Free On Sale for Christmas by Laurel Adams Page A

to do? Put out an advertisement and risk you getting arrested or hurt by some crazy asshole? It was tense enough thinking something could go wrong. That I could have put you at some kind of risk—"
    "It was about risk, Ben! That was the fantasy." My nostrils flared, seeing the sense of what he was saying, but blinded by fear and upset anyway. "But you put me at risk in a way that I didn't consent to. We said that this is a thing between us, right? Well how can we have any kind of relationship going forward if one of your friends has—"
    "He lives two states away, and even if we cross paths, he'll never bring it up, Becca. Not to you, not to me, not to anyone. Not unless we say so. Lance swore it on the name of a friend we lost in battle. I told him it was that serious."
    Tears squeezed out of the corners of my eyes and Ben reached to wipe them away but I shoved him back. "Did you tell him who I was?"
    "Of course not!"
    "Did you tell him what to say to me when we were—"
    "Yeah, kinda," Ben said, lowering his voice so that we couldn't be overheard. "It's not like either of us had ever done anything like that before. He owed me a favor and I knew he'd be game, and I'm hugely grateful he didn't fuck it up!"
    " You fucked it up. You're friends with him, Ben. That makes it both not real, and too real. If we're together, he's going to figure out who I am. That makes me feel unsafe."
    As if I'd kicked him in the stomach, Ben lowered his head, breathing in deep labored breaths, and squeezing his eyes closed. " Fuck ."
    We were both silent for a long time.
    Ben finally murmured, "You're right. I fucked it up. I wanted to do this right for you so that you'd see that we were meant to be together, but now we can't be."
    "What do you mean?"
    Ben's eyes met mine, dark and soulful. "Just keep your distance from me. Go back to school. Just like you planned to do in the first place. No one will ever figure anything out and I'll never say a word. I'll have the memory of last night. You'll get your fantasy the way you wanted it. And you don't ever have to feel unsafe. Not because of me anyway." He took the photo from me and hung it on the wall, taking a great deal of trouble to make it level. "Problem solved."
    My chest rose and fell in shock. "Wait. Are you breaking up with me?"
    He couldn't even look at me. "Were we together?"
    "Yes, we were fucking together," I snapped. "For like, twelve hours, but yeah, we were!"
    "Well, now we're not."
    "Who are you?" I asked, shoving his arm. "One minute you're a nice guy, then you're getting down and dirty, and now you're being an asshole."
    Ben's head snapped in my direction. "I'm all those guys, okay? The guy who got down and dirty with you? Yeah. That's me. Part of me anyway. An authentic part. But there's another part, too. The part you don't like. A guy who hates risk. So let's not take the risk of being together because it obviously is a risk."
    "Wow," I said, letting everything sink in. Understanding—really understanding—that whatever he did was only to protect me. That if I'd really cared who it was, maybe I shouldn't have told him to surprise me. He'd done the best he knew how to live up to the trust I gave him, and that I ought to be grateful. And maybe I would be grateful if he wasn't breaking up with me. "Everything is a risk, Ben. It took you how many years to get up the nerve to take your shot with me? And now that you've scored, you're just walking away without even asking me what I want?"
    "I'm clearly not what you want, Becca. I am a nice guy. I'm the kind of guy who can pimp you out, but not without a twenty page checklist of contingencies."
    My stomach bottomed out. "You wrote it down?"
    "No! I'm saying that I want to fucking protect you and romance you. I want to treat you like a sex toy, make you come like a freight train, and then make you pancakes for breakfast the next morning. I want to exchange Christmas presents, and kiss you under the mistletoe, and go to see your plays