"All alone I watch you watch her;

 Like she's the only girl you've ever seen

You don't care you never did; 

You don't give a damn about me"

~"i hate you, i love you", gnash

...

Ben wasn’t much of a club person, but he agreed to go with Sherry either way because he felt bad that he’d pretty much ignored her the previous night.

He’d picked her up at her apartment at 7 o’clock so that they could go to dinner before hitting the club. He could tell that she was excited to be out and about with him, she wouldn’t stop smiling.

She wasn’t bad to look at, quite the contrary. With her blonder hair and slightly slanted blue eyes, and curves to go with all that, she was what any other normal guy would want to be seen with. She was curvy in all the right places, and she knew that she drew people’s attention, and obviously relished in being the center of attention, knew how to dress up and to enjoy herself.

So, unlike Elena, Ben thought to himself as he listened to Sherry talking about some coworker who had gotten fired after corporate had found out she was sleeping with her supervisor. He stopped for a second as nearly choked on his drink. One single day, one freaking single day he’d spent with Elena and he was already comparing Sherry to her. He downed another drink as he mentally berated himself for doing that.

Elena is off limits, you idiot, his conscience told him and he willed himself to listen to Sherry. It killed him that he really wanted to be interested in her beyond the physical aspect, but he didn’t even know what she was talking about half the time.

“Come on, Ben, let’s go dance,” she chirped happily as she pulled him to his feet and dragged him out to the dance floor. First of all, he hated that he couldn’t hear anything that she was saying to him afterwards. He could see her mouth moving, but obviously over the sound of whatever the DJ was playing, he heard squat. Second of all, he didn’t particularly like this type of music and wasn’t sure what to do. He tried to follow along with whatever the people around him were doing, but he’d bet $50 that he looked like an idiot. Lastly, he was slowly becoming annoyed at the number of women ogling him as he danced with Sherry. She was either paying no attention or didn’t care that people kept trying to touch him, but he didn’t enjoy it.

This wasn’t his usual scene.

As a boy, he usually spent his time at Caleb’s house in Washington when he lived up there, or with his Nana in Southern California, there was no in- between. As he got older, the lack of love and siblings at home made him spend most of his time with Caleb. His mother was psycho, but his siblings made it worth suffering the dragon. Even if he was an only child himself, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d gained three brothers and a sister in the Dale family.

That Summer between middle school and high school had magically brought a transformation in the two boys and they had both started high school being followed around by girls. Caleb, with his blue eyes and light brown hair, was often confused as Ben’s brother. They were about the same height, same built, even similar personalities.

He'd lost his virginity at fifteen to a Junior girl the following Summer.

He didn’t have any girlfriends through high school, while Caleb dated here and there, but he did have more... friends with benefits. He thought back to the girls whose hearts he had broken because he didn’t want anything beyond what they had already offered. Why buy the whole cow when you can just get the milk?, his father had joked one time when his parents had returned home after dinner and found Ben and a girl groping on the living room couch. His mother, bless her soul, had been furious, while his father had been amused. She had kicked the girl out of the house, warning her to never come back and that she’d find out who her parents were, while his father had stood on the sidelines laughing at the whole scene.

That had ensued in an argument between them, his father blaming his mother for babying Ben and not allowing him to discipline him the way it was needed, while his mother argued that the reason he was going “wild” was because he didn’t care to discipline him at all. At seventeen, after graduation, Ben had finally had enough of the arguments over his life and decided to move out to live with Nana who took him in with open arms. The time between eighteen to thirty was the best time of his life, since all he did was eat, sleep, work and study.

“Ben?”

Ben blinked, snapping back to look at Sherry who was watching him with a confused and hurt look on her face.

“What?”

She said something that he couldn’t hear and he shrugged. She huffed and threw her arms over head, turned and began walking away from him. With a sigh, he followed behind her towards the table they’d been at.

“What’s wrong?” he said loudly over the sound of the music. She turned to him, a hurt look on her face.

“Do I bore you?” she asked him, crossing her arms.

“Why do you think that?” he asked back with a scowl. She rolled her eyes at him.

“Really? It could be perhaps I tried to get your attention out there,” she pointed in the direction of the dance floor, “acting like a damn fool, while you were busy daydreaming about God knows what!”

“I just haven’t been myself lately,” he started, and she nodded.

“No shit," she replied bitterly as she held tongue.

He ran a hand through his hair. This is why he wasn’t into relationships.

“This is not the usual way that I spend my weekends,” he started, “I have no idea what I'm doing here.”

“You’re with me.” She said exasperatedly as she pointed at herself. “If you don’t want to spend your time with me, just say so.” Feeling on the verge of tears, she started making her way out to the front door.

“Sherry!” Freaking hell. This is why he didn’t do relationships. He followed behind her until they left the club. He followed behind her as she stomped her way to the parking garage where he’d parked one block away.

She stopped in front of his car, “I want to go home. Please take me home, I’ve had enough for the night.” She told him and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. He didn’t need this in his life...

Without a word, he unlocked the car, going to the other side and climbing in. Any other time he would’ve opened the door for her, but he was getting tired of everything. They didn’t say anything to each other on the drive to her apartment.

He did get out of the car to walk her upstairs to her apartment, however, considering how late it was.

She opened the door to her apartment and turned to at him.

