His grimace was instant, amused and insulted. "Absolutely not. I can guarantee you Michelangelo couldn't have dreamed up what I'm packing."
I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth like he scandalized me.
A lie.
I'd thought about Ben naked more times than I'd ever admit. Even sketched him nude, once or twice.
Boys could glance at a girl and know the general idea. Ben had me pretty figured out from the clothes I wore—decent bust, tiny waist, hips made for grabbing, but girls? What did we get? Shadow and denim.
Unless I wanted to be the first girl in history to beg for a dick pi. Which—ehm, no. Absolutely no.
"That's not what I meant, you idiot," I said, trying to regain composure. "And I said stop it."
"You started it," he shot back, his grin lazy.
"No, you started it. You're saying words like philtrum and making them sound dirty."
He went all faux-innocent. "It's a medical term. Not my fault you're a pervert."
I rolled my eyes. "Anyway—"
"What anyway? I am nothing like David anyway," he cut in, and pulled an affronted face. "I thinkyou'reblind."
He wasn't wrong. His jaw could cut glass and he was wayhotter than David, but the sweetest part was how wounded he got because I didn't compliment him.
"Okay, okay, relax. I'm sorry." I tapped his nose. "But your nose is similar, and you have that elegant and menacing combo."
"Menacing?" He sniffed a laugh, tone giving away he liked that one. "I didn't know you were afraid of me."
"Me? Afraid of you?" I pulled a face. "Please. I saw how you look when you wake up. Too cute."
I don't think he heard a word I said. His hand closed over mine and he lifted it, and tilted it like he was inspecting the fit. Or maybe feeling the pulse that was already thumping too fast.
Then, slowly, he threaded his fingers through mine—and god, we fit. Perfectly.
For a while, we sat there in silence with hands entwined, me keeping my eyes on the little boats rocking on the water, but really just feeling him.
The heat of his palm, the strength of his grip, and how it made me feel absurdly safe, just by existing inside him like that.
The whole time I waited for him to say something. Anything. Like,Do you feel me? How the world bends a little when we touch like this?
But no. Instead, he checked his watch, muttered about prepping for work, and slipped his fingers out of mine before I could trap him there.
The hug he gave after was short, back to that best-friend rhythm, and leaving, he didn't even turn back.
Still, I half-floated home, replaying every second.
It was the first time he'd touched me this way, and Icouldn't for the life of me figure out why he didn't tilt toward a kiss. Maybe in his world, friends held hands?
I started feeling like a hopeful loser, but then, just as I unlocked the door, my phone buzzed.
Ben: What should we name our kids? I want Gia. After my Nonna
I jumped—actually jumped. No chance of playing it cool, I was already typing back.
Me::) I love that. Always wanted a Theo
Ben:Theo with your freckles? Yeah, that works. He'd be perfect
