Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
That was fucking amazing.
“I’m really happy for you.” I dared to reach out and give his arm a brief squeeze, and he smiled that gorgeous fucking smile. “So, can we celebrate when you get back, or are you staying at your ma’s?”
He grew hesitant and pulled out his phone again. “It’s never a good idea I stay there. Her place is too tiny, and we gotta get creative with the sleeping arrangements. If you don’t mind, I’d like to come back here, but I might be late. It depends on Alvin.”
I nodded, totally understanding that part. I was just glad he was coming back. “I don’t mind—and…I need you to get that through your thick skull. I want you to stay with me. I’m not doing it to do you a favor.”
He tilted his head. “Then why are you doing it, bright spot?”
Oh, so that nickname was making a comeback, huh?
That was fine.
“We have stellar banter going on.” I shrugged. “Plus, you’re gonna save me a ton of money if you’re building me a bartop. You’re practically doing me a favor.”
He laughed quietly and shook his head. “I liked the first part—and I agree. But the rest was bullshit.”
No, it fucking wasn’t.
“What’re you talking about?” I had to push. I couldn’t help it. I wanted him to see. “Every improvement in the bar leads to better reviews and more customers. This is a win-win situation, Ben.” I folded my arms over my chest and tried to stand a little taller. I felt like I would’ve sounded more convincing if he weren’t such a damn skyscraper. “You’ll be doing what I can’t afford—and trust me, I got a long list if you ever get bored.”
At least he didn’t dismiss what I said. He was listening; he was mulling things over.
When his gaze met mine again, the affection and soft mirth were unmistakable, and a beat later, he cupped the back of my neck and pulled me in for a hug.
“Thank you. I needed to hear that.” He pressed a kiss to my temple and was gone long before I wanted him to, long before I’d gotten a chance to process anything, and he started walking backward to the truck. “I’ll text you when I know how late I’m gonna be.”
I nodded dumbly.
Fuck me, I wanted him. A rush of nerves and desire and longing swept through me and stayed there. This went so far beyond lust and temporary attachments. He was threatening my sanity as it was, and nobody had done that before. Even with Eric, I’d maintained a level of emotional distance, and it hadn’t only been because of his addiction.
During that week, I felt myself take a step back. My feelings were terrifying me, and Ben was busy settling into new routines. He was too stubborn to let me lend him money, so he insisted on working extra. When he wasn’t at his actual job, he helped out around the bar, he got started on his “reclaimed wood” bartop for me, and he assisted with soup kitchen preparations. Only then was he comfortable eating the food in my fridge.
When he wasn’t busy working, he was with his son and mother.
He came home one day visibly relieved because his ma was in higher spirits now that he had a full-time job he seemed happy with, not to mention living arrangements that didn’t worry her half to death. She was seemingly impressed by Ben’s new address in the city, mostly because she hated the idea of him living in a garden unit or basement somewhere that flooded.
Given that she was an Elmwood Park resident, I could understand her concerns. I didn’t know what that suburb was most famous for, Johnnie’s Beef or the frequent flooding in the area.
Either way, Ben’s ma was happy, and Alvin was now gonna go to therapy once a week instead of two or three times a month.
I had to admit, I was curious about Ben’s family. As always, he was a man of few words, and he didn’t share a whole lot. But I could just be impatient, because he dropped some minor details here and there. Like their whole situation out there and how Ben wanted them to move to a better place where his mother wasn’t forced to sleep on the couch in the front room. Or that it was Alvin’s anxiety and panic attacks that prevented them from leaving.
I was becoming familiar with an ounce of that anxiety, though it was more related to Ben leaving, and I didn’t know why. He’d settled in fine upstairs. He was weirdly neat when it came to laundry and actual cleaning. Like, he could make a mess and leave his clothes on the floor just like I did, but he’d probably used the vacuum more than I had in the years I’d lived here, and the bathroom had never been so spotless. He’d even cleared the shower glass of most of the limescale buildup.