Nothing matched and yet everything fit. It suited him perfectly.
Then we were upstairs and Benny was telling me he didn’t use most of the space, but when he’d bought this place, he’d done so with the intention it would be his forever home, and it was ready for whatever life gave him.
One bedroom had been converted to a home gym, then there were two guest rooms, and an office filled with dust and excess gym equipment. There was a huge bathtub in the upstairs bathroom, definitely big enough for more than one person—a fact my brain was noting and storing away for future reference.
“Where’s your room?” I asked him when he turned to head back downstairs.
He chewed his lip and gestured to the only door that was closed. I stepped toward it.
Benny’s hand rested on my shoulder to stop me. “I’ll show you after dinner.”
“Why not now?”
“Because. Now come, food is almost ready.”
He was definitely up to something. But I’d let him keep his secrets… for now.
We made our way back down to the kitchen, where he’d already started cooking.
“What are you making?”
“Braised short ribs with mashed potatoes,” he told me and I nodded.
Benny took two beers from the fridge, opened them, and handed one to me. I took a sip.
“You don’t like beer?” He chuckled, apparently reading that from my expression.
“It’s fine.” The only time I’d had beer was with the Strays. It wasn’t something I’d ever buy for myself or drink on my own.
Benny took it back. “What do you like?”
“The beer is fine.” I held my hand out for it, and he pulled it further away.
“I have other things. What do you like?”
I sighed, because I didn’t know what I liked. I drank beer with the Strays because it was what they gave me. I drank the fancy wines provided at the events my family hosted because that’s what was there and what was done. It didn’t bother me, but I didn’t particularly like any of it enough to ask for it. I shrugged.
“Well, let’s find out.” Benny opened his fridge again, this time pulling out a can of rum and Coke. “Have you tried this?”
I shook my head.
He opened it and handed it to me. I took a sip. “It’s… fine?” I went to sip it again, but Benny snatched it off me.
“I can do better than fine.” Back to the fridge.
He pulled out a bottle of soda water, a lime, and a glass, making another drink and handing that one to me too. I didn’t know why he was going to all this trouble. What did it matter what I drank?
I took a sip. It was fizzy and citrusy, flavor zinging over my tongue. I took a bigger sip, and he smiled. “Vodka lime soda. Now you know one thing you like to drink.”
I guess I did.
When dinner was ready, Benny plated it up, then refilled my drink and led us to the living room rather than the dining room like I’d expected.
“What should we watch?” he asked as he flopped down right in the middle.
I sat beside him, our legs pressed together.
“Whatever you want is fine.”
