Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Four episodes in and four grotesque murders solved later, a knock sounds on my door.
As if knowing I am a slovenly sloth tonight, Eden answers it. “Oh.” She startles. “I thought you might be Austin. Come in.”
Before I even exert effort to look, I hear him.
“Oh my God, not the Hello Kitty blanket,” Ben says like I’m in dire straits wrapped up in the hot pink fabric. The smile in his voice has an instant effect on me.
I almost smile back. “Don’t knock my emotional support blanket, Friend.”
“I’m only jealous you’re under there without me.” He places a slim red vase of beautiful, perky sunflowers on the end table beside my dirty ramen bowl. No one has ever given me flowers until him. Let alone the many vibrant green plants he’s bestowed upon my apartment. I hear Eden’s bedroom door shutting.
Ben skims my couch-potato state.
I’m not even embarrassed. This sinking, weighted feeling overshadows even the ability to be mortified. And what’s so humiliating about Ben seeing my sadness? When, really, all I want is for someone to help take it away?
Ben towers. “I know I showed up unannounced, so if you want me to go, now’s the time to tell me, Fisher.” My last name rushes in a wave of grief I haven’t felt before. I love my name. I don’t ever want to hate it.
I swallow a lump. “Not afraid of jump-scaring me with your presence anymore?”
“A little scared. Still took the risk.” He’s drawing my gaze to his. “Did it pan out?”
I nod vigorously, tears pricking my eyes. “I’m really glad you’re here,” I say as my voice breaks.
Immediately, Ben has his arms around me. He’s scooping me up, cradling me while he sinks onto the couch. He brings me into his chest in an epic, consoling hug like he’s the god of solace. I bury my face into the crook of his arm, choking on a sob.
We’re both tangled in the Hello Kitty blanket, and I don’t really care. He plants tender kisses on my head, on my cheek, on my lips, and I ease with each one. Ten minutes pass before I’m able to release what happened into the air.
He is pissed at my dad. When I tell Ben I said “fuck you” to him, he nods a lot in relief, and it makes me feel really good. Still, there is a sense of loss I can’t thwart. My cinematic reunion with my dad in my white coat, with my M.D., with his love and pride for me—it’s been demolished.
He will never love me or be proud of me. I want to not care. Why should I even waste tears on him?
“You might want to let go of me,” I warn Ben, wiping the creases of my eyes while he uses the bottom of his shirt to dry my chin.
“Why?” he asks.
“I might just decay on you. I was becoming one with the couch before you showed up.”
“You weren’t doing a very good job.”
I snort out a surprised laugh. “What?” I squeak out.
His lips inch higher. “Yeah, you’re still a lot cuter than the couch, Fisher.” He pauses when he notices me wince at Fisher. “I can stop using your last name—”
“No,” I interject. “Please, please don’t. I love my last name, and it’s mine. He doesn’t get to take that from me.”
Light touches his blue eyes. “Okay, Fisher. And I’m not letting go of you. So I have to warn you, we will be decaying on this couch together.”
My heart swells so much, I’m shocked it’s not bursting out of my ribcage. I blink away more tears. “You make it impossible,” I realize.
“What impossible?”
“To rot away.” I hold his deepening gaze that reaches into me. He seems to be gripping onto my expression, his chest falling and rising in time with mine. “How long have you been the sun?”
He cups my cheek. “I’m not the sun.”
“You are, Ben. Life can’t wither and die when you’re around. Nothing can go cold. Out of an entire Empire of stars, you’re the brightest in the sky.”
He smiles a little.
“What?” I sit up higher on his lap, our faces closer.
“I just know something that you don’t, smarty-pants,” he says as his gaze strokes mine. “The sun isn’t the brightest star. It’s not even the hottest, but I still burn.” His thumb caresses my cheek. “Because I’m mad. Maddened for those I love. Maddened by their pain. Maddened by life. Your agony is my plight. Your torment, my war. Your love, my triumph. I don’t know how to dim when I love you, Harriet. I only know how to burn bright.”
49
HARRIET FISHER
Isprint across the grassy quad, taking every shortcut known to man. My bookbag thwacks my back, and I just think, I’m late, I’m late, I’m already late. I’d rather be fifteen minutes late to Professor Wellington’s oral exam than three minutes late to meet Ben’s parents.