blue eyes find mine as she blows delicately on her nails.  “Ellie, now that you don’t have the LSAT as an excuse, we need to vamp up your completely non-existent one.”

             
I groan.  This conversation could not have taken a worse turn.  “Seriously you guys, I do not need your input on this. 
Really
.”

             
Mark clucks and Payton sits up, brushing aside her bangs.  “Oh, but I think you do,” she says hotly.  “The last guy you dated was total deadweight and he lasted all of five minutes.  He probably never even got a chance to figure out if you wear a thong or bikini briefs.”