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  I shake my head and find the courage to turn and look him in the eye. "Don't ever shout at me like that again," I whisper, out of breath.

  "Never, I promise." He pulls me toward him and hugs me tight, for no reason.

  I do the one thing I shouldn't: I hug him back and slide my hands down to his waist, lean my head on his chest, and breathe in deeply, taking in his scent. He smells of shower gel and fabric softener.

  What's got into me? Could I have had a worse idea?

  "So, I guess I won't be taking this skirt to Tampa?" I say ironically, breaking the interminable silence.

  He bursts out laughing and tightens his grip on my back. "Only if you want to see me in jail."

  He lifts my head off his chest and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The butterflies, the ones I thought were dead and buried, flutter in my tummy, spreading their wings as they fly upward and settle on my heart, making it beat even faster.

  My God! I want to kiss him so bad and just the thought messes with my head more than before.

  "Er…we should go back inside." My words are uncertain, mostly because the last thing I want to do right now is go back inside. What I want to do is drag him over to the car and straddle him, tear off his shirt, and rip open his jeans. Shit, I want him to tear my thong off and fuck me, right here, in the Blue Rock parking lot, as the cars drive past.

  "I guess so… but keep looking at me like that, I'll forget all about the concert and take you away."

  My breath is stuck in my throat. It's like I've forgotten how to pump air in my lungs. How am I looking at him? Like a pervert, probably. Perhaps he can read my mind and knows I want to touch him, undress him, feel him inside me.

  I clear my throat loudly. "First the concert." My eyes open wide and so do his. "I mean, first the concert then take me...away, I mean. Only the concert, then you can take me home...since I came here with you, in your car...not take me away...like you always do, after the concert..." I'm talking nonsense and his cocky grin does nothing to help the situation. Still smiling, he runs a hand through his hair and scratches his head.

  He points to the entrance to the club and I wind up my pathetic little cabaret show and head for the door. Without looking around, my heart racing, my legs like jelly, I make my way over to our table and sit down between Jess and Erika.

  "Keep an eye on her." Ben’s right behind me. I thought he'd gone over to the stage, I didn't realize he was following me. My cheeks catch fire and I glance over at Erika, hoping she's busy with her cell, as usual, but she's watching me, her eyebrows creased in a frown, her lips pouting.

  She kindly avoids asking any embarrassing questions in front of Jessica, but I already know I'll get the third degree as soon as we're alone.

  How’d I wind up here again?

  It's like I'm always getting blood on my hands.

  Ben's voice rings out from the speakers. I heard them say in the car they were going to start with “Tell Me Why” by Three Days Grace, so I guess it’s this one. Although Ben has revolutionized my iPhone by uploading lots of rock music, I'm still tied to my pop roots and proud of it.

  Just hearing his voice turns me on, but I'm not listening to the songs, I'm listening to him. He could sing the phone book and I wouldn't be able to tell the difference. He closes his eyes for a moment, focusing on the words, then strums his guitar and smiles, a relaxed, sweet smile that I only ever see when he's on stage.

  "Are you sharing with me in Tampa?" Erika asks, rousing me from my daydreams.

  "Yes, of course. Who else would I share with?"

  "Mark, for example." She puts an index finger on her lips and pretends to think. "Or perhaps with his brother." She grins and cocks an eyebrow, then makes a face which makes me laugh.

  "Why not! Why don't I share a room with both of them while we're at it?" I joke.

  "Mark would be down for that!"

  We both laugh. She's right, who knows where Mark would draw the line. Erika pauses, hoping I'm going to give her some spicy gossip, but I don't. I make a mental note to speak with Mark first and it scares me already.

  "I see you and Ben are getting pretty close."

  "Why? What do you mean?" I do my best 'head in the clouds and welcome to my world' act and hope she buys it.

  She laughs out loud. Nope, she didn't. "You study together every afternoon, you come with him in his car to the club every Friday...he saves you from hot but creepy waiters, he drags you out of the club, hand in hand..."

  "You saw us?" I look down, staring at my fingers in embarrassment.

