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Somehow, it is completely inevitable and expected that Ben is the one who finds her.
(Ben is always the one who finds her at her very worst.)
It’s been a terrible night. Devi had been hoping to brush the dead cobwebs off her dating and romantic life, but instead she feels she has only shoved it further back into an abandoned closet, inaccessible to everyone—any sort of romantic prospects included.
And it’s frustrating, because the night had been going so well, she’d gotten awfully close to kissing Alejandro, to breaking the curse of her own making, but then the lights had flickered on, and what she’d dubbed “the Ed Sheeran effect” had instantly worn off, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Call her superficial if you must, but she’s a 16-year-old girl, and that guy was significantly less of a hottie without a guitar and under the oppressive, artificial lighting of Sherman Oaks.
But now she’s absolutely screwed herself, her inability to kiss a guy tonight means she will likely never kiss one again, and that she will die a sad, lonely virgin.
She knows this is a stretch, but again, she is a 16-year-old girl. Making rash decisions and assuming the very worst about the future? That’s just part of the territory.
“Hey,” Ben says, pulling her from her spinning thoughts.
Devi looks at him, and steps closer. “Hey,” she says, gently.
“How’d it go?”
Devi lets out a sigh. “Not the way I expected.”
She expects Ben to laugh, to gloat, to mock her, to lord this over her for as long as she shall live, but instead his expression is of surprisingly genuine sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that, David.”
Devi shrugs her shoulders. “Meh. It’s not a big deal.” She punches Ben’s arm. “I’ll get ‘em next time right?”
Ben rolls his eyes, but she can tell the gesture is playful instead of malicious.
“Also,” Devi adds quickly, trying to justify her decision tonight to herself more than anyone else, “Alejandro looked like he had a real bad cold.” She shudders. “Definitely lessened the appeal of sticking my tongue in his mouth.”
“Yup,” Ben agrees. “That would certainly do it. Though I have to say, I’m surprised you have that level of restraint.”
Devi smacks his arm again. “Oh, shut up, I’m a very restrained person.”
“Oh, are you?” Ben asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Uh-huh.”
Ben scoffs. “David, you’re the most impulsive person I’ve ever met!”
“Am not!” Devi protests, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Devi.”
And there is something about him using her real name that sets her traitorous little heart aflutter.
Ben continues. “You once punched a career test result machine because it said that your ideal career was a real estate agent.”
Devi laughs, remembering the incident with perfect clarity. It shouldn’t surprise her that Ben remembers it too, he truly knows her better than anyone else. His presence in her life is something cyclical and reliable like the phases of the moon or high and low tides. “Fine,” Devi agrees with a huff. “I guess you have a point.” She tilts her head. “But, I stand by my decision, real estate agents are scum of the Earth.”
Ben nods. “I can’t argue with you there.”
Devi flashes a smile at him and is rewarded with a brief smile back.
Ben’s smile is like a rainbow, something that only appears for a few moments when sunlight strikes droplets of water hanging in the sky—at the exact right angle—after a rain shower. But it is the ephemerality of the way he looks at her, Devi decides, that makes it special. Whenever she is gifted with it, it is something she must cherish.
“So,” Devi says, placing a hand on her hip, “I noticed you were chumming it up with Stella. Did you at least manage to get some action?” She smirks. “And by that I obviously mean lips on lips.”
Ben lets out a laugh, and it warms Devi to her core, in a way that surprises her, but that is not at all unpleasant or unwelcome. Ben shakes his head. “Nah.” He cocks his head. “We just didn’t have chemistry in the end, you know? Wouldn’t want to waste my first kiss in a while on someone I don’t have any sort of connection with.” His voice drops quieter. “It should be special.”
Devi does her best to ignore the way her heart speeds up at his words, but it’s hard when Ben looks at her with his bold blue eyes that enrapture her completely.
Few animals produce blue naturally, the hues of butterflies, bluejays, poison dart frogs aren’t pigment at all, but a trick of light. Devi remembers that the scales of a butterfly, the feathers of a bluejay, are arranged in such a way that when light hits them, only the brilliant blue shows. The blue of the human eye is no exception, nothing more than a beautiful illusion caused by the erratic wave behaviour of light. The brilliance of Ben’s eyes is a trick of the light, the same way her feelings towards him are just that, something that shifts and changes with each time she alters her perspective.