“I’m angry at you,” she started and he nodded. “And I know I'm stupid and probably bore the hell out of you with my chatter,” he said nothing. “But mostly I am so fucking stupid because I can’t help wanting you,” she concluded and went over to him, grabbing his head and pulling him down to kiss him.

Caught off guard, he let her kiss him. When she pulled back, she looked up at him through teary eyes, face flushed, “And even if I'm not what you want intellectually, I know that at least you want me physically.” She said as she drew him down for another kiss, pleased when his arms came around her.

He shouldn’t be doing this, should just walk away. He would be as much of that bastard he already knew he was if he let himself fall...

“Please, don’t turn me away,” she said through her kisses, her voice wavering. She could feel him hesitating, debating whether to pull away. “I know you don’t even want me, but...”

He shook his head, and caught her in his arms, mouth moving back over hers. With a gasp and cry, she let him kiss her back, stopping only to pull him into her apartment.

...

Her hands were pulling at his shirt as he kicked the door shut behind them, pressing her against the door. She took a shuddering breath as he kissed down her neck, her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of her breast.

He yanked her top off, leaving her shivering for a moment, missing the warmth of his body. He picked her up, kissing her again, as he carried her to her room. She let go of him enough to kick her shoes off, followed by her pants. She reached for his pants in the same movement.

“Fuck!” he muttered, feeling her hands over him. He was moving way too fast and he shouldn’t be doing this at all. She was wide-eyed, probably thinking he was just talking about what they were doing.

She pulled him on to the bed, going over him to straddle him. “I think you’re ridiculously handsome,” she breathed as she reached back to remove her bra. She helped undo the buttons of his t-shirt, dragging it off him as she moved to take off his under shirt. She leaned down to kiss him.

When she sat back up, her hands moved to the buttons of his pants.

She really was a beautiful sight to see, he started as he closed his eyes to catch his bearings for a moment. And regretted it immediately, because the one he saw in the back of his mind was not blonde and was not blue eyed. Panic seized him as he opened his eyes, and felt himself lose interest...

Yeah, he couldn’t do this.

She noticed the change with a confused look on his face. “Did you have too much to drink?” she asked in a concerned voice. Because normally they’d be on the first round, moving on to the second. This was something completely different and odd.

He started to shake his head...

“I’ve got it,” she said as she moved further down the bed, pulling his pants down in the process. Her hands running down his legs, she settled herself between his thighs, giving him a look that he could only describe as dangerous as she bit her lower lip. He panicked as his mind told him to stop being an asshole... Told him to tell her to stop.

“Wait, you don’t have to—” Shit!

...He fucking hated himself.

Absolutely hated himself.

Because the only person who he saw leaning over his middle, hair over his thighs, didn’t have blonde straight hair, but red and wavy...

.

She laid on her side, facing away from him, blanket around her.

Sherry heard him say something, but didn't acknowledge him and pretended that she had fallen asleep. He didn't try to touch her or wake her up, simply sighed.

She heard him shuffle and soon felt the way the mattress lifted slightly as he climbed out of bed. She heard him start dressing himself, mumbling about finding his shoes. It didn't take him too long. 

He was quick. He was a runner.

"Sherry?"

She didn't answer. Not because she didn't hear him, because she did, but because if she turned around, he would see her heart breaking. She refused to break, she refused to let him see how much his attitude was tearing her apart.

He didn't want her any more than she liked herself at that moment. She always hated herself after it was over because she knew that despite whatever his actions were during, he was not the same afterwards. She may be able to push his buttons, to have some control over his body, but she would never have his heart and that’s what killed her.

What was worse was that she knew it wasn't her the person he saw while they did it, it was someone else. There was someone else in his life already and she just knew it wouldn’t be long before she was tossed aside. Something had gone through his head to make him panic earlier. The look he had on his face when she looked at him spelled out panic, he was ready to run out the door. She couldn’t even get him to keep it up without doing other things. 

He wasn’t even interested in her physically anymore. Not without her prodding.

She felt a hot tear slide out on to her pillow.

And when she’d finally glanced up at him as she did her thing, she knew it was not her the person that he was seeing. She knew it wasn’t her the person who he was enjoying in his mind when he closed his eyes. 

"I'll text you later," she heard him say as he walked towards the doorway.

A few moments later, she heard the front door close, and when she finally heard his car turn on and drive off, only then did she let herself cry.

...

He felt like such an asshole. 

He knew he shouldn't have given in, but part of himself told him to not turn her away. He already was angry at himself for hurting her. He didn't want to lead her on and make her think that there would be more, but every time she smiled at him, it hurt him inside.

He cursed, hitting the steering wheel with his hand.

Most of all, he felt like a fucking creep. Why, why did Elena's face have to pop up in his mind when Sherry was climbing all over him? This had never happened before.

Sure, he had his share of women, but he had never imagined someone else when he was with them. Worse of all, he knew that Sherry had sensed that his heart was really not in it. She had been pretending to be asleep when he left her apartment, was probably upset with him. Even if he did text her in the morning, she wouldn't answer his messages and he couldn't blame her.

She should hate him

He knew that he would've hated himself as well.

He did hate himself.

He didn't want to be this way.  He didn't like the lack of control, or the emotional turmoil that came with building a relationship with someone. 

By the time he reached his apartment, he was even more pissed off at himself than before. He pulled of a bottle of wine that had been a gift from a friend and drank half of it before he decided to head to bed.

He couldn't get the image of Sherry crying from his mind...