He finally looked at me then, and it was like standing too close to a fire. His gaze was quiet but intense, like he saw something in me I didn’t even know I’d left uncovered.
I swallowed.
He looked away first, exhaling a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.
“I guess I’m not what people expect at a lodge like this.”
“You mean a lodge that’s charming, whimsical, full of joy and muffins?”
“Exactly.”
“Well,” I said, smiling again, “you’re doing better than you think.”
“Oh?”
“You haven’t glared at your coffee once since we sat down.”
He chuckled, finally real and warm and surprising.
“I’m making progress.”
“You are.” I tapped his mug with mine. “Soon you’ll be leading s’mores night.”
He groaned. “I knew there’d be s’mores night.”
“There’salwayss’mores night.”
He stared at me like I was the most complicated puzzle he'd ever half-solved and wasn’t sure whether to finish or frame.
I tried not to squirm under the pressure, but something about the quiet between us felt different now. I might even say it was less awkward and more like a choice and a pause we were both leaning into instead of trying to escape with sarcastic quips.
And I had to wonder if this was what he looked like when he let the walls come down just a little, what would it look like if they came down all the way?
The air between us buzzed like static.
Ben sat across from me, hands curled around his mug, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what was going on behind those smoldering blue eyes of his.
Every now and then, he glanced up at me like he was almost about to say something, as if the thought sat heavy on the tip of his tongue.
But then it passed, and he’d look away again, quiet and unreadable, like always.
He’d softened a little, yes…there was less frown and more focus, possibly less suspicion, and more curiosity. He laughed occasionally. He met my eyes now, which was something.
But the walls?
They were still there, reinforced and completely bulletproof.
I wasn’t even sure why I wanted to peer over them.
He was a guest. Temporary. Passing through like a muddled Midwest weather system.
Ben was someone I’d likely never see again after the two weeks were up, so why was I leaning closer?
Why did it feel like something big lived in the quiet between his words?
I told myself not to read into it. Not to get attached. But the chemistry? It waspalpable.
Every time he looked at me, really looked, my chest got tight in a way that was both exciting and a little terrifying. Like I’d forgotten what it felt like to be seen, and now that I remembered, I couldn’t un-need it.
