Meant for Me

Chapter Twelve

Will

Can this trip get any more nauseating?

“Home sweet home,” Eric whispers, leaning in to nuzzle Ivy’s nose.

“I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed tonight,” Ivy responds, practically cooing in his ear.

I clear my throat before they can indulge in another one of their endless lip-lock sessions. They always seem to have to be touching each other—her palm on his chest, his fingers in her hair, her head on his shoulder, his hand on her waist. It’s so annoying. After watching them fondle the crap out of each other through four different time zones, I’ve about had it.

It was bad enough that they made me practically sit in the aisle while they made out on the plane during the flight. But now we’re into our third hour of being crammed together in the front of Eric’s truck. I can’t even raise my elbows because Ivy’s pressed so close against me. I would have gladly ridden in the cab with the luggage if wasn’t so freaking cold out.

“Oh great, a welcoming committee,” I grumble as we bounce over the glorified cow trail that leads to Eric’s rustic little dwelling.

“Wow, what’s everybody doing here?” Ivy ponders, striving to hide the disappointment in her voice. Ha! She thought their fuck fest would commence the minute they banished me to the woodshed. Think again, sweetheart.

“They probably just want to welcome you home. They’ve been so worried about you.” Eric sounds a little more pleased to see them than she is. Hmm, maybe things aren’t as rosy in paradise. “You know my mom. She can’t resist the opportunity to bring over a home-cooked meal.”

“Oh, so you think everybody’s here for dinner?” Ivy asks, jabbing me with her elbow as she squirms beside me.

“Ouch! Watch it, would ya?” I snarl, and she shoots me a look to shut up. She’s not a happy camper right now. Yeah, well, neither am I.

Eric drives up to the group standing on the porch. A lady with grey hair and glasses is waving enthusiastically while an old dude in suspenders is frantically trying to hold on to Eric’s dog, who is going berserk. There’s a slightly younger couple that can only be described as redneck fabulous watching our approach. The guy has his arm around the shoulders of her bright orange hunting vest while holding a beer bottle in his hand. It seems the party’s already started by the looks of it.

I’m about to close my eyes in despair when a smokin’ hot guy gets up from one of the rocking chairs on the porch. He leaves the buxom blonde he was sitting next to and struts toward the truck. His eyes immediately laser in on mine as I stare him down. He doesn’t look away—and neither do I—as he keeps getting closer and closer. He’s wearing a football jersey that accentuates the broad shoulders that taper down to a narrow waist. He blinks when he steps in front of Eric’s headlights, and I curse under my breath when I see the name of the high school football team emblazoned across his chest. Shit, he’s probably not even legal.

But instead of stopping and waiting for us to get out, he marches right over to my door, opening it without a second’s hesitation. I don’t often get flustered, but I do like a man who takes charge. He offers his hand to help me down, and any guy striving to keep his sexuality a secret would surely refuse. But I can’t resist.

His hand is larger than mine as my thumb grazes the soft hair on his knuckles. Instead of drawing away at my caress, he grips my hand tighter until we’re standing eye to eye. He’s slightly taller than I am, but not by much, and he smells so good—like a woodsy combination of musk and pine. My lips part involuntarily. To cover my indiscretion, I whistle sharply before reluctantly withdrawing my hand.

“Ivy, I’m surprised Eric would have another teenage guy within spitting distance of you after what happened with Ryan.” I don’t mean to insult him in such an offensive way, but I have to regain the upper hand. It’s such an inappropriate thing for me to say, and his eyes widen in shock as Ivy gasps behind me. Well played, Carter. You idiot.

“Don’t talk to Ben like that, Will. What the hell?” Ivy protests, smacking me in the shoulder when I don’t turn around. I glance over at Eric and luckily he didn’t hear what I said. He’s too busy hugging a woman who appears to be his mother.

“You know about Ryan?” Ben’s deep baritone greets my ears as he nudges me out of the way to help Ivy down. The contact is ever so brief but it shoots an electric current all through my body. Shit, is he coming on to me? Or is he just used to being physical with other guys as a member of the football team? It is a tackle sport, after all.

“Yeah, he does, but can we not talk about it right now?” Ivy pleads, smoothing down the front of her jeans. “I have enough on my mind without worrying about that.”

“But you promised you were going to think about it,” Ben insists, flicking a quick glance in my direction.

“Think about what?” I inquire, desirous to have him talk to me.

“Ben, a lot happened since you saw me last, okay? I can only handle one member of the Price family at a time and right now his stepsister is the one I have to deal with first,” Ivy says, yawning halfway through her reply. “In the meantime, why don’t you help Will bring his stuff around to the woodshed?”

