The Promise (The 'Burg #5)(37)

“Thanks, Benny,” she said softly, pressing closer to him.

He slid his fingers from her hip up her side, over her shoulder blade, and into her hair. Once there, he used his thumb to curl a lock around his finger again and again.

He felt her sigh and he knew it was half a sigh.

He also knew she was giving him more, but she was still holding back.

For now, he’d give her that play.

She had until Monday.

Chapter Five

Drawer in the Bathroom

I stood at the door of my own apartment while Benny inserted the key.

At least he shoved open the door and stepped back for me to go in first.

“Thanks,” I snapped.

He grinned.

I rolled my eyes, walked into my apartment, and instantly felt weird.

I’d moved into that place six months after Vinnie died, leaving the semi-deluxe condo Vinnie put us in when he started to make decent money with Sal. Sal told me he’d cover the rent on my old place, but I said no because I thought that was weird. Anyway, it would pinch, but I could afford it on my own.

The real reason I left the condo was because I couldn’t be in our place anymore. It had memories of Vinnie everywhere. Sometimes I could swear even the smell of him would hit me, making it all come back, pain so immense I couldn’t breathe.

I was so desperate to get out I’d signed the lease on the first place I looked at. It wasn’t a great place, but it was in a good neighborhood. You walked into the dining area from the corridor. Kitchen off to the side. Living room off the dining area. A balcony off that with views of the city. Down a hall, two bedrooms, both with balconies to that view. Guest bath in the hall. The master had a bath and walk-in closet. A big utility closet for a washer and dryer, and storage in the hall.

It was everything I needed.

It just had no personality.

Well, it did when I’d done it up, made it a place I liked coming home to, a place I liked to spend time in, mostly because I spent a lot of time in it.

But bare bones, it had no personality.

Now, it was almost back to that, seeing as it was weird walking into my place because I hadn’t been there in weeks. It was also weird walking into it because a lot of it had been boxed up in preparation to move. Nothing on the walls. Ready to be void.

Shaking off the weird, I looked to Benny to see he was throwing the door closed behind him, but his eyes were on the boxes stacked three deep, resting against the dining area wall.

He didn’t look happy.

“I’ll just be a minute,” I told him, and his gaze cut to me.

“Grab what you wanna wear to dinner tomorrow while you’re at it,” he ordered.

I gave him a look to tell him how I felt about him ordering me around and then I stomped down the hall to show him how I felt about him ordering me around. I did the last without looking at him, because when I gave him the look, he stopped looking ticked and started grinning.

Once in my walk-in closet, I slapped hangers across the rail, looking for a dress that wouldn’t make Benny hard (knowing this was a fruitless endeavor; I was me, I was about impact, and apparently, he really liked me and my impact) and wondering why I agreed to have dinner with him.

I wondered, but I knew.

He was being persuasive in the way only Ben could be, which was bound to be successful.

In other words, he was fighting his own good fight and he was a lot better at it.

A date with Benny.

I couldn’t say no.

I wanted to. I even fought it. But I caved.

I also wanted to make my boundaries clear by not lying in bed with him and watching TV.

But did I manage that?

No.

Instead, I not only lay in bed with him, I lay cuddled in bed with him, Benny playing with my hair, which felt so nice, I couldn’t describe how nice it felt. I even eventually fell asleep against him watching TV, Benny playing with my hair.

The good fight was not working, being quiet, giving in to get my way in the end. Because giving in meant being around Benny who was showing he was a lot more than gentle, could take direction, do the dishes, and make a great pizza.

He was protective. He was honest. He had control. I mean, seriously, what went down with Nat? It was a miracle he kept hold of his shit through that. I’d been in my own tizzy, but I’d watched him and I knew what it took for him to do that. It took a lot. He still kept his shit.

And my usual fight of being loud and full of attitude didn’t work either because Ben thought it was “cute.”

I was screwed.

And I knew just how screwed I was when I found the exact dress I was going to wear to dinner with Benny tomorrow night. And then I found and grabbed the shoes.

A dangerous dress.

Straight-up treacherous shoes.

I still grabbed them, carefully folded the dress, and put it and the shoebox in my wheelie overnight bag.

I also grabbed other shit that did not say, “Back off, Benny Bianchi,” but said, “Do you mind if I have a drawer in your bathroom?”

God, I was on such rocky ground, it was like experiencing an earthquake.

I just couldn’t find it in me to fight my way to solid ground.

Making matters worse, I grabbed a dress for that day that was out of necessity, since I really didn’t have anything that wasn’t about flash and impact and I had no choice.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t one of my choices that had more impact than most. It was just more subtle.