I scanned for this perfect specimen, imagining him skinny, in a shirt with too many buttons, and blabbering about some medical journal no one cared about.
I was wrong.
Instead, he was at the makeshift DJ booth, laughing, spinning tracks, fingers tapping the rhythm like it belonged to him. Black flannel shirt draped off one massive shoulder, funky sunglasses on the slight curve of his Italian nose.
David was right. I liked Ben. Before I even spoke to him. And no, it wasn't just because he was six-foot-four and gorgeous. It was something... intangible.
When David introduced us, Ben slid the shades off, pinned me with those dark eyes and I thoughtoh-my-god, I understand black holes now—how fast they pull you in.
The room erupted with "Ain't Nobody" screaming from the speakers, the crowd bouncing like maniacs.
David disappeared somewhere in the chaos but Ben and Istayed put, just... watching each other.
"Have we met before?" he asked then, leaning in, and I realized how small with my five-foot-three I was in comparison to him.
I shook my head. "No. First time."
"But you seem familiar."
I shrugged, playful. "Maybe I have that kind of face?"
He shook his head slowly. "No. I've seen many faces. Yours is different. There's something different about you."
I gave him a shy look, unsure what he meant by that.
He threw a look over his shoulder, then back at me, one brow up. "David's your boyfriend?"
"Yeah."
"Is it serious?"
I snorted at his bluntness but he didn't flinch—just waited like I owed him an answer.
"Eeeh... I think so," I said and instantly felt like an ass. David and I were pretty serious, but in that moment, it kind of...didn't feel like it?
I know, I know. Still shitty.
Ben didn't say anything, just nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he caught me staring at those ridiculous shades on his head. "You like these?"
I snorted a laugh. "Just trying to figure out if that's your fashion statement or you lost a bet."
"Both," he said and flashed me that smirky-smile, and the song they called a banger? Yeah, it just turned into my personal soundtrack for falling in love.
That night, Ben and I ditched everyone and talked for hours, sitting on the counter beside a fridge cluttered with magnets and greasy takeout menus.
We circled favorite dishes, argued over who made better pasta, and the conversation skipped from one topic to another.
"Aliens?" He flipped the E.T. magnet in his palm.
"Love them, and they're real. Saw a UFO. Would give anything to be on their ship."
"They'd dissect you."
"So what?" I shrugged, pretending to be that bold. "If they take me, I'd volunteer in the name of their science."
He smirked. "Altruistic much?"
"That's a myth."
