With the money he’s making from commissions, he could spend most of his week anywhere else, and yet it doesn’t stop him. Every day, without fail, he’s here, tinkering away at a project in his workshop.
I figure he must get lonely over here by himself, which is why I make the effort to come over at lunch every other day.
Shut up, Skye. There’s no other reason.
“Sometimes, the materials I use are pricier,” he says. “And sometimes, a rich asshole comes in here and getscharged extra.” He’s bent over the piece he’s working on, running a finger over the edge, eyeing an imperfection I can’t see.
God, he’s gorgeous. Every time I look at the veins on the back of his hands, I feel feral. I could write a novel on everything I want those hands to do to me. Six seasons and a movie.
Benji straightens and holds his hand out. “Can you pass me the flat file?”
I can’t see what he’s pointing at. “Um …”
“This one,” he says gently, shifting closer and reaching past me.
His waist slots in perfectly between my thighs, and suddenly, all I want is to lie down while he drapes his weight over me. Pressing down on me. Surrounding me completely.
He steps away, and I don’t speak for a full count of ten while I try to get my heart to slow down.
“Sorry. I skipped woodwork in school. I took an extra English lit class instead.”
“Oh?”
I watch his arms tense and release as he works, laser-focused. After a couple of passes, he stops, tests the grain with his fingers, and decides if it needs more or not. It’s mesmerizing.
“Yeah,” I say, unused to the silence. There’s always noise over at our shop. “Though the teacher regretted accepting me. Skye and I were always getting in trouble for talking in class. One time, he actually made me standat the front to tell everyone what was so important that I had to interrupt the lesson. We were studying the bookBig Town Blue. Did you ever read that?”
Benji shakes his head.
“I’m not surprised,” I say, swinging my legs. “It’s pretty old. They made it into a movie in the ’60s, which is surprisingly good. It really amps up the tension from the novel. Don’t bother looking for it though. It’s, like, impossible to find.”
I’m talking too much, aren’t I? Fuck. It’s just so quiet, and he’s so hot.
Filing complete, Benji takes a strip of sanding paper and starts working into and around the grooves of his work. I think I could stare at him for hours. Usually, he’s so … closed off, jaw tight and something shuttered behind his eyes, like everything he’s feeling is underlined by a little bit of melancholy. Skye calls it his “sad boy” face.
“Anyway,” I say, clearing my throat, “what was I saying?”
His eyes glimmer with humor when he looks up. “You were trouble as a kid.”
“Right,” I say, then stop. “No, I wasn’t trouble.”
The smile he directs my way could singe the hair of a cat.Double fuck.
“Don’t be shy. I like it.”
My heart is beating so loudly in my ears; there’s no way he can’t hear it.
“What I was trying to say,” I continue because if Idon’t keep talking, I’m probably going to do something mortifying, like kiss him, “is that he tried to trip me up by making me stand at the front of the class, but if he’d beenlistening, he would have known I was making a point about how much better the villain’s monologue was in the book than the movie. I mean, obviously, they were going to cut it down for the film—it goes for, like, a page and a half—but it hits harder in the novel.”
“Did he agree?”
“Not even a little bit.” I giggle. “So, I recited the whole monologue to the class to prove my point. Skye and I were in detention for a week.” It was worth it though. “I like to think it still bothers him that I got an A in that class.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he says.
“I mean, at least he didn’t flunk me. Wait, why doesn’t that surprise you?”
“Because everything about you is impressive.”