  "I saw Rick with his arms around you and know what an ass he can be. I was coming over but Ben beat me to it..."

  "He was just being protective," I say defensively and Erika raises her hands in surrender.

  "Not judging." She smiles and then whispers in my ear so no one else can hear. "Just lately he's been asking a lot of questions about you and that's not like Ben." She straightens up, bites her bottom lip. The look in her eyes says, 'I don't need to add anything else.'

  Oh, yes, you do!

  My hands on my hips, I look her straight in the eye and without hesitating ask, "So, what is like Ben?"

  "Sleep with Casey and not giving a damn what others think, is like Ben. Asking questions about a girl who’s part of the group of the closest friends he has, is not."

  Sleep with Casey. I roll my eyes.

  "You make it seem like there's something to it," I reply, reaching for my Coke then sitting stiffly on my seat.

  "The only other time I've seen him like this was with Maddy." Her smile grows wider and she wiggles her eyebrows up and down a couple of times suggestively.

  I've heard that name before, but I can't put a face to it. Just how many girls does Ben have in his life? "Who's Maddy?"

  Erika looks at me like I'm stupid, as if the answer is so easy it’s not even worth giving. "Maddy, the girl who owns our house, Maddy. Didn't Mark tell you about her and Ben?"

  Why does everyone automatically think that all Mark and I do when we're together is talk about Ben? We must have spoken about him three times since we met. Mark's favorite subject is hardly his brother and there's no way I'm going to question him.

  But I'm more curious than annoyed and can't stop myself. "No! What happened?" I lean forward, resting my elbow on the table, my chin propped in my hand.

  "Jessica and Ben moved here three years ago. Jessica moved in here and Ben rented the house next door. Long story short, Ben was in love with Maddy but, because she was in her third year, so a junior, she wanted to keep the whole thing secret. Last year though, Ben found out that Maddy was actually engaged to a guy from Chicago and that was why she didn't want anyone knowing about them. He went crazy, they had a terrible fight, and since that day he's been different. He just clammed up and for a long time he was like a hermit, or like he'd been hit by a train."

  I can't imagine Ben broken-hearted, love-sick for another woman. Shouldn't it be the other way around? These hot, American guys, all muscles and attitude, breaking hearts and shattering the dreams of poor young girls? Apparently the Carter boys like older women who don't share their feelings. "Then what happened?" I don't even realize I've missed the band's second song.

  "He stopped coming over, from one day to the next he cut her off, started hanging out with other girls, a lot of other girls, but there was no more talk of girlfriends. That's why it's strange to see him like that with you. The only other times I've seen him worry about a girl was with Maddy."

  I feel a hole forming in my stomach. Erika watches me, as if she's expecting me to confess something, but I don't know what to say. I don't know Ben well enough to know if he's interested in me just for a quickie or if he really likes me, which is what Erika is implying. The fact is, I'm not right for him. I'll grow out of my crush, this amazing year will end and I'll go home, possibly back to my boyfriend, and I'll carry on with my life, regardless of Ben.

  I try to focus on the music again. I know this song, it's one of the few so
ngs Ben recommended that I actually like. It's “Angels Fall”, or something like that, by his favorite band, Breaking Benjamin.

  His eyes meet mine for a couple of seconds and he winks.

  I sigh and nibble on one of my fingernails. I felt better when I thought he was some kind of Casanova. I still desperately wanted to have 'wild-and-rough-sexual-intercourses' with him, but it was a fantasy I was able to control, more or less, every now and then, but now I know that underneath the mass of muscles and testosterone, there's a nice guy with a heart, and this messes with my head so much I want to run screaming from the club. It makes him even more dangerous than I thought.

  I'm so consumed by my sense of paranoia, I don't even notice when they sit down at our table.

  I gasp when Mark lifts me up and sets me on his knee. He's one of those guys who's really affectionate and always needs physical contact. I nuzzle my face into his neck and take a deep breath.

  "Hey, Cat. You okay?" he asks, holding me close, softly stroking my back.

  "I'm just a little tired, that's all," I lie. "I had a tough week at school."

