On an Edge of Glass

slightly under my weight. 
    Ben looks up at me from the floor.  His eyes are dark in the diffused light.  He frowns and a single line appears between his eyebrows. 
    “I think I need to call it a night,” I say quietly, rocking forward onto my toes.  My breathing is shallow.
    With his eyes still on me, h e shakes his head softly like he’s chasing away a thought.  He says only, “Okay.”
    I feel inexplicably stupid.  I let my feelings get away from me, and now I need them back. 
    I turn and start walking toward my room.  At the corner I have to brace my arm against the wall because my head feels light and dizzy.  I know that I’ve had a lot to drink, but I guess I didn’t realize how much.  Now, it’s hitting me hard.  I close my eyes and start to sway.
    “Whoa , Ellie!”  Ben comes up behind me, slipping his right arm around the indentation of my waist.  He shifts my weight against his side, and draws my head against his chest.  With sure hands, he smoothes my hair back so that it’s off my face. 
      When I open my eyes, he’s watching me.  He’s so close—just a few inches away.  I can feel his warm breath running over my lips. 
    Ben leads me down the hall to my room.  He sets me down awkwardly on the bed so that I’m slouched over some throw pillows. 
    I push the pillows onto the floor and tip back so that I’m flat on my back on top of my green-patterned duvet.  I let my arms trail above me so that my fingertips brush the cool wood of my headboard.  Ben bends down and lifts my legs, gently pulling my socks off one by one.  His fingers are cold, and I curl my toes into ten tight balls.  He chuckles. 
    There are no lights on in my bedroom, but the single bulb in the hall casts a thin silver halo over us.  Even though Ben’s face is a puzzle of grey shadows, I can still make out his eyes.  They are somehow brighter than any other part of him. 
    When h e looks at me this time, I look back and the air between us catches fire.  It’s like all the molecules in the room have been kicked into hyperdrive. 
    Ben shifts his torso forward, his body pressing me further into the mattress.  I hold my breath tightly in my chest, but I don’t break eye contact. 
    Eve ry part of me is trembling.  Too many thoughts are tumbling around in my head.  Like I’m thinking about how this is a bad idea, and how I’ll have to wake up one room down from him for the next seven months, and how I made Payton and Ainsley promise not to do exactly what I’m thinking about doing and that makes me a hypocrite. 
    But then there ’s the fresh soapy smell of him everywhere, and the mesmerizing way that he’s looking at me as if he’s just as hungry as I am.  Ben’s lips open on a soft sigh, and I’m run through.  It’s like an actual physical ache that shatters my bones and my resolve.  I lift my hands to his face.  I hold on, rubbing my palms against the gritty two-day stubble that coats his cheeks.  I’m afraid that letting go will unwind the moment and things will go back to how they were ten seconds ago. 
    Ben blinks.  I smolder.  He blinks again.  Then he leans closer and my body melts to accommodate his.  When his mouth is just an inch away from mine, he pauses.  It’s almost like he’s giving me one final chance to push him away.  I don’t. 
    So, Ben Hamilton kisses me.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Twins
     
     
    “Shhhh!” I whisper harshly into the phone. 
                  Mark chortles.  “Ellie, you just told me that Ben is at class.  I recognize that you want to believe that this guy has superpowers of some sort, but I don’t think he can hear us all the way from a classroom on campus,” he reasons in my ear.
                  Mark is right, of course.  Still, I have my hand cupped protectively over the mouthpiece of my cell phone, and I’m talking to him from inside a sort of tent I’ve made out of my bed covers.  I’m not taking any chances.
                  Typically, the first thing Mark does when I tell him about the kiss is shriek.  Then, he asks for all the juicy details. 
    I’ m trying my best not to sound like a romantic sap, but it’s supremely difficult.  I keep replaying the kiss over and over—Ben bending over me, his hair falling forward to tickle my cheek, my fingers cupping his face.  And then, those soft, perfect lips moving against mine, and his persistent tongue tasting, sucking deliciously.  If I’m