He pulls a bottle opener from a pocket inside that long robe and opens a beer before passing it to me.
The room is small and quiet. I hear him swallow as I press the beer bottle to my lips.
“How is it?” I ask.
“Good. But then I don’t have ‘normal taste buds,’ right?”
I roll my eyes before taking a sip. “Mm, not bad.”
Do his shoulders slump with relief? Did he really care what I thought of his beer?
“There’s two more in the dryer, but we’ll have to go back out to the party at some point.”
Why?
“Thanks.”
“It’s the least I can do.” He drops his gaze to the beer label.
“So, do you think Nate bought it? Us flirting?” I ask.
“He definitely bought you flirting with me.”
I bump him with my hip. “You’ll have to up your flirting game.”
He scoffs. “I have no idea how to flirt.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
His face is on fire, but I keep probing.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never flirted with anyone?”
“Never.”
When he looks at me, I’m struck by the pure vulnerability in his big brown eyes.
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you how to flirt.”
He smiles shyly before lowering his gaze.
“So, are we going to tell everyone we hooked up at this party?”
Ben starts choking on his beer. I give him a pat on the back until he recovers.
“I don’t think we need to go that far.”
“Why not?”
“Let’s just … say you asked me out or something.”
“Why do I have to ask you out?”
“Because everyone knows I’d never have the guts to ask you.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. Howincredibly sad that a guy as intelligent, impressive and good-looking as Ben wouldn’t have the courage to ask a guy out on a date.
I clear my throat, reminding myself that we’re not really dating, and we need boundaries if we’re going to do this thing—clear boundaries.
