When I Was Theirs

5. Emmy

5

Emmy

“ I t doesn’t matter.”

Carla follows me over to the dishwasher, confusion knitting her brows together. “But I don’t understand.”

You and me both.

Slamming the door closed, I turn to her. “He walked me home, Carla. He was being kind. There’s nothing else to say. I probably won’t even see him again.”

There’s a lot more that I could say. A lot of it, I already whisper-yelled in the safety of my apartment this morning, right after watching Ben walk away from me without looking back.

This is why we don’t take risks, Emmy.

We certainly don’t dance in the rain with dark-eyed men before inviting them back to our apartment.

I must have lost my damn mind.

I swallow down the pain in my throat. I wasn’t imagining it. I know I wasn’t.

You can’t fake that kind of connection.

Or maybe you’re just seeing things. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“It doesn’t matter." Stalking to the bar, I tip my head, taking another order before I turn back to her. “He’s gone.”

I should be grateful. At least I still have a job. To my surprise, the bar was open when I walked up earlier. Adrian muttered something about safety improvements before stalking back to the office where he spends most of his time.

Forcing all thoughts of Ben from my mind, I lose myself in work, taking orders and cleaning up with a ferocity that has Carla blinking as I sweep past her for the third time with a tray of empties. A smaller stack, this time. “Would you slow down? You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

“Sorry.” I dump them onto the bar before ducking back into the crowd. It’s not as busy tonight, our usual crowd thin on the ground after last night’s blackout.

My patience is thin. When a hand lands on my ass, I spin, glaring at the skinny weasel. “Hands off .”

He falls back, laughing in the safety of a crowd of like-minded friends as he holds up his hands. “You’re a feisty one. I like that.”

His eyes crawl over my skin, landing on my scar. “What happened to your face?”

None of your fucking business.

Keeping my mouth shut, I move past them. Someone mutters about candle wax, and they all laugh.

Assholes.

By the time my shift ends, my mood is darker than the sky outside. It’s not raining, but I throw my umbrella up outside the bar anyway, glowering at the lights above me.

“Emmy.”

I pause for a second, before my shoulders tighten and I walk away.

When he appears next to me, matching my pace, I swing to him. “What are you doing here, Ben?”

The circles beneath his eyes are deeper today. He rubs at the back of his neck. “I didn’t want you to walk home on your own again.”

“Well, I managed just fine before last night.” Turning, I stride down the street. “Feel free to leave me to it.”

“Hey!”

We both turn at the shout, and my shoulders rise another inch. The asshole from earlier peels away from the wall outside The Setlist. He stumbles forward, his words slurred. “You. You didn’t tell me your name.”

There’s a guy with him. He snickers as he looks at me. “Scarface.”

How fucking original.

I’m bracing myself to tell them to fuck all the way off when Ben steps in front of me. “What the fuck did you just call her?”

His voice is low, his hands tightening into fists.

I stare up at his back. “Ben – leave it. It doesn’t matter.”

“No.” He puts out his arm when I try to step around him, keeping his body between me and them. “You heard me, asshole. What the fuck did you just call her ?”

“Chill man,” the first guy slurs again. “She was into me earlier.”

“Like hell I was,” I snap from around the wall of muscle in front of me. “Go home.”

“You’re coming with me.”

I can feel the fury that fills Ben. “You heard her. Back the hell off and go home.”

“Or what?” I peer around Ben to see the friend stepping forward. He’s skinny, but there’s a glint in his eyes as he stares up at Ben that tells me alcohol isn’t the only thing in his veins tonight. “You gonna make me?”

“Ben—,”

He moves, and I hear a crunch as his fist lands directly in the skinny guy’s face.

Fuck – fuck.

There’s two of them, and one of him.

But the guy drops like a stone, and Ben looks over to his drunk friend. “Don’t come back here.”

The guy’s eyes widen and he backs off, holding up his hands. “Fine. She’s not fucking worth it.”

Ben waits for him to grab his friend and walk away, before he swings around to me and points. “I’m walking you home. No arguments.”

I’m not an idiot. “ Fine .”

We walk in silence for a few minutes, until I can’t take it anymore. “Nothing like that has ever happened before.”

He huffs. “There’s always a first time.”

“Why did you come back?” I stop short, folding my arms around me. “Why bother?”

Ben pauses, a step ahead of me. My eyes drop to the swollen knuckles on his right hand.

When he doesn’t say anything, just watches me with those brown eyes that see too much, I swallow. “I didn’t imagine it.”

“No.” His voice is rough. “But I told you, I’m leaving.”

“They have these magical inventions called phones.”

“I don’t have a phone.”

I stare at his back as he turns away. “Come on.”

“What do you mean, you don’t have a phone?”

Who doesn’t have a phone anymore? How does he survive?

“Exactly that,” he says shortly. “I don’t have a phone.”

“When are you leaving?” His strides are twice as long as mine. I shuffle to catch up with him and he slows to match my pace.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Maybe a few months. Maybe sooner. I’m not sure yet.”

He’s not looking at me, and I study the side of his face. “A few months is a long time.”

“No, it’s not.” His voice is more abrupt now. “It’s barely anything, Emmy.”

“So that’s it?” I stop again, calling after him as he moves ahead. “You’re… what? Going to walk me home, and that’s it? One day you disappear?”

Ben swallows as he turns back to me. And there’s so much pain behind his eyes in that moment that something close to fear clenches my stomach. “Yeah, Emmy. That’s all I can give you.”

I tilt my head. “What are you not telling me?”

He half-smiles. Tired and rumpled, in another faded band tee. “It’s not that deep. I just… I’ll have to leave. And if we start this… I don’t know if I’d be able to stop.”

It sounds cheesy as hell. And yet… it doesn’t.

Because I know what he means.

“Somebody told me that life is too short to waste the good times worrying about the bad,” I say softly. I take a step toward him, and he doesn’t move.

“What an idiot,” he mutters. “Don’t listen to him.”

I watch him. Ben looks… heavier tonight. Like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. He doesn’t react when I slip my hand into his, aside from an inhaled breath. “What are you doing?”

“Come on,” I tug on his fingers, nodding down. “I have some ice for that hand.”

Ben follows me quietly, but his hold on my hand is tight.

“You shouldn’t be walking home on your own,” he says finally. “Someone should walk with you.”

Someone that isn’t him, he means.

Because he’s leaving.

“I don’t have anyone else.”

He glances at me. “Nobody?”

Silently, I shake my head. “You?”

He inhales again. “I have an older brother. He’s not here, though.”

“So it’s just us.” I pause as we reach my doorway. It’s wide open tonight, whoever left last not even bothering to push it closed to give the illusion of security. “Are you coming up, Benjamin Bennett?”

I turn to him. He’s staring at me as if it’s the last time he’ll ever see me, and I brace for a repeat of the night before.

“Yeah,” he whispers finally, and my heart leaps in my chest. “I’m coming up.”