  I'm not tired, I'm just torn between doing the right thing and the curiosity of getting to know Ben, of really talking to him, of letting myself go.

  "Do you want to leave?" he asks, his voice low.

  No, I don't.

  Yes, I do.

  I don't know what I want to do.

  I shake my head, then sit up straight and catch my breath. "Can you sleep over tonight? I need to talk."

  "Now I’m worried. Are you sure everything’s okay?" His apprehensive tone makes me smile. I wonder if he'll be quite so understanding when he finds out what's going on – mostly in my head – with Ben.

  "I’m fine, I just need someone to talk to."

  He pushes me back a few inches, then takes my chin between his fingers and examines me suspiciously. "Did that asshole Rick do anything to you?" He raises his voice a little and Ben, whose sitting in front of us, slams his glass down on the table, making us jump.

  His grip around the glass is so tight, his knuckles are white. He glares at me and waits for me to say something, but I don't.

  "Hey, Cat. Look at me." Mark turns my head slightly so he can look me in the eyes.

  "No, no, he didn't do anything," I say quickly, smiling sincerely.

  Ben gets up, his chair screeching as he pushes it back, and he strides over to Ron at the bar. Mark follows him with his eyes but remains seated.

  "I just want to chat. This has nothing to do with Rick. Ben's threats must have worked."

  "No, if anything, Ron fired him." He ruffles my hair and leans forward and takes a sip of his drink.

  Fired? For groping my ass?

  "Really?" I ask, hardly able to believe it.

  "Yeah. Rick's an asshole and Ron knows it's better to stay in good with my brother. The college bands that play here Friday night bring in boatloads of money and if word got around that one of the waiters at the Blue Rock was a creep then everyone would stop coming. Your ass was the straw that broke the camel's back. I don't blame him, though. You have a real cute ass!"

  He pulls me in a little tighter and leans his head on my shoulder.

  I'm still thinking about what he said when Ben comes back, picks up his things, and interrupts Mark, who's now chatting with Kris. They're talking about cars, tits, and asses. Kris's girlfriend, Abby, isn't here tonight so he's going overboard on vulgar comments about one of the girls in his class.

  I don't get these guys: Abby is breathtakingly pretty. When she enters a room, all eyes are on her and her boyfriend is now bragging, in front of all her friends, about some slut in his IT class who’s shamelessly been coming onto him. Of course, Mark is all ears, asking stupid questions, begging for all the intimate details.

  I mentally roll my eyes to heaven.

  "I'm going home. Who's coming?" Ben announces to Mark and me, but he's only looking at his brother.

  Mark's still laughing and Ben's run out of patience. "Mark! You coming or not?"

  "I'll stay here for a while then come home with Jess. Cat's tired, though. You want to go with him?" he asks out loud, then leans in close and whispers, "I won't be long. I'll come over and we can talk, okay?"

  I was hoping he'd forgotten all about our conversation. I'm not so sure I want to talk to him about Ben after all. But, most of all, do I really want to leave with Ben, and be alone with him?

  Yes...No...No...Yes, dammit! Yes!

  "Erika, are you coming, too?" I ask, hoping only half-heartedly that she'll say yes. I'm only asking her to soothe my conscience.

  "No, I'll stay a little longer." She winks at me without anyone seeing and I want to strangle her. Ten minutes ago she was dead tired.

  "So?" Ben's impatient tone irritates me.

  "Yes, I'm coming."

  "Later, Cat-Babe," Mark says goodbye and I leave the club, looking for Ben, who seems to have vanished. He's leaning against the wall, waiting for me. As soon as I see him, my heart plunges toward my stomach.

  His hair is slightly damp with sweat, flattened to his head, with a rebellious tuft that flops down over his forehead. He runs a hand through it and we walk in silence toward his car.

  I've never sat up front before. I've never even been alone in a car with him before.

  "You okay?" he asks when we reach the first red light.

  I catch him staring at my legs before he can look away. What was I thinking at the mall this afternoon? Spending all that money on a scrap of fabric that hardly covers my underwear. If my father saw me in this skirt he'd lock me away in a convent and if Leonardo saw me he'd make such a scene that it would go down in history.

