Ten Tiny Breaths (Ten Tiny Breaths #1)(62)

“Give us a minute, Livie,” I manage to say with complete calm. Inside, a torrent of sensations threaten to sweep me off my feet. The door beside me sways and I fight harder to pull air into my lungs as my heart speeds up. Trent is back. It’s as much a punch to the gut as a swell inside my chest. Like a bad addiction, I know it’s wrong, but, damn, does it leave me satisfied.

Livie turns and stomps toward her room but not before throwing one last icy glare Trent’s way. “Hemorrhoids! Remember that, Kacey!”

Her sudden outburst and the seriousness of her attitude ruptures my panic attack like a needle to a balloon, and I find myself chuckling. God, I love that girl.

Maybe it’s my laughter that eases Trent, gives him the crazy nerve to touch me, I don’t know. “Let me explain,” he begins, his hands moving to mine.

I recoil, my mercurial mood snapping back to anger. “Don’t you dare touch me,” I hiss.

He holds his hands out in front of him—palms outward—in a sign of peace. “Fair enough, Kace. But give me a chance to explain.”

My arms cross my chest and I hug myself tightly to keep from collapsing. Or reaching out to him, to his warmth. “Go ahead. Explain,” I growl, fighting the overwhelming urge to throw myself at his body, to not listen to any excuse because none of it really matters. It’s the past, and the way he makes me feel when I’m near him is all that matters right now. But I can’t do that. I can’t weaken.

His lips part to speak and my knees go wobbly. Oh God. If I have to stand in his presence for one more second, I am going to lose all my fight.

Ben appears around the corner like a knight in shining armor.

“Time’s up,” I declare a little too loud. I shoulder pass past Trent, slamming the apartment door shut. “Hey, Ben!” It’s obvious to anyone who knows me that this is all an act. I’m never this cheery. I’m never cheery, period.

Ben looks at me, and then at Trent, and I see the wheels turning. He knows he just interrupted something. He’s a smart meathead. “Do you want me to—” He gestures to the exit, like he’s suggesting he could leave.

“Nope!” I hook my arm through his and tug him forward, holding my head high and Ben’s arm close, letting my anger fuel my steps forward.

Inside, I feel the walls caving in.

***

“You’ve hardly touched your pasta,” Ben notes. We’re at an Italian restaurant five minutes away from Penny’s.

“I’ve touched it plenty,” I grumble as I stab it with my fork. “I’ve touched it so much that your pasta is jealous. I hear talk of a spaghetti smack down.”

“You’ve hardly eaten your pasta,” Ben rephrases but smirks.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Is it because of that guy?”

We’ve been sitting at this restaurant for forty-five minutes and this is the first question Ben asks me. The rest of the time, I listen to him drone on about the shot knee that kept him from a football scholarship, and about how he wants to be a criminal lawyer in Vegas because that’s where all the rich crooks live. I don’t know if he doesn’t ask me anything because he’s a narcissist or he realizes I don’t like answering questions. Either way, it has suited me just fine.

I sigh as I pull a twenty out of my purse and toss it on the table. “We should probably get going soon.”

He frowns as he hands the money back. “My treat.”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“Whoa! Who said anything about sex? I’m just here for the meal and the pleasant company.” He acts all offended, but the glimmer in his irises tells me he’s teasing. An unattractive snort escapes me.

“Okay, fine. Mediocre company.” He shoves a piece of bread into his mouth and adds with a smile, “Hot piece of ass.”

“And that’s the Ben we know and love,” I confirm with an exaggerated nod and a sugar packet to his forehead.

“Seriously though,” Ben starts as he scrapes the last mound of pasta from his plate. I wait patiently for him to finish chewing and swallow. “Why’d you agree to come out with me? You’re obviously not over that other guy and, even if you were, I’m no idiot. I don’t know what that day in the gym was …”

Dammit. I am that obvious. I hope I’m not to Trent though. I don’t want him to see through me so easily. He’ll swoop in and melt my defenses with those smoldering baby blues. I shrug. “You don’t want me, Ben. I’m seven layers of f**ked up with a side of batshit crazy.”

He grins but I catch the sadness in his eyes as he throws down a few bills to cover the meal. “I already knew that.”

“Well then why’d you ask me out? Especially after what I did to you that day in the gym?”

He shrugs. “Waiting for your next moment of full on crazy? I’ll be faster next time. In and out.”

I burst out laughing, Ben’s shameless honesty a welcome relief.

“I don’t know, Kace. I’m around a lot of sluts and airheads. You’re different. You’re smart and funny. And you can shrink a guy’s confidence like no other girl I’ve met.”

“I didn’t think anyone could shrink that swelled head of yours, Ben.”

He grins arrogantly. “Depends which head you’re talking about.”