Chapter Six
Ben woke just as the first signs of light came through the parts of the window not covered by the blackout drapes. It couldn’t have been much later than daybreak. He shifted slightly, giving up on that thought quickly. He would swear he could feel every cell in his left arm all the way down to the bone. A dull pain squeezed at the area every time his heart beat.
It had been a bad cut. He hadn’t bled that much since that slice on his stomach years ago. Something moved on his stomach. He frowned, the corners of his mouth sliding up as he saw the slender fingers coming to rest near his solar plexus. He moved his left arm with a slight hiss to ensure it was away from her hand before looking at the woman next to him. Dahlia was still on the other side of the bed with only her torso leaning towards him so her arm could reach him. She hadn’t changed. Her jeans were on the floor near the bed and a nightgown lay nearby, as if she had started to change, but then had decided to just sleep before finishing.
He placed his right hand over her left, lifting it to his mouth to kiss the inside of her wrist. Her eyes opened, working to focus on him in the darkness for a moment. She froze and then jerked away, moving him enough to knock his hurt arm against his side. He winced.
She pulled her arm back to her chest, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. Is your arm all right?”
He released a breath. “It’s manageable.”
Scrambling to the side of the bed, she stood. “I’m going to change the dressing. The cleaner we can keep things, the better off we’ll be. Do you need a painkiller?”
“It’s okay.” He shook his head. “I have a high pain threshold.”
She nodded. “Wait here.”
He didn’t move, letting her come back with supplies to wash, salve, and then re-bandage his arm.
“Are you sure you don’t want something for the pain?” She studied the wound and frowned. “It’s inflamed. It has to hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“Really, Ben, you don’t need to put on a strong face. There’s no reason to be in pain.”
“It’s good for you,” he said. “Builds character.”
“I disagree.”
“Are you going to keep harping on this until I agree to take something?”
“Maybe,” she said.
He sighed in resignation. “I thought you didn’t have anything to give me except that blood thinner stuff.”
“Willow bark,” she said. “I don’t have anything strong, but there are some over-the-counter pain killers I have around. One of them should help if nothing else.”
“Fine.” He sighed.
She moved to her dresser in silence.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“For the obvious,” he said. “You could have let me bleed to death.”
“I’m a doctor.” She shrugged. “I took an oath saying I would heal those who came to me for help.”
“You could have turned me in.” He watched for her reaction.
“Believe me, I’m still considering it.” She handed him two red pills and a glass of water. “Truthfully, I should.”
“Should you?”
“Having a man able to hack into our system? Having anyone able to hack into our system for that matter. That’s pretty much the definition of a security risk.”
Ben held her gaze. “We have nothing else, Dahlia, let us have something.”
“Let you have a way to throw our entire communication systems off?”
“Not like we can do anything. We can hack in and do a few things, we can’t overthrow the government or anything.”
“The little things add up,” Dahlia said.
“You turn me in, and I’ll never see daylight again.”
“More likely your friend’s the one who would get the brunt of it.”
“I’d rather be thrown in myself than pushing it off on my friend.”
Dahlia sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “Do you understand what sort of position you’re putting me in, Ben? If someone else finds out about your friend’s little talent and finds out that I knew about it, but didn’t say anything... I’d be just as culpable as either of you.”
“I just said I wouldn’t sell out my friends. That includes you.”
She sighed. “We aren’t friends, Ben.”
He frowned. “We aren’t?”
“We can’t be friends. There’s no possible scenario where being friends would be possible.”
“I’m sure there is. Obviously I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I consider you someone I care about enough to at least protect you from someone if I could.”
She scoffed, placing a hand on her hips. “What have I done to deserve your ‘protection’?”
He nodded at his arm. “If nothing else, I owe you. I’m not selfish enough to ask for someone’s help, and then refuse to give them any when they need it.”
She didn’t respond.
“I know you don’t have a reason to help me anymore than you already have,” he said. “I mean, I’m just a man, right? A mutation? I’m asking, if not out of friendship, out of compassion. Pity, even, if you can’t offer anything else. Help me just a little more.”
She paused another beat. “I don’t pity you.”
He laughed with derision. “You’re lying, ignorant about my situation, or heartless. From what I know about you, I don’t think it’s the last two.”