“The woodshed? Man, that’s a come down from L.A. I thought you were supposed to be Mr. Hollywood?” Ben smirks when he sees that the majority of the suitcases in the back of the truck are mine. “What are you doing back here anyway?”

“He’s here to help me with the screenplay,” Ivy butts in, not giving me a chance to respond. “You boys behave yourselves, all right? I’m going over to say hello to Eric’s parents and Jack and his wife.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ben replies saucily, checking out her ass as she walks away. Maybe we don’t bat for the same team after all. I better find out.

“Who’s the chick on the porch?” I prod, enjoying how his jersey is riding up over his back as he reaches for the luggage. His jeans are practically spray-painted on, and they dip below his hips as he leans over the cab. Damn, I think he’s going commando as the top of his crack comes into view. If we were alone and I was certain of his intentions, I’d pull them all the way down until that glorious posterior was on full display.

“The flavor of the week,” Ben responds flippantly as he tucks two of my bags under his arm. “Why stick with one when you can sample them all?”

“I take it you don’t discriminate when it comes to screwing around.” I leave my response decidedly open-ended, allowing him to take this conversation in whatever direction he wants it to go.

We’ve moved beyond the gathering out front where it’s a lot more private. I want him to open up to me. I hate the game I’m forced to play with other guys. It’s such a delicate balance when I’m not sure if someone is feeling me out or not. I don’t want to come on too strong if he’s not, but I’d regret not making my intentions clear if he is.

“You could say that,” Ben replies noncommittally. His back is to me as we march single file against the side of the house so I can’t see his face. Is he teasing me or turning me down? I can’t tell.

“Why are you here anyway?” I ask, deciding to change tactics. “Are you Eric’s cousin or something?”

“Yeah, right,” he snickers as we enter the clearing in the backyard, the woodshed looming before us. “I work for him part-time at the garden center. It’s a lot of manual labor, but it helps pay for shit like gas and—”

“An endless supply of condoms,” I interject, never taking my eyes off his chiseled profile that is now bathed in moonlight.

“You’re pretty funny, you know that? I pegged you for more of a dick.” He shakes his head while trudging forward, not even winded from carrying my heavy bags.

“Why do say that? You don’t even know me,” I mutter.

“I saw you making a move on Ivy in the diner. You could’ve fooled me,” he chuckles. If he’s baiting me, I’m falling right into his trap. I’m caught off guard by his admission that he noticed me around town last summer.

“About what?” I question, hoping this is going in the direction I think it is. “Being a player?”

“More like being gay,” he states plainly, lining up my suitcases against the woodshed as he turns to face me.

“Is that something you’re into?” I ask, swallowing hard.

“Could be, if I met the right guy,” he appraises me before stepping forward, his mouth inches from mine.

Suddenly, the kitchen lights flick on, throwing us in the spotlight. I instinctively take a step back, regretting it as I do. Ben sighs dishearteningly over my reaction. He’s young and brash. He doesn’t know how much this could complicate matters. He thinks he can have whomever he wants without any consequences. I used to be that guy. I know the mindset. It’s dangerous, especially in a town like this. I can tell he’s had everything he’s ever wanted handed to him, no questions asked. But he needs to realize he’s putting his whole life in jeopardy if he’s going to pursue me openly. It’s not worth it. I’m used to lurking in the shadows. He’ll get used to it too. Besides, he’s hooked now. There’s no going back.

“Meet me back here around midnight,” I urge, licking my lips in anticipation. “Knock three times so I know it’s you.”

He smiles mischievously at me. “I’ll park at the garden center and walk over from there. This way, Eric and Ivy won’t hear my truck.”

“Will! Ben! C’mon inside. It’s time to eat,” Ivy yells out, sliding open the kitchen window.

We both jump guiltily at the sound of her voice.

“We’ll be right there,” I manage to shout back.

I tilt my head in the direction of the house, and we match our strides while hiking up the grassy hill. I’m excited about our scheduled rendezvous. Ben fascinates me. I need to know more about him.

“Have you ever been with a man?” I ask, whispering as we approach the house.

“A boy. I wouldn’t call him a man,” he replies, and I feel myself grow hot. “Not like you anyway.”

Stealing the last slice of darkness before we reach the porch, I latch my pinky finger onto his. “Tonight, I’m all yours.” For the first time all evening, I detect he’s having a hard time breathing as I stroll past him and open the front door. “Are you coming?”

“I plan on it,” he says, brushing past me as he enters the house. “All night long.”

Now it’s my turn to catch my breath as he saunters away from me, throwing an arm around his make-believe bimbo. She chats in his ear, but he ignores her, his eyes fixed on me.

It makes me wonder what ‘boy’ he was with. But I won’t think about that now. I’ll think about it later, after I’ve had him all to myself.