Tennessee

Ben Sydney

The fact that Paul was there for Tennessee when I hadn't been, made me strangely grateful but at the same time wildly angry with him. It was a sick and terrible feeling. Tenny is mine. Tennessee Monroe is mine.

The problem wasn't that she had a boyfriend. The problem was that it was Paul. Paul was a good guy and when he had just been that guy who worked at the coffee shop, I kind of liked him –hell, I would even consider us on friendly terms. And that was the problem: Paul was a good guy, just like me.

But if all is fair in love and war, then so be it.



I yawned as I pushed the shopping cart down the aisles. The drone of the air conditioning whirred from the tiled ceiling above and I leaned on the cart as I threw cereal and yogurt into it. The plain white shirt dress I wore showed my bare, still pale legs and my favorite and worn black leather ankle boots clicked on the smooth floor. My bulky Sidekick phone buzzed in my purse and I smiled as I read the message I had waited for.

My gaze shot up and soon my eyes found his.

"Ben," I said with a weak, guilty grin.

He let out a breathy smile as he stooped down to hug me.

I breathed in his familiar scent and my knees felt weak.

"Hey," he murmured, "Almost done?" He glanced at my cart.

"Yeah," I said, unsure.

I had called him up to see if he wanted to meet me for a movie or dinner, but I had to go to the grocery store first, and he invited himself over.

I went to get some pomegranate juice when Ben's hand moved to the small of my back. I nearly gasped but felt the heat of contentment hit my chest and I settled closer to him. It was bad, it was really bad.

We walked to checkout stand in silence and I stole smiles and glances at him. He wore tight, dark pants and a simple plaid button up. I was piling things on the conveyor belt when Ben's hand caught my wrist and picked it up. I cursed under my breath and tried to pull away.

A ton of scars and pin prick marks covered the inside of my arm. His long fingers traced the pink scars faintly and I felt the familiar ache of tears build behind my eyes. Ben's dark eyes seemed to blacken as he put my arm back and turned to pay for my things. I was so humiliated that I went outside to wait for him to come out. I stood in the warm, heavy air, watching cars whiz by in the dark night.

Ben soon came out, holding two brown paper bags and I looked at the floor as I mumbled, "Thanks."

"I would have never expected any of that from you," Ben whispered as he handed me a bag.
My eyes didn't leave the floor.

"It was really hard, okay?" My voice broke on the words.

"I know, I know," Ben murmured as he wrapped his arms around me. I dug deeper into his chest and found my arms wound around his waist, pulling him in close.

I hated drugs, I hated them. My conscience haunted me every night because of them. The shady nights, the dank clubs, and the suspicious people involved followed me everywhere, a stain on my thoughts. Ben's worry and words frightened me, but still made me kind of angry. These emotions had been so compartmentalized that the familiar agony of Ben Sydney was too much to handle.

"I'm so, so sorry," Ben whispered, digging a hand into my hair and pulling my face apart to face my eyes.

I stood there, staring at him. He glanced at my lips and I pulled away quickly, knowing where it would go, because I knew that if something happened, I couldn't stop it. It would be the end of everything.

"Please don't. Not now," I whispered through gritted teeth.

Ben nodded and he took the bags from my hands and we walked to my apartment. We dropped the groceries in the fridge quickly and headed out into the night. Ben and I walked a little too close together.

Ben insisted on a cab to a restaurant he really liked and I shrugged and nodded. We drove into the city and I smiled as I watched the scenes fly by.

I was caught off guard as Ben began to slowly lift my hair, his lips trailed down my collarbone and I gasped.

"Ben, stop," I whispered.

The cab stopped and the driver asked for his bill, which Ben handed him and took my hand.

"My building's right here," Ben said slowly, pointing up to a sleek edifice across the street.
I looked at Ben for a long moment.

"Are you trying to fucking seduce me, Ben?" I seethed.

"Yes," he said with a smirk.

His lips moved down to my throat and I closed my eyes as he kissed the sensitive skin. I grabbed his hand and pulled apart.

"Let's go," I whispered and we walked across the street to his building. I glanced around as the doorman greeted Ben who only nodded as we ran into the black marble elevator.

I didn't know what I was doing anymore. Only my body did. I wound myself around him and he settled on kissing my neck. An almost embarrassing sound escaped my lips and it only made Ben smile against my skin. I used the elevator wall as leverage and wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to get as close as possible. I pulled gently on Ben's chin and harshly crashed my lips against his. Fire was everywhere. And then it was interrupted by a ring that signaled we were on his floor.

I broke apart from him in fear that there would be someone watching. He straightened his shirt collar and wiped at the pink lipstick on his lips. I daintily wiped at my neck and lips myself. As soon as the elevator door opened, Ben took my hand and we sprinted down the hall. He whipped out his keys and unlocked the door in lightening speed and before I knew it we were back where we started.

His hands removed my clothing as mine did his. It was so easy to go back to the way things were and it felt almost as if none of the horrible past had happened. It was Ben and I.

That night belonged to he and I alone.



Ben Sydney
The way she latched onto me. The way she gasped my name and ran her fingers through my hair. It was enough to figure that she still loved me. In fact, I knew she did. She screamed it aloud.