And she’s altered her perspective on Ben many times.
She just didn’t realize he was still capable of kicking her heart into overdrive, tangling her stomach in knots, but well…
Feeling hot all over, Devi tugs at the collar of her shirt. She clears her throat. “So I guess that means we both lost.”
Ben blinks at her a few times. “I don’t follow?”
“The bet,” Devi clarifies.
Ben scuffs his shoe against the parking lot pavement. “Ah.”
“Since neither of us kissed anyone, that is.”
Ben nods his head, slightly jerkily. “Right,” he agrees. “Well, that’s that then.”
He turns away from her to make his leave, only managing a few steps before Devi speaks again.
“But the night isn’t over.”
Ben turns back to her, blue eyes flashing. “What?”
Devi tugs at the hem of her shirt sleeve. “The night isn’t over,” she repeats, and good god, she has no idea what prompts her to say it, she really is insanely impulsive, Ben is right about that.
(Ben is always right about her. Everything he says holds a mirror up to her and forces her to see herself as she truly is.)
Ben steps back towards her and quirks an eyebrow. “And?”
Devi twists her hands together, her heart doing an impressive amount of acrobatics as Ben steps closer, encroaching upon her personal space. “I was just thinking,” she starts, “there still might be a way for us both to win the bet.”
Ben huffs out a laugh, and he is standing so close, Devi can feel a puff of warm air against her face. “Oh?” he asks. “And what exactly is that?”
Devi doesn’t dignify Ben’s response with words, instead she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and tugs him into a kiss.
She’s more experienced now, she has a much better idea of what to do with her hands, raking one through Ben’s hair, curling the other around his neck. She has a better idea what to do with her mouth too, tilting her head so their lips slot together perfectly.
Ben immediately kisses her back, hands grasping at her hips as he tugs her closer, so she is flush against him, drawing a needy sound from high in her throat. He kisses her with intent and like it is his purpose, like Ben Gross was placed on this Earth solely to kiss Devi Vishwakumar breathless. He smells like sandalwood from his fancy cologne mixed with musk that she cannot name, but knows is distinctly Ben. He teases her lips with the seam of his tongue, and when she parts her lips for him he licks his way into her mouth. Suddenly Ben Gross’ tongue is in her mouth, and it is somehow both everything and nothing like she remembered.
And oh god.
The way he is kissing her right now makes her weak in the knees, and she thinks she would surely collapse if not for Ben’s hands which are gripping her tight, one still clutching her hip, and the other is resting against her back, palm spread wide.
Suddenly, air becomes a pathetic necessity as she is forced to draw away from Ben, breathing heavily.
Ben’s eyes are wide, pupils dilated, his entire face is flushed, and he is breathing heavily. His hair is ruffled and his shirt slightly rumpled and she did that.
She’s known Ben for much of her life, so she’s seen many versions of him, snarky Ben, asshole Ben, caring, considerate, and sweet Ben, Ben who secretly carries a heart of gold. But she decides then, as she takes in Ben’s current state, that a Ben who she has just kissed breathless—who has kissed her breathless in turn—is her favourite one of all.
Devi takes a moment to catch her breath. It’s been a long time since she’s been kissed like that .
(She has never been kissed like that.)
“So,” she finally says, voice still coming out a little breathless, “I guess we both win the bet.”
Ben’s eyes twinkle like stars plucked from the night sky. “I guess so,” he agrees.
She watches Ben lick his lips, and god she kind of wants to kiss him again. Tension builds between them like the moment before a thunderstorm.
But she can’t do that. She likes Des, kissing Ben like that was just a way to brush off the cobwebs surrounding her heart, give herself more necessary game.
Desperate to dissipate the tension, Devi bumps her shoulder against Ben’s. “Later, Gross.”
Ben clears his throat. “Later, David.”
Devi turns on her heel and begins to walk away.
She only makes it ten paces before she turns back to find Ben, who has not moved at all, looking straight at her, with a wistful, longing look coating his face.
Her stomach twists itself into knots once more, her heart begins to race a marathon, and she realizes she is completely and utterly fucked.