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I shake my head. “Your honesty is what I like about you, Ben.”
He looks sheepish. “Shit. You know what I mean.”
Laughing, I show him in, then lock the door behind us. He puts the pizza and another plastic bag down on the counter nearby, glancing around the suite. His blue eyes shine, and he looks kind of imposing against the backdrop of the fancy room.
Ben is no longer the boy he once was. He’s just about 5’10”, not much taller than me, but what he lacks in height he makes up for in muscle. The guy is fit, like CrossFit, fit. His left arm is also covered in tattoos, as well as his right leg. He’s wearing some basketball shorts and a tight fitted white T-shirt.
“This place is… insane. I can’t believe this is your life now.”
I stop my perusal of him, grinning. He’s right, the hotel room is insanely nice, and probably overboard, but my label spared no expense, especially with the stalker.
“It’s strange, isn’t it?”
He runs his hand through his short sandy colored hair. “I’m happy for you though, living the way you live seems… thrilling.”
“Thrilling is a good word,” I say awkwardly. “Thanks for bringing pizza, it smells great.”
Ben accepts the change of subject, then walks over to the bag he brought. He reaches his hand in and pulls out a six pack of some craft beer, along with a bag of gummy bears. My favorite.
“For the lady,” he bows, handing me the bag.
“Aww, a man who knows the way to my heart. Thank you.”
“Beer?”
“Please. I’ll grab some plates and napkins.”
I make my way to the kitchen area, taking what I need before returning to Ben, who’s made himself comfortable on the couch. He’s propped his now shoeless feet on the coffee table, and has a beer cracked open waiting for me.
“Here you are, milady.”
I take the beer, setting the plates down. “Thank you, kind Sir.”
“Cheers!” he says, bumping his can against mine.
We take a sip, and I groan. “This is good.”
“Local IPA. Perfect with a New York slice.”
I rub my hands together. “Let’s get into it before it gets cold.”
He opens the box and I’m hit with the delicious smell of sausage and cheese. Again, my favorite. “You remembered.”
“To be fair, I may have asked Wren what you like on your pizza.”
“Aww,” I coo, patting him on the head. “So thoughtful.”
He chuckles, putting a slice on a plate for me. My first bite is heaven. God, it’s so good. Exactly what I wanted. The company isn’t bad either. There is an ease to Ben that I’ve always enjoyed, and now I’m regretting not telling him I was in town earlier. I should have gotten him free concert tickets, but I was afraid he’d bring the one person I’ve avoided for the last ten years.
“Nothing like a New York slice,” Ben says. “We didn’t have anything like this in Michigan.”
“This puts Pizza Hut to dust,” I agree. “Though, have you ever had Chicago Deep Dish in Chicago?”
“Not in Chicago. It’s good, but I prefer a lighter crust.”
“Come talk to me after you have it in Chicago. It’s heavenly. This is good, too. Totally different pizzas.”
“You speak facts.”
