My lips tightened with a hint of amusement, and I picked up my fork. "Is your practice alright? You've been gone a long time."
"Please," he dismissed, going to the counter to make up his own plate. "Rook took three months of maternity leave after Gemma had their baby. The other doctors at our practice take three-week vacations twice a year."
"This isn't exactly a vacation," I muttered, sipping my coffee again.
Benjamin looked at me over his shoulder, his expression soft with humor. "It's been pretty entertaining."
My cheeks warmed, and I ducked into my coffee. He didn't know what he was saying—he probably spoke this way to all the women he slept with. But how didtheysurvive it? Had he left a string of broken hearts behind him without caring for the consequences?
I had a hard time reconciling something that heartless with what I knew about Benjamin. He'd been fiercely protective of me since that first night in Dr. Wells' lab. He'd been generous with his time and gentle with his words. If all that came naturally to him with every lover he'd ever had, then I felt a pang of empathy for every one of them. If they were anything like me, it would take them forever to get over it.Ifthey got over it. Oh, God, would I be able to forget him?
Benjamin ate at the counter, opening cupboards and rifling through the food I had. "We need to make a grocery order. The only thing you have left is dry quinoa and whatever the fuck this is." He reached up and brought down a white box.
I choked on the bite of egg I'd taken. "Wait, Benja?—"
"What isthis?" he asked with incredulous mirth. "Gelatin art?"
"Oh." I let my forehead fall to my palm again. Well, this would make it all the easier for him to dump me and move on—the granny hobby that had been gathering dust since I'd gotten it four Christmases ago.
"Is this aflowerin a cube of Jell-O?" he asked, his features lighting up with savage glee. "Marshmallow. You're holding out on me."
"Put it back," I groaned. "Please."
"They made a frog, look," he said, turning the box so I could see the example photo of a green frog artfully injected into a mound of clear gelatin.
I covered my face. "Benjamin."
"Ooh, you can make it taste like lavender."
I peeked through my fingers. "Are you done mocking me now?"
"Not remotely," he said seriously. His eyes strayed to the box again. "When did you get this? 1972? You look good for your age."
"It was a gift from Nan," I sighed, straightening and giving up on embarrassment. He was clearly intent on seeing this through. "I messed up my first batch of gelatin and gave up on it."
"But you tried," he grinned.
I rolled my eyes. "I did."
"Let's see," he said, rifling through the box and pulling out a packet of instructions yellowed with age. His brows creased with concentration as he read the paper leaning against the counterand took a huge bite of his omelet. He made thinking sounds while he chewed. I kneaded my temples. "Okay, listen, Evelyn." He looked up from the paper gravely, still leaning his elbow on the counter and shoveling in another mouthful of food before saying, "You make a food order on your app. I need to study this."
"You can't be serious." I tapped my fork on my plate.
"Oh, I've never been more serious in my life," he replied without flinching.
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, and I pulled my phone out of my pocket, sighing again. "I hope you're good at chemistry."
"Top of my class," he replied, his eyes back on the faded paper. "I want to make the frog."
"If you can inject dyed gelatin into another blob of gelatin and make a frog, I'll eat my shoe," I smiled.
"How about you eat me instead?" he asked, glancing up with fire in his blue eyes.
I swallowed, suddenly parched. "Or that."
He winked and went back to studying, and my stomach did a double flip up to my ribcage and back down again.Disastrous.
"Put it in slower," I eked out.
