After my ceremonial pushing into the pool, we both had to get out of the water. This was maybe when the embarrassment hit us the most. I was wearing a see-through pastel vest top and knickers that became completely transparent while Ben was similarly in white which fully showed off the contours of something I don’t think Jess and Zara needed to see. So I grabbed a towel and came here to dry off, laugh and have a lie-down but also to run a brush through my hair to catch any stray ants, just in case.
Ben comes over to where I am on the bed, placing the tray down carefully on a side table. I spy melon again. I hope he thinks I like more than just melon. I like how his hair is slightly curled with the damp. He puts a hand through it.
‘Think of this as a peace offering,’ he says.
‘Gladly received.’
‘Do you think you might want to come back down? I won’t smother you in honey and push you in the pool again,’ he says, making a weak salute.
‘I’ll be down in a minute,’ I say. His eyes shift to the laptop beside me despite the fact I’m just in a robe looking like I’m set for a day of lounging. He seems hesitant to say anything given that the last time he did, I actually shut the laptop, stopped working for once in my life, and lost my job. ‘I’m not working. I’m just writing some emails.’
He smiles and sits beside me on the bed. I look at him curiously as he makes himself comfortable. I’m not sure what my work contract says but it makes sense to get the feelers out about work, milk my contacts, refine my CV. I have about ten tabs up: an accurate reflection of how my brain is firing off at the moment.
‘I was worried. You’ve come up here again, escaping us. I can go if you don’t want company?’
‘No, you’re good,’ I tell him, patting the cushions next to me. He scooches in. I like how even after yesterday he doesn’t assume familiarity. He still waits to be invited in and he is patient with me. But there’s also a feeling I want to voice –I like you here.Not even in a sexual way, it feels like you belong here, next to me. ‘How yellow am I?’ I ask him.
‘You look like a really sexy minion,’ he tells me and I laugh.He said sexy. It feels wrong to just jump his bones immediately so I pull my computer on to my lap. ‘Can I say something? Not that I’ve been snooping but 8,585 unread emails?’ he says jokingly.
‘You were snooping then,’ I say.
‘I had a quick glance.’
‘Are you judging?’ I ask, looking down at his legs, crossed on my mattress.
‘You’re very organised in every aspect of your life so I expected your inbox to be?—’
‘Neat and small?’ I say, giggling.
‘Nicely curated,’ he says, leaning over. As bizarre as it sounds, he smells like butter. It’s a rich and homely scent and I inhale it for a moment, hoping he doesn’t think I’m weird.
‘Don’t tell me you’re one of those people with folders who deals with everything straight away?’ I ask him.
‘Perhaps. Do I not look the type?’
I smile because he doesn’t look like anything I expect in many ways. ‘My work email is incredibly organised and I deal with things straight away,’ I explain, ‘but my personal email is more of a?—’
‘Raging bin fire?’ he jokes.
‘I just never have the time to sort through it,’ I tell him.
He tips his head to one side. ‘So now you have the time?’
I nod. ‘I also need to sieve through the rubbish, tidy up so I can start sending out my CV and ensure no work emails get lost in?—’
‘How did your courier do?messages from Evri?’ he says cheekily.
‘Snooper…’ I say, turning my laptop to one side. I delete that message on the sly.
‘Do you want some help?’ he asks, looking over to me.
‘With…?’
Ben arches his eyebrows at the presumption. ‘I could help you tidy up that sprawling inbox? Baby steps. We could cancel some subscription emails? You get a lot from Deliveroo. We could adjust your settings.’
I pause for a moment because, very strangely, I don’t think I’ve ever been this aroused in my life. He leans into me, placing his hand on the touchpad.
‘Fifty percent off on Tuesdays though, just bank that for another time,’ he says, placing his other hand on mine.