“You’re in a bad situation.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t think there’s anyone here that’s ignorant enough to think you aren’t. It isn’t that I don’t have the sympathy to appreciate that situation, because I do. But pity... no. You have someone you care enough about to want to protect them, enough to sacrifice yourself to protect them. If nothing else, that makes you human. You might deserve sympathy, but no human deserves something as condescending as pity.”
He stood, relying on his good arm to push him up, and moved towards her. “I consider you a friend, Dahlia, even if you don’t think I am. I wouldn’t sell you out. I do care about you.”
“Don’t you dare.” Dahlia frowned.
His eyebrows furrowed. “Dare what?”
“Caring is what gets people in trouble in situations like this.” She jabbed a finger at him. “I won’t turn you in, which, yes, is stupid on my part, but I won’t if only for some misguided compassion for all of humankind. It is in no way a personal favor for you.”
He smiled knowingly. “Duly noted.”
“Get that smirk off your face before I change my mind.” She glared at him.
He ran his good hand along her jaw line. “You might be smart enough to avoid any misguided affection, but you forget I’m at a lower evolutionary level than you.”
“Stop it,” she insisted.
“Just, let me, all right?” He stepped a little closer, letting his injured arm drop to his side.
“Stop it before I call up the guards and have them drag you away.”
He watched her chest rise and fall with rapid breaths and felt her pulse speed up under his hand. He bent, brushing his lips against her collarbone. When she didn’t pull away, he kissed it again, moving to the hollow of her neck.
“Ben, stop it,” she said in a quiet voice.
“I don’t want to,” he mumbled against her skin.
“Seriously.” She pushed against his chest. “Stop it.”
All at once, he jerked, stiffened and stumbled backwards.
“Are you all right?” Her eyes widened and her hands went to his waist, making sure he didn’t hit his hurt arm against anything.
“Yeah,” he croaked. “My...”
“Your...?”
He steadied himself and then touched his collarbone.
“Oh.” She looked at the scar there. “Did I hit...? I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to. I didn’t push that hard...”
“Yeah.” He gave a short laugh. “If you had, I would be on the ground right now.”
“I’m really, really sorry.” She helped him sit on the chair near her desk. “I really didn’t mean to... shock you or whatever that chip does.”
“Well, it took my mind off my arm.” He offered a tense smile.
She laughed nervously. “Not your week is it?”
“Seems to be shaping up that way.”
“I can get you some more acetaminophen,” she said. “You aren’t close to overdosing.”
“That those red and white pills?”
Dahlia nodded.
“I’ll really be okay. I’ve lived with that chip as far back as I can remember.”
She frowned at that. “You don’t know how big it is?”
He shook his head. “All I know is they put it in there when I was two. Only reason I can figure that out is I have a memory someone doing something to my shoulder that hurt like a bitch when I was that young.”
“If it’s right under the skin like that and not too big, it probably wouldn’t be that hard to remove.”
“Are you offering to take it out?” He looked at her.
She froze as the implication hit her, shrugged off the question. “Just hypothesizing.”
“Well, it makes no difference I suppose,” Ben said. “They’d notice if it were missing. It has all our information on it. They’d be a little suspicious if they scanned me on the way home and couldn’t find anything.”
“Information chips.” She shook her head.
“What about them?”
“They sound uncomfortably close to how we track the animals we have on farms.”
“Well, no offense, but you don’t seem to consider us much better than anything you might raise on a farm.”
“I might take offence if it weren’t true, but...”
He nodded in understanding
She moved over to her closet, pulling the shirt she had been wearing from the day before off and pulling a new one on. “I’m going to get us a big breakfast. You need to keep your strength up. You lost a lot of blood yesterday.”
“Okay, Doc.”
She pulled on a pair of pants. “Ben, don’t call me Doc.”
“Sure thing, Doc.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Grabbing her key card, she slipped it into her back pocket before heading outside.
Summer was finally abating, leaving the air moist but crisp, almost as if a fog were going to move in. Soon it would be time to break out her winter clothes.
“Top o’ the morning.” Cassandra popped up in her usual bright fashion. She studied Dahlia for a long moment. “You look awful.”
Dahlia snorted. “Thanks.”
“You know, that’s not what I meant.” Her friend waved that away. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Not especially.” Dahlia shook her head. “I’m thinking of picking up breakfast and then calling in sick. Are you heading straight to work?”
“Got an early appointment.” Cassandra nodded.
“Will you let Kristen know I’m not coming in? You can call me if the ER’s insane, but if not, I’m going back to bed.”
