I nod mutely as he leaves, and only after I’m sure the double set of doors that lead out are securely closed, I turn to the mirror.
I don’t look like myself. Slightly more pale than normal, small, hunched forward with my arm wrapped around my middle. I look tired and meek. No wonder he’s treating me like I’m fragile.
I undress and carefully fold my clothes in case I need them in the morning, then I step into the shower and luxuriate in every single one of Ben’s expensive soaps and shampoos. The shower I share in the house back at Caltech has the water pressure of a dripping hose, and I can’t use nice soap because, for one, I can’t afford it, and for two, if I did splurge, everyone else would pilfer it.
I stay in there forever, turning in slow circles, feeling the warm water beat down on my skin. Eventually, I cut it off, worrying Ben might come in to check on me since I’m taking so long.
I wrap myself in a fluffy white towel and pad over to the nearest closet. It’s nearly empty inside, save for some storage boxes at the very top, on shelves completely out of my reach. I realize it’s the closet Ben’s wife will use one day, and that thought makes my heart pound as I quickly back out and close the door behind me. Across the bathroom, in Ben’s closet, I find a pair of boxer briefs and an old college basketball t-shirt that’s been washed so many times it’s decadently soft.
The boxer briefs are comically big even when I roll them twice, but they’ll have to do. The t-shirt is large as well, enough so that I don’t have to worry about the fact that I’m not wearing a bra.
I leave my hair to airdry as I rub on some La Mer face cream I found in the toiletry bag. As I’m brushing my teeth, Ben knocks on the door.
“Come in,” I say around the toothbrush.
He steps into his bathroom and his gaze immediately lands on me.
I shift on my feet as he takes me in, showered and fresh-faced.
“Good. You found something to wear,” he says, looking down to conceal a smile. I must look ridiculous in his clothes, but it’s not my fault he’s so tall.
He heads into his closet, presumably to change into pajamas. He closes the door, but not all the way, and in the mirror, I can see a sliver of his naked back as he undresses. Smooth tan skin so muscled and toned I momentarily get distracted from the task at hand. My toothbrush dangles in my mouth as he steps out of his pants, and then he looks over his shoulder and finds me staring. I blink and look away quickly, leaning forward to rinse my mouth and tap the water off my toothbrush.
When I finish and stand, he walks out of his closet in a low-slung pair of pajama pants, sans shirt. I watch him as he nears, trying to keep my attention off his bare chest, aware of the blood pulsing in my neck as he steps up behind me and drops his hand to my hip.
“Mind if I…?” He leans around me to get his toothbrush, but he doesn’t move me aside. He stands right behind me as he wets it, applies toothpaste, and starts brushing his teeth. His eyes meet mine in the mirror, and his expression is a little cheeky.
He’s aware of what he does to me, of course. I make no attempt to hide it. It’d be utterly in vain, anyway. I might as well revel in this moment, watch him all I want as he does an ordinary task while looking drop-dead gorgeous.
Once he’s finished, he rinses his mouth and dabs it with a towel. I stand there, waiting for him to lead me to the next activity.
“I should offer to take the guest bedroom and let you sleep in here alone, shouldn’t I?” he says as we walk back into his room.
“Please don’t.”
I understand why we’re not rushing straight into things. I know it’s been a long day and there’s still so much to discuss, but sleeping next to Ben is one of life’s simple pleasures, and I don’t want him to deprive me of it out of some needless sense of chivalrous obligation.
“It’s a big bed,” I add, as if that’s reason enough for him to stay.
He nods and we each take a side, tugging down the blankets. We climb up and settle in beside each other, separated and chaste. I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to be good before Ben turns out the light. In the dark, he reaches over and grabs hold of my hip under the blanket, tugging me toward him so I’m flush against his chest, my legs tangled with his. Neither one of us says a word. I’m too caught up in my own head, worrying about what this all means, trying to calm my heart so he doesn’t notice how erratically it’s beating because of him.
His arm circles my waist, keeping me still as we both start to settle and relax, growing comfortable with this closeness.
A few minutes pass, and I think he’s drifting off to sleep then he whispers in the dark, “I didn’t want to leave you in Texas.”
My pulse quickens at the revelation.
“We could have made it work,” he insists.
I shift and lean back, trying to find his face in the dark. My eyes have adjusted enough that I can barely make him out in the moonlight seeping in around the drapes.
“You had enough to focus on,” I whisper weakly. “Look at everything you had going on. You were flying to Tokyo for the Olympics, you were going through a divorce and becoming a father. The last thing you needed to worry about was a brand-new girlfriend.”
His finger traces circles on my hip. “Girlfriend.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you’d only pay attention to that word.”
“I just like the way it sounds.”
“Don’t get distracted. I was making a really good point. You and I wouldn’t have worked out before.” I shake my head, sure of it. “Nan…it wasn’t pretty there for a while. I was going through a lot. She passed so quickly, and she didn’t leave me much. I had to pack up my life back in Texas yet again and get my head on straight…I wasn’t even sure they’d let me return to Caltech. I mean, thank god for Professor Olmsted…”
He digests all of that, and I think it might be the end of it until he continues, “I agree somewhat…it would have been hard, but we would have pulled through.”
I groan in annoyance. “You’re in la-la land. What was I supposed to do? What if you decided you were going to try to make it work with Shelby so Caleb could grow up with his parents together?”
“That was never an option,” he says, coming toward me.
I back up on instinct. “Well I didn’t know that! It’s common enough. You loved her at one point and you love your son, and I didn’t want to stand in the way of that.”
He hovers over me in the dark. “I was already too far gone, Birdie.”
His declaration sends a shiver down my spine.
“I still am,” he continues.
It’s not possible. This can’t just suddenly…work. That doesn’t happen for me. I’m the kid with flaky parents, the one raised by her grandmother. I’m the quiet girl in school who the boys looked right over like I wasn’t even there. I’m the one who wasn’t all that good at sports, the one who read and read and read until all I knew was books. I’ve kept up that relationship, truly the only one I can depend on now that my nan is gone. It makes no sense that Ben could be into me as much as I’m into him. This hope feels so good, too good, scary good.
“Ben, we’re just getting our feet wet. We’ve barely spent any time together—”