  Leonardo. My boyfriend. Handsome, polite, romantic, affectionate, Leonardo.

  Hold that thought!, a cheeky little voice whispers in my head.

  "I'm just a little tired."

  "Ron fired Rick’s ass, he just confirmed it." I stiffen at Ben's dry, detached tone.

  "Because he touched my ass?" I ask sarcastically.

  Ben hits the brake, throwing me forward in my seat. "Obviously because he touched your ass! Where the fuck do you live?"

  He's angry again, shouting in my face, and I lose it. I can’t help myself. Without even stopping to think, I unfasten my seat belt and get out of the Mustang. My instinct takes over and I know I don't want to be in the car with him if he's going to brake in the middle of the road, or shout and offend me. He can do that with Casey or Jessica or Maddy or whoever, but not with me!

  "Where the hell are you going?" He sounds shocked.

  He pulls over to the side of the road. I've no idea where I'm going, I just keep walking and fast.

  I hear him open the door and get out of the car. "Go away!" I yell without turning around.

  "Blondie, come here!" Three strides and he catches up with me. "What's wrong with you?"

  "I told you not to shout at me. I'm not one of your girlfriends and I don't care if you're pissed off or think I’m clueless." I point my finger at him and he takes a step back, raising his hands. "If you dare raise your voice to me again, I'll kick your ass." I'm so serious I believe it, too.

  "I didn't raise my voice!" he protests, shouting again.

  "Bye, Ben." I push past him, lightly shoving him on the shoulder. Who does he think he is?

  "Caterina." Hearing him say my full name makes me quiver with excitement. How the hell does he do it? "We're in the middle of the road. Get in or I'll put you over my shoulder and put you in the car myself."

  I stiffen, but continue walking. "Go home, Ben."

  I hear his footsteps on the sidewalk then, a second later, I feel myself being swung through the air. I try to kick out, but he blocks my legs with an arm and strides over to the car with me slung over his shoulder, as if I weigh nothing.

  "Put me down! Now!" I yell, trying to break free, even if the idea of falling from this height isn't very thrilling.

  He swings me down onto the hood of his Mustang and pushes his way be
tween my legs. I instinctively arch my back to put distance between us but he leans in toward me.

  "What the fuck’s got into you? We're in the middle of the freakin’ road!" He's furious but at least he’s not shouting.

  "If you behave like an asshole then get ready for the same treatment." Oh, yes, that seems like a good pathetic answer.

  Ben pulls back and bites down on his bottom lip. "I was worried, okay? Then you look at me like I'm the bad guy because I got Rick fired. Shit, Blondie! His lousy hands were all over you. He should be thankful I didn't kill him!"

  The look on his face is demonic and he closes his eyes for a couple of seconds, panting, throwing out all the air in his lungs. I want to touch his face, but hold back, thank God. When he opens his eyes, the devil he was trying to control has disappeared.

  I can't say anything, I'm speechless. All I can think of are my legs spread wide on the hood of the car, Ben's body between them. "I'll be more careful next time, I promise." I don't want him to get into fights or worse trouble because of me and my miniskirts.

  "Look, it's not your fault. You can dress how you like, but no one has the right to touch you without your permission, period."

  The situation is paradoxical and I can't help laughing as I raise an eyebrow.

  "What?" he asks. He really doesn't see.

  I look down at my wide open legs, his body wedged between them, then down at the sidewalk where he just picked me up, without my permission.

  He puts his hands on my knees and lowers his head, laughing. Then he pulls away and gently pushes my legs together until my knees are touching. "I won't ever touch you again without your permission."

  He holds his hand out and I hesitate before taking it because I'm all too aware of the effect his fingers have on me. For a second my hand makes a fist, then I grab his cold hand and a rush of adrenaline courses through me. He helps me down off the hood while, with my free hand, I pull down my skirt, which is now practically wrapped around my waist.

  Ben doesn't move, however, and once more my body is too close for comfort. He watches as I smooth the soft fabric of the skirt and we both look up at the same time.