The Promise (The 'Burg #5)(80)

And being me, I commenced in doing that.

“Ben, I’m not sure what we just did was smart.”

His expression turned guarded and he asked, “Why?”

“Well, I’m pretty certain you didn’t miss this, considering the drama I perpetrated in your bathroom five months ago with you in attendance, but I’m kind of f**ked up.”

“No, babe, I didn’t miss it,” he replied immediately but did it softly. “But you missed something. Something really f**kin’ important.”

I was f**ked up so I had a strong idea that I missed a lot of things that were really f**king important.

At that moment, however, I needed to know which one he was referring to.

“What’d I miss?” I asked.

“The part about how I don’t want easy.”

My stomach clutched, my limbs clenched around him, and I stared up into his eyes.

“You walked away from me, shut me out and walked out of my house, and that was not cool,” he said quietly. “But I’m sensin’ you needed to do that, and my sense is right because you did it, knowin’ you’d f**k me and knowin’ you’d f**k you doin’ it.”

I pressed my lips together, partly because there was no response to that, but mostly because he told me I’d f**ked him, not in the good way, and I hated that I’d hurt him.

But he was right. I did it knowing I was doing it. To him and to me.

“And, Frankie,” he went on, “you did that and you did other shit since, but you do not want to be my friend. You have not been phonin’ me and makin’ me cookies because you want me in your life like that. You’ve been phonin’ me and making me cookies because you want me in your life like this.”

He emphasized his last words by, again, pressing his h*ps into mine, as well as momentarily giving me more of his body weight.

“I do. I told you that,” I reminded him. “I also told you I’m not right for you.”

“Babe, how about you let me decide what’s right for me,” Benny stated.

At that, I blinked again.

Ben kept talking.

“Seein’ as you’re f**ked up, I suppose you can take what just happened between us, what you just gave me, what you just threw at me, literally, and twist it or deny it or bury it so that you can walk away from it, even though it was unbelievably f**kin’ hot and proves not only that we both want this, we’re really f**kin’ good at it.”

He could say that again.

“I’m just gonna tell you now,” he continued. “I let you have that play five months ago because I was hopin’ you’d get your head straight and come back to me. I’m takin’ this” —he again gave me more of his weight before he took it away— “as you comin’ back to me. Now, what you gotta get is that I will not allow you to walk away from me again.”

My breath started to come faster as I lay under him and stared up into his eyes.

Ben kept going.

“I’ll make that clear. When I say I won’t allow that to happen, I’m not talkin’ about me not lettin’ go again. Right now, Francesca, you gotta decide. Are we gonna work this out and see where this can go? Or is this a f**ked-up play you instigated with zero control and you have every intention of carryin’ on with that, jackin’ me around, you’re cognizant of doin’ that or not, but you got no intention of puttin’ in the work to sort yourself out, sort us out, and give us a shot?”

Pure Benny, not beating around the bush or wasting any time.

My chest was working hard at allowing me to breathe as my heart beat fast in my chest. Both of these, coupled with the fear coursing through my system, didn’t allow me to reply.

When I didn’t, Benny’s hand found mine. He laced our fingers and pulled our hands up to press them against the side of his chest, saying softly, “Baby, simple yes or no. With what we just shared, you meant to share it with me or not, did you come back to me?”

“Yes.”

It was one word, one syllable, it sounded strangled and just as terrified as I felt.

Terrified for me and terrified of what I might eventually do to Benny.

That one word was selfish. It wasn’t right.

But it was true.

At my word, clearly not knowing all my thoughts, Ben closed his eyes as relief swept through his features, then he dropped his forehead to mine.

I closed mine too.

God, I hoped I hadn’t just f**ked up huge.

I opened my eyes when he lifted a breath away and, again, looked at me.

“How long you in Chicago?”

“I have more meetings tomorrow with docs, introducing them to me, as well as a new member of my team who’s three years older than me—a guy who has been in the pharmaceutical business for ten years when I’ve been in it for five months. So tomorrow, I’ll also be furthering my endeavors to convince him I know what I’m doing and he has to respect that ’cause I’m his boss. I leave the day after.”

“The day after is a Friday.”

“Yeah.”

“So you don’t leave on Friday. You leave on Sunday. Tomorrow mornin’, you pack your shit, and when I go home, I’ll take it with me. You’re done with your meetings and convincing this ass**le he’s gotta respect you, you come to me.”