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7 - She Thought He Thought

"Cara, it's not what you think." His hands banged lightly on the door.

I clicked the deadlock, knowing he would hear it.

"Shit! Fuck!"

It seems the rumours of Martin being a bad influence on Ben's vocab are true.

"Cara, please, let me explain."

I didn't answer; I couldn't, I was still too upset. The anger was ebbing and hurt was taking its place, but the hurt was worse - much, much worse. The pain of rejection washed over me and left me shaking in its wake.

"Are you seriously going to make me explain through a closed door?" Yes I bloody am, I wanted to yell but couldn't. I rested my head against it, feeling the little prickle at the back of my eyes that told me tears were not far off.

"Okay, okay." I could almost hear him pacing up and down on the other side of the wooden barrier. "But promise me you'll hear me out; how do I know you're still there?"

I banged once on the door.

"Cara." His voice was lower, with a tender note that had been distinctly absent up until now. "I was sitting in the alcove when you came on to the stage for the last set. You told that joke about the cameras and you looked so...god, that dress...so damned sexy. Then you sang those songs...slow hands and kissing all over and lasting all night. Hell, I was so hard I was too scared to get off my stool in case Bob threw me out for being a pervert."

I made a small noise that I muffled behind my hand.

"When I had myself under control I went to wait in the car but then you were there, talking about sexy beasts...and that kiss...shit, that kiss. I wanted to push you up against the building and take you then and there but...you deserve better than that, much better, so I...I stopped. In the car I couldn't look at you or touch you for fear of losing control all over again."

He paused for a few seconds and I heard him take a deep breath. "I didn't mean it to look like I was rejecting you. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, it's the last thing..."

I opened the door.

"I'm truly sorry Cara." The look in his eyes when he thought he'd hurt me made the tears finally roll down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry too," I whispered.

He took another deep breath. "I want to hold you so badly."

"Then why aren't you?" I looked at him through the tears.

He gave the little smile at the corners of his mouth that I like so much. "Am I allowed in?"

I took a step forward and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him then wrapping my arms around his waist and hugging him just as tightly as he was holding me, my head resting on his chest, my eyes closed. I heard the thumping of his heart and felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of my head as his hands rubbed my back. I sighed, the tension dissipating, and we just stood there holding each other for a while.

"Cara?"

"Yes?"

"Should I always be worried when you call me Benedict?"

I smiled into his chest. "Probably."

"Good to know." I squeezed his waist.

Another few minutes passed.

"Are you still free today?" I nodded. "Fancy going for a drive?"

I looked at him. "In the Jag?" He smiled and nodded. "Can I wear your flat cap?"