“Sure.” She put a hand on Dahlia’s forehead and then her neck.
“My glands aren’t swollen and no fever.” Dahlia batted her hand away. “I’m just run down.”
“You need to stop working so hard,” Cassandra said.
“Call me if they really need me, okay?”
* * * *
Back at the men’s camp, Jude looked up as the door to the barrack opened. He stared at Ben for a long moment and then released a sigh. “So you’re alive.”
“She’s a good doctor,” Ben said.
“Not what I was talking about.” Jude shook his head.
“If she had turned us in, do you think I’d be here?”
“So.” Jude continued looking at him. “We’ve got her?”
“All but.” Ben rolled his shoulders.
Jude nodded. “You going to let me see?”
Ben pulled his sleeve up.
“Deep.” Jude examined it.
“Needed stitches.” Ben smiled. “Looked a lot worse few days ago. She made me wait until I had better use of that arm.”
“And you insisted on running all the way out to her before you had someone look at it?”
“It worked didn’t it?” Ben looked at the now pink skin before letting his sleeve drop.
“Women tend to love helping people,” Jude agreed. “I think it’s that whole maternal instinct thing they’ve been trying to squash.”
“Give me two more days and I’ll have her on board with anything we want her to do,” Ben said.
Jude released another heavy sigh, but didn’t debate it. “I got one of the lotto numbers from the kids, so I’m heading out tomorrow night. We’ll see if it’s anyone important.”
“Hopefully,” Ben said. “We don’t have three weeks to wait on some janitor.”
“Maybe I could take your approach and turn them over to our side,” Jude said. “You’re not the only one with charisma.”
“We could use a janitor’s help, how?”
“You aren’t exactly with a magistrate.”
“She’s a doctor,” Ben said. “There’s always use for someone who knows how to stitch people up.”
“And leave the stitches in, eh.” Jude nodded at his arm.
“She said she’d call me back in about a week after the skin heals some more to take it out.”
“Did she now.”
Ben frowned at Jude’s half-smirk. “What’s that look for?”
“Nothing. You just got this weird little smile when you started talking about her calling you back. You aren’t falling for her, are you?”
“I like her,” Ben said. “She’s generally a good person. I’m not going all soft and squishy though. I’m not a woman. I don’t have to fight down my emotions.”
“Just remember, if things go wrong, she’s most likely the one we’ll have to throw to the wolves.” Jude looked at the old analog clock on the wall. “Come on. The boys have been waiting for you to move on with combat training.”
Ben shook his head. “You know just as much about that as I do at this point.”
“Not in execution,” Jude said. “Besides, you’re the one who sent Eli to the hospital.”
“I didn’t exactly escape unscathed.” He touched his arm and winced.
“You aren’t the one in the hospital right now. Albeit you were at your own ‘doctor,’ but it should help you with your street cred. No one’s dared mess with us, even with you gone, since then. Brought at least half a dozen of the younger guys over.”
Ben nodded. “I just don’t feel much like fighting right now, Jude.”
“Not like it’s real. It’s just instruction. Your arm hurt?”
“Not really.” He looked at his arm. “Dahlia all but forced me to eat some poppy-based something or another. It makes you not really care about the pain. Makes you a little sleepy though.”
“Girl who gives you drugs.” Jude smiled. “I get the look now.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “I’m going to take a nap.”
“Think you’ll be awake in a couple hours?”
“Why?”
“Want to know when to rally the troops.”
Ben sighed, climbing up to his bunk. “I’ll be up before dinner.”
* * * *
“You really are a quick healer.” Dahlia studied Ben’s arm.
“Always have been,” Ben said.
“I’m going to take out the stitches.” She rose to begin.
“Whatever you say, Doc.”
“What did I say about calling me Doc?” Dahlia sent him a look.
“You know you like it,” he said.
“Take off your shirt,” she directed, ignoring his crooked smile. “Refraining from any juvenile jokes would be appreciated.”
The smile dropped. “Ruin all my fun, won’t you?”
“I try.” She turned and then frowned. “What happened to your side?”
“The scar?”
“No.” She shook her head. “That bruise.”
“Oh.” He looked at the bruise that took up most of the area on his right ribcage. “We were playing. Rugby, actually. It can get pretty physical.”
“With your hurt arm?”
“It’s been feeling fine.”
