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He took it for a challenge. "That so?"
"You're a nice guy, Ben. Trustworthy and always prepared. The kind of guy who doesn't jay walk and follows the speed limit. Whereas I'm a bad girl to the bone. It'd never work."
"Huh." He said, rocking back a bit on his heels, then forward again before letting out a long breath that steamed into the air. "What if I told you that I like bad girls?"
"Every guy thinks he like bad girls…until he actually finds one."
"Huh," Ben said, again, eyes narrowing. "What if I promised to make your dirtiest bad girl fantasy come true?"
I rolled my eyes. "My dirtiest fantasy would send you screaming into the night, Boyo."
That really should've been the end of it.
I thought he'd laugh it off and let me pass. Instead, he closed the door, shutting the noise of the party out behind us. Then he sat down on the wooden step with his big hands dangling off the edge of his knees like he meant for us to chat for a while. "Try me."
I gave his foot a little kick with the toe of my stylish boot. "Like I'm going to tell you my secret fantasies."
Ben grinned. "Who else are you gonna tell? Besides, didn't you just say that I was trustworthy?"
It was tempting to tell him my fantasy just to wipe that insufferable grin off his face. But there were some things I'd never confessed to anyone. "No way. You'd never look at me the same way again."
He was undeterred. "Well, something's gotta change between us, doesn't it? How many times can a guy keep getting shot down before he takes it personally?"
"Sorry, but that's your mom's fault."
"Nah," he said, looking up into my eyes. "I've been crushing on you since I was in braces and you were being grounded for sneaking out of the house with that stoner to attend a party three towns over."
I scowled, not believing him for a moment. "I'm pretty sure you're the one who ratted me out."
"Wasn't me," Ben said, making a lazy mock salute. "Scout's honor."
I glanced at him sidelong. Had he really been crushing on me for years? If so, he'd found a strange time to tell me…
"C'mon, Becca," he prompted. "Tell me your fantasy. I won't tell and I won't judge."
"Everybody judges. Especially guys like you."
He raised a brow. "Guys like me? And what kind of guy am I?"
"You know," I said, waving my hand to encompass the dress-shirt, the clean-cut style and general blandness. Hell, his last name was White!
"Now whose judging?" he asked.
Busted. My smart-alec smirk fell away.
I didn't think it was possible for his expression to get more serious, but it did. "Becca, there's absolutely nothing you could tell me that's gonna shock me."
I snorted, leaning against my mom's car, which prompted Ben to take the cookie tray from me and set it down on the stairs next to him. "C'mon. What's your fantasy? Or are you going to make me guess?"
"You can't guess," I said, hugging myself against the bite of winter air.
Ben tilted his head. "You wanna be with a girl."
"Pfft! Only in Geece Grove would girl-on-girl action shock anybody. You think I'd be afraid to tell you that?"
His smile widened. "Oh, so you're afraid to tell me. This gets better all the time…"
I felt weirdly vulnerable, and wanted my cookie tray back for armor. "It's just a weird kink, okay? Now, give me back my cookies and let me go inside."
