A few seconds later Ben was kneeling next to me and had a hand on my back, rubbing it in slow, soothing circles. I was too exhausted to resist and soon the feel of it brought back bad thoughts—me on his lap riding him, him kissing my neck, running his hands over my ba . . . a . . . aaa . . . c . . .
Stop!
I jumped up quickly but something caught my eye. “Aaahhh. Crappin’ hell. What’s that?” A giant rat looked at me before diving back into the drain. “See? It’s not natural for people to be out on the streets at this time.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Ben said, smirking. “So pancakes and coffee at my place then? I make these amazing berry pancakes. I’ve been told they’re unforgettable.”
“Really?” I flashed him a look even though my face felt like it was going to crack. “By whom?” I imagined all the droves of women that had crawled out of his bed or back seat in the morning being made pancakes as they picked their panties up off the floor—if he didn’t steal them and put them in his pocket first.
A gust of wind blew and it felt like a million icy pins piercing my entire body.
“It’s freezing out here, let’s get inside and then we can debate how good my pancakes are.” Ben was off running in the direction of our building. “Last one there’s a rotten egg,” he called over his shoulder. I hadn’t heard that phrase since my sister and I’d played catch in the garden.
I shook my head. This was disastrous. All my attempts at avoidance weren’t working—pancakes? At his place?
15. There’s Nothing Sinister About Batter . . .
I stood outside his door as if crossing the threshold would be like taking a step into a great, unchartered black abyss. This wasn’t as dramatic as it sounded, because it was an abyss of sorts. If I stepped into his apartment, I would be plunging into something that took our relationship fromawkward-boss-with-ex-benefits, toawkward-boss-with-ex-benefits-and-pancakes-together-in-the-morning. There was a very clear difference between the two, eating breakfast together was intimate.
“I think I’m going to go back to my place,” I eventually said.
He unlocked the door and held it open for me like a gentlemen. “Pancakes, Sera. Innocent pancakes. There’s nothing sinister about batter being flung into a pan.”
“Um, I don’t know. It’s all just a bit strange.”
“What is?”
“You and I. Pancakes at your place. In the morning. Before work. After everything that’s happened. It’s just a bit inappropriate.”
“I don’t see anything inappropriate about this, it’s not like I’m inviting you in for sex.”
“What?” All my blood immediately rushed in a southerly direction. “You can’t say stuff like that, Ben!”
“I’m just trying to prove a point. Sex would be inappropriate, pancakes are not.” He smiled, he was clearly amused and enjoying the fact that he had worked me up. “Breakfast, Sera? Breakfast is not even a date meal. People don’t go out on dates to breakfast, it’s just . . .”
“Innocent pancakes?”
“Exactly.”
I rubbed my forehead and I swear I felt an actual sweat bead icicle.
“Please,” he said softly, almost under his breath.
“Why are you doing this? Taking such an . . .” I could barely say the word out loud. “. . . an interest in me? Is it a joke? I mean, are you being serious?”
Ben walked up to me. Close. Too close. “Why you? Are you being serious?”
I nodded.
“Okay . . .” he said moving even closer. Way,waytoo close. He deliberately, and very inappropriately, pressed his body into mine now and I tried to hold down a breathy gasp, but couldn’t manage it. “It may have something to do with the fact that I met the funniest, craziest, sexiest, most beautiful girl at a club the other night. We had such fun dancing together and then we had the best,the best, sex of my life and something about it just felt so different. And then, when I was about to go looking for her, she landed up right in front of me, at work and then next door. And now I can’t help wondering if it’s fate?”
My face flushed red-hot at the out-loud acknowledgement of the sex we’d had. Yes, it had pretty much taken the cake for the best sex I’d ever had, too, and, yes, it had definitely felt different in some way. In a way I wasn’t sure I understood yet. I was rendered speechless by his confession. My tongue tied itself into knots and then the cat stole it.
“I think this conversation has crossed over the inappropriate line,” I managed in a small voice.
“Maybe just a little bit.”
“I don’t date, Ben. And certainly not my boss.”