“Are you trying to stay injured?” She shook her head, turning around to pick up another jar before moving towards the bed.
“It’s just a game. No one I know has ever gotten seriously injured from it.”
Dahlia didn’t answer as she opened the jar.
“What’s that?”
“Arnica,” she said, rubbing it on his side. “It’ll help it heal more quickly.”
He nodded.
“How old is it?” she asked.
“The bruise?”
“No, your body.” She sent him an unimpressed look.
“The body, twenty-some years.” He smiled.
She sighed, not taking the bait. “And the bruise?”
“I don’t know. A few days?”
“You don’t remember when you got it?” Dahlia asked.
“Two, three days ago, maybe.” He shrugged. “Why?”
She looked at him and then shook her head. “Just wondering if I should be worried about broken ribs. If you’ve made it this far without breathing issues...”
“None whatsoever,” he said.
She ran a hand over his side. “Yeah, everything seems to be in place.”
“And... arnica?” he tried the word.
“Arnica Montana.” She screwed the jar shut. “Also known as wolf’s bane. Great for bruises, sprains, whatever.”
“You have everything, don’t you?”
“I have full run of the herb garden. Plants used to be the only medicine before Alexandria Fleming came up with penicillin.”
“Alexander,” Ben corrected without thinking.
“What?”
“Alexander Fleming,” he said. “I don’t know many medical facts, but a man discovered penicillin.”
“Right.” Dahlia smiled as if to herself. “Arm.”
“Fine, don’t believe me.”
“Fine,” she said. “Arm.”
He offered it to her, letting her use the small bent scissors she had to cut the thread and tweezers to pull it out. He looked at her to avoid looking at his arm. “Thank you again, by the way.”
“Hmm?” She didn’t look up from cutting out the thread.
“For taking care of all this.”
“No problem.” She pulled out the last bit of thread and wrapped his arm. “It gives me a chance to bone up on all the first aid stuff. That won’t need to stay wrapped for long.”
“So I’m your test subject,” he said
“You’d better hope not. Most of the test subjects I’ve had were in med school, and they were cadavers.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’d want to stay away from that job.”
“Though I can’t make any promises if you keep lying to me.”
His face blanched slightly. “What?”
“No way that bruise is two days old.” She nodded at it.
His forehead creased.
“See how it looks sort of green?” Dahlia threw away the thread. “That doesn’t happen until the bruise is well on its way to healing. With a bruise that deep, I would guess you got that six, seven days ago.”
“Maybe.” Ben shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
She looked him over. “You’re a good liar. I’ll have to remember that.”
“What makes you think I’m lying?”
“You’d remember the difference between two days and six. Now, the real question is, what would you be doing to get that that would make you feel like you had to lie to me about it?”
He sighed. “It was another fight, okay?”
“Another one?”
“Yes,” he said. “I know you have your little ‘men are so violent’ issues, so I thought I’d just say it was a game. I was playing rugby a couple days ago.”
“It gave you that bruise?”
“Doesn’t hurt. I just got flipped.” He shrugged.
Dahlia pressed her lips together in a narrow line. “I thought I told you not to do anything to that arm.”
“Why I got flipped,” he said. “I was favoring my right side.”
“Do you think you can keep from getting into another fight for the next couple of days, or do I have to start keeping you here?”
“Fights don’t bother me.”
“So you’d rather keep going until you die, or at least become paraplegic.”
“I suppose so.” Ben nodded with that engaging grin.
“You’re infuriating.”
“Well, if I weren’t, I wouldn’t get into fights, would I?”
Dahlia frowned. “You sound like getting yourself cut up is something you want.”
“Well, scars give me character.”
She hummed, unconvinced. “Well, sorry to tell you, but the stuff I put on your arm should reduce the scaring. If I had known you wanted it, I’d have cut it deeper.”
“No problem.” Ben smiled. “The guy who gave me that is still in traction, but I’m sure I can get another sometime.”
“Are you suggesting that you put someone in the hospital?”
“One of the older men taught me Krav Maga years back. Took me under his wing, so to speak.”
“Krav Maga?”
“It’s a hand to hand combat style. One of the original men knew it, and taught a small group. It’s passed down so our group sort of has the corner on the market.”
“That’s how you got your arm cut up?”
“It’s how I only got that,” he said. “Other guy had a knife. I had to deal with my bare hands.”
“So you proceeded to put him in traction.”
