On an Edge of Glass

sex with you, but I like you a lot.  A lot.  And I was afraid that what’s happening between us would become one of those strictly friends-with-benefits arrangements, and that’s not what I want.”  He pauses, tucking his hair back behind his ears. 
    I feel like I’ve been in a pitch black room and someone just flipped on a light.  I blink, but everything is still blurry and out of focus.  “You don’t?”
    Ben moves his head slowly from side to side.  “Maybe you don’t want to have any claim on me but…”
                  “But what?” I ask.  My heart is tapping faster now.
                  He winces, looks down.  “But nothing.  Never mind.”
                  I reach out and touch the tips of his fingers and I say, “Please tell me.”
                  “I don’t know…”  He takes a tight breath and holds it in his lungs.  His eyes scan my bedroom like he’s seeking out his thoughts from the shadows. “It’s just that you do.”
                  Now I’m the one dragging his chin up so that I can see into those brown eyes.  Ben has gotten embarrassed on me—biting his bottom lip and ducking his head so that his hair blocks his face.  He has one hand splayed on the floor, fingers pressing into the threads of my green rug. 
    I lean in.  “What?  It’s just that I do what ?”
                  “Have a claim on me,” he whispers.
                  Something surges from deep inside of me.  Something that terrifies me.  Something that feels an awful lot like the sun exploding. 
    “Oh,” I say.  Just like that.  Like his words didn’t slam me sideways and cause an entire garden of flowers to bloom in my chest. 
                  The corners of Ben’s mouth fall.  His eyes are raw, fragile.  From the looks of it, he’s ready to get up and walk out of my room.  Probably for good.  And I don’t blame him. 
                  I’m not entirely sure, but I think I might be an idiot when it comes to dealing with guys.
                  Ben stands to go and my heart lurches against my ribcage.
    I rise to my knees.  “Wait!” 
    H e stops, his hands resting on his thighs, and turns to me.  His face is a roadmap of strange, crooked lines and I want to follow them all. 
    “ Ben, I’m a moron, okay?  I like you too.  I like that you have just one dimple instead of two.  And I like the way you can make me laugh about nothing.  I like your uneven eyebrows, and your music, and your scruffy chin.  I like that you can cook actual food—not just macaroni and powdered cheese.  And that you talk about your little brothers and your mom.  I like you like you.  And you were right—I was jealous of that girl this afternoon.  I know it’s stupid, but I was so jealous that I could hardly breathe.”
    He moves.   There’s a confused moment—one of reaching and awkward angles and limbs tangling—and then our lips are pressed together and there’s so much heat rippling through the collision that I sway. 
    Ben half-carries me backward and lowers me to the bed with his right arm braced behind my shoulders.  I am pulling frantically at his clothes—at the tiny buttons of his shirt and the stubborn zipper of his pants.  He captures my hands and stills them between us. 
    “I want to be with you Ellie,” he says pensively, his loose hair tickling my face.   “I—I want you so much that I think I’m going a little bit crazy.”
    I arc my back so that our bodies touch everywhere.  He gasps and rolls me over. 
    “I want to be with you too.  In every way,” I reply, gently tracing his jaw with the tip of my tongue.
    Ben closes his eyes and shudders.  He swallows and I watch the hard movement of his throat.  I kiss him there. 
    “ Are you sure?” He asks.  “Do you trust me?”
    I touch the side of his face.  I kiss him lightly just below his chin.  My voice is a frothy light bubble.  “I trust you.”
    And then there are no more words between us—just the sounds of clothes being peeled and tossed to the floor, and gasping breaths, and small noises of pleasure when hands and mouths find new, uncharted places.  Never breaking the rhythm that we’ve fallen into, Ben slides the thin straps of my bra from my shoulder.  He kisses the bare skin there and cups my breasts in his palms.  Wrapping his arm around my back, he lifts me so that he