Yet.
“I can look into him,” Noah offered.
Benji grimaced instinctively. “No, don’t. Trust me, it’s better if we ignore him. Whatever bullshit he’s talked himself into, he can’t actually take Max away. I have custody.”
And no judge would ever consider giving him back, Benji added privately.No matter how nice his clothes are now. No matter how many “morals” he supposedly picked up while selling stolen cars and not calling his kids for literal years.
His fists clenched in the nice slacks Noah got him. He didn't want to think about his dad. But that left him with the other elephant in the room, infinitely bigger and with way more potential to torpedo Benji’s life:
Noah had proposed. He’d even sounded like hemeantit, the gorgeous bastard, and now Benji was freaking out for reasons that didn’t have anything to do with his deadbeat dad or Dillion’s sabotage attempt.
“Benjamin,” Noah said. “You’re hyperventilating.”
Huh. Benjiwashyperventilating. He’d never done that before. It felt horrible.
Benjamin took his jaw. His tight, steady grip almost made Benji feel okay again. Then Noah’s thumb accidentally brushed the edge of the healing bruise on his cheek, left there by Noah’s asshole brother, and all the dumb life drama came crashing back.
“What do you need?” Noah asked.
Benjamin squeezed his eyes shut.
“Talk,” he gritted.
He was suddenly terrified that Noah would ask why Benji didn’t say anything to his proposal. Or why his family was sucha trainwreck. But Noah’s voice was calm and patient as he talked Benji down.
“Your painting was beautiful,” Noah said. “Mrs. Presley loved it. I would even let her buy it if you want me to. Otherwise, I would want to hang it in our bedroom.”
Benji scoffed through his panicked breaths, fixing Noah with a stare that let him know how much thatwasn’thappening.
“Alright,” Noah said easily. “I’ll let Mrs. Presley know she can bid for it.”
There’s no bidding; it’s a shitty community college art show, Benji thought. But he let Noah talk, telling him about other art pieces he liked and how fast Tia and Daphne bonded and how the wine reminded him of a bottle he’d had at a winery in Italy in his teens, and eventually Benji could breathe normally again.
Benji sagged against the car seat. “Why did you ask me that? Before Chet showed up.”
Noah paused. Benji had caught him in the middle of a story about Tia’s fashion choices in college, which were apparently just as sparkly as she was now.
“I couldn’t help it,” Noah said, his eyes unbearably soft. “It just slipped out.”
Benji swallowed. He had been expecting Noah to say he got carried away and for Benji to ignore it. For them to sweep it under the rug. He wasn’t expecting Noah todouble downon wanting to marry some twenty-year-old college student he’d known for less than six months.
“Why?” Benji croaked. “The painting’s notthatgood.”
“It wasn’t the painting,” Noah said. “Well. Notjustthe painting. It was what the painting meant. The fact that you felt comfortable showing me, let alone displaying it publicly like that.”
Benji shivered, half-pleasure, half-mortification. He still couldn’t believe he let peopleseethat. It felt like he’d strippednaked—not from his clothes, but from hisskin—and people could see all the bones and sinew and embarrassing needs he always tried to hide.
“Do you take it back?” he whispered.
Noah hesitated. But it wasn’t the hesitation of a man with regrets; it was the hesitation of a man who didn’t know how his words would be received.
“No,” Noah admitted. “I don’t.”
Benji knew what he should do. He should throw himself into Noah’s arms, shower him with kisses, and get teary, grateful, and disbelieving. So far, he was just disbelieving. Everything else was pure panic and a stubborn spark of excitement that made him nauseous.
He couldn’tmarryNoah. Even the idea was ridiculous. Benji was a sugar baby, and a shitty one at that. He wasn’thusbandmaterial. Noah would see that. He had to see that. This was just momentary insanity because of the painting, and then he’d apologize and take it back properly, and?—
“Benjamin,” Noah said. “You’re hyperventilating again.”