“Nearly broke his neck I think.”
She shook her head. “You must be so proud.”
“I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes I am.” He smiled. “It’s not a bad thing to know how to protect yourself.”
“It’s a bad thing that you have to know how to defend yourself,” Dahlia said. “Couldn’t you have just hit his chip?”
“Unwritten rule of the camps, you don’t go for the groin or chips.”
“But breaking a guy’s neck is okay?”
“I nearly broke his neck,” Ben said. “Honestly, I think the crack was his... clavicle? That’s the collarbone, right?”
Dahlia nodded, and then touched her neck. “Could you break my neck?”
Ben frowned. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable turning my back on you if the answer is yes.”
“That’s what the chips are for.” He shrugged. “You’d just hit it. Anyway, if I were going to try to hurt you, I’d have done it by now.”
“That’s comforting.” Dahlia frowned, not reassured.
He smiled. “I’m not going to hurt you, Lia.”
“So you say.” She sat down, leaning against the headrest. “Since when have you called me Lia?”
“Well, you don’t seem like a Dolly, and you don’t like ‘Doc’.” He paused a moment. “Look, if I were harboring some sort of homicidal urge towards you, which I’m not, killing you would be a monumentally stupid move for me. Someone comes in and sees you dead while I’m here? I’m pretty sure I’d be completely screwed even if your death hadn’t been my fault.
Dahlia nodded and then laughed.
“What?” He frowned, sliding up to sit next to her.
“You could always suggest that it was some sexual exploit gone wrong.”
“I don’t know.” Ben looked her over. “You don’t seem like the kinky type.”
“Well, you never know with the quiet ones,” Dahlia said.
“You talk too much to be called a quiet one.”
“You’re a bit of an ass sometimes, you know that?”
“You’re sort of a bitch sometimes, so we work well together.”
Her eyes dropped to his chest. “You know, I’ve been putting together a list of herbs I’m sure you could grow at the camp. I know you can’t read it, but if you had someone plant them—”
“Lia?”
“Yeah?” she cut off her rambling.
He looked at her for a long moment.
“What?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to have sex with me?”
Her cheeks flushed. “I told you—”
“Dahlia.” He stood. “You’re an attractive woman. I like you. You chose me, so obviously you don’t find me repulsive. I don’t understand why you have such an aversion to the idea of us having sex.”
“Then?” She crossed her arms. “I didn’t see a reason to want a man to have sex with.”
“And now?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Now...” She released a breath. “Because you’re nice. Because I like being with you.”
“I don’t see that as a detriment to the act of having sex.”
“I like you as a person, Ben. It might, might, even be bordering on a friendship. Sex releases hormones that make you feel attached to a person. Combine those hormones with this misguided affection I have for you? I’d become much too attached. I mean, at this point I’m too attached, I should have switched you out already, but I like talking to you and hate the whole choosing ceremony thing. If I became even more attached I’d have no choice but to send you away.”
He stood, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I can make sure that I’m especially ass-like afterwards if it makes you feel better. Circumvent that whole attachment thing.”
“Is sex really that important to you?”
“Well, I’m a man, so, yeah.”
She smiled. “You know, I’m going to say it again, if you’re going to try not to be a stereotype, you’re going to have to stop picking and choosing what stereotypes you like because you can use them as excuses.”
“Well, not all stereotypes are wrong,” he said. “Just a lot of them.”
“Convenient.”
He slid his hand under the hem of her shirt, resting it on the small of her back. “If you truthfully aren’t attracted to me, or aren’t... whatever, just tell me that. However, if you’re just afraid of, I don’t know, actually caring about a man, caring about me, I don’t think that’s a good enough excuse.”
“I don’t want to talk about this, Ben.” She leaned away from him, her back arching over his hand that was keeping her in place.
“What if I do?”
“I’m the one who has the ability to leave the building.”
“You’ve run every other time I’ve tried to talk to you. You think you’re going to be able to avoid the topic forever?”
“You aren’t going to be here forever,” she said. “You’ve got another four weeks and then the three months is up.”
“Then what are you going to tell the next guy?”
“I don’t think I have to tell any of you anything.”
“Any of us,” he repeated. “Men you mean?”
“Well, you especially, since you have no way to stick around long enough to wear me down, but I’m very good at avoiding things I don’t want to talk about in general.”
“You’re better than us anyway, so who cares what we want to say.”
