He takes my elbow, the heat of his palm curling around my skin. The rough texture of his fingers is exactly as I remember.
Fuck.
“Ready?” he asks.
No.
Shakily, I nod, and then I set my shoulders back. Because, actually, I’m not the one who should be nervoushere. I’m savinghis asson this date, and coming here wasmy idea, and I’m not the one wearing afanny pack.
Suddenly, I’m grateful for the eye mask.
Benji leads. He’s careful to keep me from bumping into people, even as he murmurs apologies as we go.
I guess those sorries are easier to give than the one he owes me.
The first scents are pleasantly surprising, things I’d expect Skye to concoct on her most adventurous days—rain on asphalt, forest soil, sun-warmed apple pie. All of it is complemented by the familiar base of Benji beside me. His heat. His voice.
“Hold out your hand.”
Did he just lower his voice, or am I imagining it?
Someone needs to turn the air up in here. How is everyone not sweating right now?
I don’t know what to expect when I raise my hand, palm up, but it’s definitely not Benji running his fingers along my palm.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my hand trembling.
Benji’s breathing pauses. “Paige …”
And, goddammit, why does he make my name sound like a plea? Like he’s just as affected as I am. It’s not fair.
“Don’t,” I choke out.
He must swallow whatever he was going to say because, instead, something rough is placed in my palm. It has the texture of bark, but not the shape, perfectly round but peeling slightly, like layers of paper. It’s odd and oddly comforting, all at the same time. There’ssomething … human about it. Something recognizable, but also not. Something that could be misunderstood without the curiosity to know more.
“You’re supposed to describe how you’re feeling,” Benji says.
Ha. Angry. Scared. Horny.
“Cold,” I lie.
I realize my mistake a second later as Benji starts to rub warmth into my arms. I should push him away, but it feels too good.
“Better?” he asks.
Worse. So much worse.
But I nod, and he lets go.
* * *
We enter through the red door.
The tour guide beams. “Welcome to the compliment corner.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“This room is all about sight. But perception is more than what we see, and to truly know someone, you need to look deeper.”
