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“You said it’s scary how much this girl cares. Put yourself in the shoes of the guy she cares about.You’rethe one she’s describing.You’rethe one she can’t stop thinking—or writing—about. It’s about you.” I gulp, realizing how closely I’m toeing the line here. But Benjamin doesn’t seem to notice.
“Oh man, I’d be terrified,” Ben admits, straightening up and pausing mopping. “And I’d feel. I don’t know. Unworthy?” He says tentatively.
“That.” I stop my cleaning and turn to face him. “Thatis a real, raw emotion that other people, also men, will identify with. That’s what you need to explore, I think.”
“You think?” He asks, his dark eyes staring at me intensely.
“Try it.”
I nod to his notepad on the bed.
He eagerly sits down and starts scribbling away, bouncing ideas off me as I continue to clean. Soon enough, Ben has a full set of song lyrics in front of him. He reads them out to me and I nod my head in satisfaction.
“You definitely took it from good to great, Ben.”
“Thanks to you!” He looks up at me eagerly. “This is the most productive writing day I’ve had in months, Lace.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I say, “And, on top of that, this was the last room in the house left to clean. Now we can move on to the actual renovations and repairs. A day worth celebrating.”
I’m standing on a small step stool, cleaning the top of the wardrobe, the last spot to dust in the room. I glance down at my feet dubiously as I prepare to step down.
“Want a hand?” Ben asks, standing up from the bed and crossing the room to stand at my feet.
“Yes, please,” I say, throwing the dirty rag I’ve been cleaning with down to the ground.
“Catch hold,” he said, putting his hands on my waist. I place my hands on his shoulders as he swings me easily down to the ground. Then, without warning, he envelopes me in a giant bear hug.
“Thank you, Lace,” he mumbles into my hair. He’s so tall that my head just comes to his chin when I’m in my bare feet, like now.
“Sure thing,” I say giving him a little hug before stepping back. “I can’t wait to hear the full lyrics set to music.”
“I’m gonna go down to the studio and get to work,” Ben says eagerly, giving my arm a squeeze and dashing off, his songwriting notebook in hand. I breathe a sigh of relief as he departs.
“Hey Lace?” He calls back to me from the hall.
My stomach flip-flops. What’s he going to say? Did he figure out who that diary entry was really about?
“Yeah?” I stick my head into the hallway and lock eyes with him where he’s standing at the top of the stairs.
“We make a really good team,” he says with a grin, absentmindedly scratching at the stubble on his chin.
“Yeah, Ben,” I say with a smile. “We do.”
He goes racing down the stairs as I stare after him, my heart pounding. Hearing those old diary entries about Ben were a dangerous peek into the past, reminding me of how deeply I used to care about my troubled stepbrother.
On top of that, our moments of closeness today, fleeting as they were, are stirring up old feelings.
His hands on my hips, his arms around me, the feeling of being pressed against his muscular chest…
Lacy, what are you getting yourself into?
Chapter Seven
Benjamin
Ifyouhadtoldme a week ago that I’d behappyto spend a day stripping wallpaper, I’d have said you were fucking crazy. Or, more likely, I’d ask you what tabloid gossip rag you’d been reading. Now? Well, here I am, in a pair of ratty old jeans and an old t-shirt, a putty knife in hand—eager to get started.
“Have you ever done this before?” I ask Lacy, who’s busily squinting at her phone.