Dahlia frowned. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you think it.” He released her.
“When have I ever said I was better than you?”
“Let’s see.” He crossed his arms. “The first time you met me?”
“Fair enough,” she said. “But since I got to know you?”
He stepped away from her.
“Ben... Benjamin, you’re obviously very smart, and caring, and a hundred other things I didn’t know men could be. I didn’t mean anything by what I said, and I’ve never thought what you’re accusing me of. If I say something that sounds insulting... it’s a slip.”
“Slip.”
“Yes,” she said. “I grew up with twenty years of how good women were and how great life had been since we got rid of you. Our entire language is femicentric. It’s easy enough to slip. I’m sorry. I’m doing my best, really.”
He didn’t respond.
“Have I ever tried to degrade you, Ben? You’re human. I’ve admitted that more than once.” She smiled slightly. “Even if you’re a mutated one.”
He scoffed. “You know you had just as much a chance as I did of coming out with a Y-chromosome.”
“Maybe,” Dahlia agreed. “Maybe it’s fate, luck, or just plain chance. Whatever it was, it just means I was raised in a different way by different people from you.”
He swallowed. “It means we’re both human and at one point we were equals. Actually, at one point we were superior. Women were marginalized. The balance finally hit equal and then—”
“Ben, please.” Dahlia held up a hand. “All your alternate history stories give me a headache. Anyway, what does the past matter? We live here and now. We can’t do anything about the past or even prove what was in the past.”
“When your life is crap in the ‘here and now’, Lia, you tend to have to look at the past so you can think about the future.”
She looked at him, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, all right? I’m sorry that your life is so awful.”
“It’s not just my life,” Ben said. “It’s the life of every single damn person with the misfortune of being born with a Y-chromosome. Every new regime needs an enemy. We drew the short straw this time around.”
“What short...?” Her eyebrows furrowed and then she waved it off. “Never mind. Just... everything in our world is set up on the idea that we’re better off with you away from us.”
“Maybe it’s time to set up a different world then,” he said.
She frowned and put off asking the question as long as she could. “What do you mean?”
“Things changed once.” He paused. “People could change it again.”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this, Ben.” She crossed her arms. “But if it’s going where I think it’s going, you’re talking treason.”
“Treason.” He raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Dahlia moved towards the bathroom.
“What?” He moved after her. “Do they have surveillance on you in your room?”
“Of course not.” She turned, resting her hand on the doorframe.
“Then what does it hurt to talk?”
“When you’re talking about... what is it you are talking about? Revolution?”
“If we stuck all of you in camps and used you only when we wanted sons would you be happy with your lot in life?”
Dahlia threw up her hands. “I can’t listen to this, Ben. I’m already protecting you from the whole hacking thing. If you are trying to start... anything, any trouble, don’t tell me about it. I can’t know about it.”
He looked at her for a long moment and then shrugged. “It’s all hypothetical.”
“A dangerous hypothetical,” Dahlia said. “Especially for you. I don’t think the whole Rights of the Accused thing extends to men.”
“Not a whole lot extends to us.”
She swallowed and nodded in acknowledgement. “I suppose it would be easy for someone in your situation to hate us. To hate women.”
“Are you trying to say I’m a misogynist?”
“No.” Dahlia shook her head. “Just saying it’s interesting that you don’t seem to have some sort of antipathy towards me. Seems to be quite the opposite really.”
He released a breath and moved towards her again. He brushed a piece of hair out of her face, gently pulling her out of the doorway. “I’m sorry. It’s a touchy subject.”
She nodded.
“Anyway, it’s not your fault you were brainwashed.”
She raised an eyebrow, leaning away from him. “Excuse me?”
“They’ve spent over three-hundred years making women believe men are all that is wrong with the world. You’re a product of your society. I suppose I blame them, not you.”
She tapped her fingers on her leg, nervous. “Blame is a dangerous thing.”
He smiled. “You seem to think any sort of emotion is dangerous.”
She pressed her lips together in a thin line. “It depends on the emotion.”
“Well, you can be reasonable.” He stepped closer again, slipping his arm around her waist to force her to stop tapping. “I’m done with trying that. I’m perfectly comfortable being a slave to my emotions.”
“Are we really back here again?”
“Seems that way.” He kissed her neck. “No better way of making up after a fight.”
