“I could say the same about you.”
“Ha.” She shakes her head. “You don’t consume my thoughts.”
I reach for her, dragging her closer by her shoulders. “How can I change that?”
Her breath catches when my thumbs press into the base of her neck. She doesn’t pull away; instead, her body loosens under my touch. Her pulse beats fast against my fingers.
I focus on that, the rhythm and warmth with the way she’s always tense around me until she forgets she’s supposed to be.
“God, you’re annoying,” she mutters softly.
“That’s your gratitude?”
“For what?”
I squeeze gently. “For fixing your posture.”
She groans, leaning forward a little. “You’re bossy even when you’re pretending to help.”
“Who says I’m pretending?”
Her head dips as I work her muscles again. She sighs without meaning to, like she hates that it feels good. Her hair brushes my hands, smelling faintly like vanilla mixed with something musky.
“Have you ever heard of this thing called quiet, Benedikt?”
“From time to time.”
“Let’s practice that while I go through your phone.”
I bob my head, giving her the space she wants, but after a few seconds, I can’t help but comment, “Bold move.”
“Not really. You probably have some secret folder labeled Do Not Touch.”
I smirk. “You’d be surprised.”
She turns around to face me fully, eyes narrowing like she’s already planning it. “You don’t seem like someone who uses passcodes.”
“I use them because I don’t like people touching my things.”
Her smile tilts. “So, youdohave secret things in here.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t tease me, Ben. I’d love to uncover your love for Pokémon cards or something else crazy.”
I can’t tell if she’s not just joking anymore. If she wants to see something real about me.
“You think my phone’s where the truth lives?”
She shrugs. “It’s where everyone hides things.”
“That’s your first mistake.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t hide things in plain sight.”
That makes her lips part. She studies me, her eyes searching like she’s trying to figure out whether that’s a confession or a warning.
