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“I didn’t really watch cartoons.”
“What kid doesn’t like cartoons? Are you for real?” She yanked open the stairway door. “If you haven’t seen the movie, how do you know that song?”
“Ah, I have my ways.”
They ran up the stairs and entered Riley’s room, a wave of heat surging forward.
Woah. “Who turned on the sauna?” Ben took off his cap and fanned his face.
She tugged off her ankle boots and rushed over to the window, hoisting it open with a groan. “The heating needs to be fixed.”
Ben removed his shoes and coat then yanked his hoodie over his head, sending hair tufts reaching for the ceiling. Dropping the two layers on the loveseat, he bent slightly, eyeing a bunch of library books scattered over the cushions. What’s she got here? The Art of Racing in the Rain, A Woman of Independent Means, 84 Charing Cross Road… His fingers briefly tugged on a thin leather bracelet knotted on his right wrist.
Riley adjusted the curtain so no one could see in from the building across the street. “I’ll leave it open, but if you get cold—” Shaking off her jacket, Riley turned around. Ben was reading the books’ spines and flapping the bottom hem of his Police t-shirt, trying to cool down. He looked up, catching her raised eyebrows.
“Oh, don’t worry.” He straightened his posture, a cheeky grin brightening his face. “Nothing else is coming off. This stripper has hung up his G-string for good.”
Riley bit her cheek, avoiding his eyes and diving for the mess on the cushions.
Aw, she’s blushing! Cute! Let’s see if I can make it worse. The smile fell from his face. “Actually, I’m disappointed. My final dance was supposed to be performed…completely starkers.”
“Starkers?”
“Naked.”
Riley juggled the books in her arms. “OH!”
His intense expression cracked. “Your face! Back of the net!”
“Yeah, yeah!” She smirked and squeezed around him. “Very funny!”
“Well, I thought so!” He laughed, smoothing down his t-shirt as he surveyed her place. On top of her drawers, a colorful collection of candy dispensers standing to attention drew a smile. “PEZ fan, eh?” He picked up a Snoopy.
“Um…” Her cheeks gave away her embarrassment—again. “When I was a kid, yeah. I’m not sure why I still have them…”
“You’re nostalgic—nothing wrong with that.” Taking in his surroundings, Ben flicked Snoopy’s chin up and down and returned him to his perch. “You’ve made great use of space.”
“Thanks. I can’t afford anything bigger.” She piled the books underneath her clothing rack, her eyes catching the red and white pattern on his green socks—candy canes. She stood up and bumped into him. “Um, sorry.”
But Ben was distracted. “Riley…there’s a…spider.” He pointed a shaky finger at the wall.
“Eww!” She did a double take—Ben was pale and wide-eyed. “You’re more freaked out than I am!”
“Spiders give me the willies.”
“Well, I’m not killing Charlotte. It’s bad luck!”
“But…how will you sleep…knowing it’s…” Ben gulped and bent over, pulling a tissue from a box on the milk crate. “Don’t… move.” His hand flew at the wall and he scrunched the tissue quickly. “Oh, FUCK. It’s wriggling!” He leapt to the open window and set Charlotte and the tissue free.
“My hero!” She teased. A dark blue design on Ben’s inner arm drew her curiosity. “Hey, what’s that?”
Ben’s face relaxed. “My tattoo? He’s from Pac-Man, a frightened ghost.” He stretched out his arm, showing off the character, which was a little bit larger than a quarter. The top of its head was rounded with pink dot eyes and a squiggly frowning mouth, and its feet were three undulating waves.
“Pac-Man? You a gamer?”
“Not really. The café near school had a beat-up machine, and I’d play for ages. I always felt an affinity with the frightened ghosts, aimlessly wandering…” He chuckled. “Do you have ink?”
“No. I can never decide what to get.”
