Page 68 of The Casanova Complex

Elliott glances at Bennett, then back at me with his eyes wide. “I said we’re home. Can you unlock the door?”

Oh.

Shit.

I didn’t even realize we’d made it home.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” I mumble as I reach for the keys in the front pocket of my jeans. I don’t even need to look for confirmation; I can feel Bennett’s eyes on me as I do, and I’m sure he’s got that stupid, smug grin on his face.

I finally manage to get them out of my pocket and the door unlocked. I swing it open and step back so Elliott can go inside.

When I look at Bennett, he does, in fact, have that dumb grin, and I narrow my eyes, glaring at him.

“Shut up.”

He lifts his hands, palms up. “I didn’t say anything.”

Yeah, well, he doesn’t have to. He obviously has caught on to the fact that kissing him leaves me… dazed.

How silly is that?

“Bennett, you’re coming to the movie night, right? I can show you my setup,” Elliott says, pausing at the front door with his palm still curved around the knob. “Just wait until you see the new skins I just got in COD. Took me forever, but they’re so sick.”

My eyes widen. No way.

I shake my head, answering before Bennett can. “No, Ell, I think… he has plans tonight. It’ll just be you and I.”

“Movie night?” Bennett’s brows are bunched together.

“Yeah, it’s our tradition. We do it every Halloween. We see who can stay up the latest watching horror movies, and the loser has to cook breakfast. Spoiler alert, it’s never me,” Elliott says. “You have to come. You’re Merritt’s booooyfriend.”

“Elliott,” I warn, shooting him a look.

He shrugs. “What? He is.” His gaze slips from me back to Bennett. “It’ll be way more fun than your plans. C’mon, stay.”

My gaze connects with Bennett, who, of course, smiles and shrugs. “As long as your sister’s cool with it, I’m in.”

“Please, Mer. Pleaseeeee,” Elliott begs, his hands clasped together in front of him.

No.

Absolutely not.

I sigh. “Okay. But you have to take a shower because you smell like a gym sock.”

Elliott lifts his fist in the air in a pump. “Yes!” But then he quickly lowers it and nods, feigning disinterest in that typical I’m super blasé, preteen boy kind of way when they feel they’re un-coolly excited about something. “Sweet. I mean, kinda weird that I’m having to beg for your boyfriend to hang out, but whatever.”

“Go shower,” I say in my firm I’m going to punch you in the next twelve seconds voice. “Before I change my mind.”

When he disappears through the front door, I turn back to look at Bennett leaning against the doorframe, his hands buried in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

I swear he wore them just to annoy me.

And turn me on.

Both are happening at once.

“I don’t have to stay. If you want, I can leave,” he murmurs.