“Ben—”
“I still think you’re attractive. I still like you. It seems we’ll keep coming back to that.”
“How is it possible you can consistently be more and more annoying?” She leaned back and only succeeding in sandwiching herself between him and the wall.
“Please?” He continued to kiss her neck.
“Why are you so stubborn?”
“I thought we had covered that.”
She sighed. “Just...”
“Just what?”
“Give me one second, okay?” She placed her hands on his chest, careful to keep them below his collarbone. “I need to look at something.”
“Look at something?” Ben frowned.
“Please?”
He hesitated, but then nodded, stepping back.
She moved towards her desk to pick up a book.
“You really need this to be your reading time?” He frowned.
“Looking up endorphins.”
“Seriously?” he asked.
“Shh.” She waved him away.
“You also want to make a pro/con list?”
“Do you want me to stop reading anytime soon?” She sent him a look.
He held up his hands, sitting down on the end of her bed.
She sat, knee bouncing as she studied the page for a long moment. At last, she released a breath and then shut the book with a snap.
“So.” Ben watched her. “What’s the verdict, Doc?”
She swallowed and stood, turning to face him. “You promise you’ll be a complete jerk afterwards?”
“I’ll do my best to be the biggest jackass ever.” Ben nodded.
She smiled, but it soon faded. “Well, if we... I mean, well, I understand the basic logistics, but...”
He smiled, standing up and taking her hands. He moved backwards, pulling her to the bed. Carefully he pushed her down, moving on top of her.
“Not eager are you,” she said leaning her head back as he kissed her neck and then her collarbone.
“I’ve only been angling for this for, what? A month and a half?”
She relaxed, letting him kiss down her chest, to where her neckline fell. She frowned a moment. “Am I supposed to feel completely awkward?”
“Will you just shut up and enjoy yourself?” He spoke against her skin.
“I’ve never had someone on top of me,” she said. “Well, there was that one gym class, but that was a missed tackle.”
“I didn’t know you played contact sports,” he said.
“It wasn’t meant to be, but... whoa!” She jumped as he pulled her shirt up a little.
He smiled, keeping a strong hold of the shirt hem until he could slip it over her head. “Keep talking. You’re less stiff when you talk.”
“That isn’t strange?”
“What is?”
“Me wanting to talk through this?”
“Well, being normal is overrated.” He kissed her stomach.
She gasped. “Should I be doing something?”
“Don’t need to.” He slid his hands down to the button of her jeans. “Keep talking. What happened in gym?”
“Well, I was twelve, so I was in Rose then...”
“Rose?” he mumbled.
“The color?” she said breathlessly. “It’s what you wear when you’re put on the top academic track.”
“Hmm.” He undid her pants. “Hips up.”
She lifted her hips up absentmindedly, letting him slide off her pants. “Even when you’re not on a physical track you have to take gym, but then again, we aren’t the most physically astute people. My friend, Joan—she’s an engineer now, quite a good one so I hear—was a complete klutz in school, so when we were playing... what are you doing?”
He slid back up over her, kissing her neck again. “Nothing. Go on.”
She watched him kick off his pants. “Honestly, Ben. Shouldn’t I be doing something?”
“Just calm down.” He kissed her mouth with a light touch. “There’s no wrong way to do this.”
“So, if I just close my eyes and lie here...”
“I’m sure I’d get by.” He smiled, pulling her bra off. “Open your legs a little.”
She did.
“Are you really this nervous or just not into this at all?”
“I’m just used to doing more at this point.”
“Do you trust me?” He smiled.
“Not really.”
“At least in this?”
“I suppose.”
“Then stop thinking so much.”
Dahlia nodded, pressing her lips together.
He kissed her, trailing his lips towards her neck as he repositioned himself. “Keep talking if you need to.”
“I... I... uh...” Dahlia stammered, finally just shook her head when she couldn’t get a coherent sentence together.
He pulled his head back, just enough to look at her. “Dahlia.”
She looked at him, eyes wide.
“Do you want me to stop?”
She hesitated a moment, shook her head.
“Then trust me,” he barely whispered. “Can you do that?”
Just another slight hesitation, and she nodded, lifting her lips just enough to meet his.
It was all the invitation he seemed to need. He pressed forward. She gasped, wrapped herself around him, and felt him smile against her skin.
He dropped his head, brought his lips next to her ear as she began to fall into his rhythm. “Good. Relax. Trust me.”