“Hi there.” He chuckles at me.
“Oh my gosh! What time is it?” I sit up straight, blinking my eyes focused at the clock on my nightstand. It’s only five, dinner isn’t for another two hours.
“Don’t worry, you still have time. I just couldn’t wait to see you.” A shy, crooked smile peeks out as he reaches his hand out to help me stand.
He gently pulls me to my feet and I’m filled with instant regret as I brace for his reaction to the state of my loft. I glance around quickly but don’t see the mayhem I had caused earlier. Everything is picked up, thrown into boxes, and set-up neatly, like they were packed that way intentionally. My purse has even been set back on my bed and zipped closed.
Did I hallucinate my freak out?
“Uhh—I thought it was messier in here?” I say to myself as I look around the loft.
“Well, itdidlook like a tornado hit for a minute, but I just threw everything in those boxes.” He gestures to the boxes along the wall. “I hope that’s okay?” he asks, rubbing his jaw, probably worried he may have crossed a line bycleaningfor me. God, how was he so perfect?
“That was way too kind of you . . . Thank you.” I reach around his waist and hug him tight against me—soaking in the experience that is, without a doubt, affecting my brain.
“These are for you.” He kisses my head and hands me the bouquet of flowers—white, orange, yellow, and hints of burgundy flowers all wrapped in a little pumpkin ribbon. “I couldn’t help myself,” he says into my hair as he inhales, long and slow.
“They’re beautiful, ugh. You’re beautiful!” I say looking up at him, drooling over his freshly cleaned-up look.
“Me? Stahp.” He dramatically waves his hand at me. “You’re making me blushhh.”
I giggle and wrap my arms around his neck, the flowers in my hand hitting his shoulder as I bring his face down to mine. He kisses me, deeply and passionately. For a moment I lose track of all space and time, letting my knees buckle ever so slightly. His grip around my waist tightens and pulls me closer, his hands splayed across my lower back. His lips move across mine, then to my cheek, down my neck and shoulder.
Then it stops.
Benny takes two giant steps backward and almost trips over my bed.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him, feeling lightheaded and out of breath.
He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. “I want to be a gentleman.”
I stare at him confused. “These were very gentleman-like,” I joke, waving the flowers at him.
He lets out a long slow breath, “I—umm—don’t know if I should kiss you the way I reallywantto . . . in your bedroom.” He looks down at his feet, his face bright red.
“Ah, I see . . .” I say, staring at the bed behind him. Heat rushes through me, making my every part of me feel light. I am suddenly desperate for a drink of water.Thatphysical aspect of our relationship hadn’t crossed my mind . . . until now. I felt dizzy at the thought. I blink the thoughts out of my mind and focus on the strained look plastered on Benny’s face. “I appreciate your self-control.”
“It’s not easy.” His face relaxes a tiny bit as I giggle at him.
We stand there, awkward and tense, looking at practically anything but each other. The same heated thoughts running through our minds.
“So!” we both say in unison.
“What happened in here?” He shifts his eyes around the loft as he sits back on the edge of my bed.
“Where?” I ask sarcastically. I really don’t want to address the chaos he walked into.
He raises his dark eyebrow at me, a smile crinkling his eyes as he tries to hold his gaze.
“Alright, I won’t ask. But just so you know . . .” He pauses for effect. “I’ve seen worse.” He smirks and we both laugh. He respects my boundaries and doesn’t press for any more information and I’m grateful.
“Oh, really now?” I chuckle as I go to set my flowers on the bedside table.
“Oh yeah. Frankie got into a bag of catnip treats once. I had to replace my couch.” He belly laughs at the memory and I join. The thought of that cat doing anything that isn’t eating or napping is laughable.
We spend the next hour laughing and talking, and I refuse to get ready for dinner until the last possible minute. The entire time leading up to dinner, Benny never once pressures me for information about Liam or our history, and he doesn’t give any indication that he is nervous or uncomfortable. It’s a new side of a relationship I haven’t experienced before.
A healthy side.
