Page 68 of Candy Hearts
“Ugh, I feel like a dick now.”
“You’re not a dick.”
Benji’s brain was going to explode. He’d been so prepared for this to go poorly that it was as if he’d created a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe he’d doomed them to a bad date by not having faith.
But it was hard to have faith when so many people had rejected him and stifled his self-expression.
“That list wasn’t nothing to me,” Benji said again, trying, yet failing, to explain.
William brushed his fingers through Benji’s hair. “I don’t need you to be anyone but yourself.”
Want versus need. Benji sucked in a shuddery breath. He opened his mouth to speak, but William got there first.
“What I’m offering is my heart,” William said. “The whole thing. Because the little disasters with you have been better than just about anything I’ve ever experienced.”
Damn. Benji swallowed hard. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. “This has been moving so fast, and I’m feeling so much. It’s a lot. I think I need some time to think about us.”
He was retreating, and he knew it wasn’t the right thing to do, but everything about tonight had confused him, in good and bad ways. He needed a moment to put himself back together.
William nodded, disappointment clear on his face, but he leaned over the center console and kissed Benji softly. “Will I still see you Saturday?”
“What’s Saturday?”
“The Bachelorian Auction,” William said.
“Oh. I’d forgotten.”
William smiled, but it was more of a grimace. “Don’t worry about it. Come if you want. If you don’t, that’s okay, but a second date—think about that, please.”
* * *
The next morning, Benji texted his sisters:Emergency brunch. A.S.A.P.
Benji got there early. Rosie was the next to show. Also early. She was always prompt.
Today she was wearing a prim purple sweater and a plaid skirt. Her hair was pulled back with a ribbon. She was cool as a cucumber.
Born fourteen months apart, Rosie and Sasha were often mistaken for twins. They both had pixie faces and fine blonde hair and expressive blue eyes, but Rosie was rational and reticent, where Sasha was brash and wild.
“How was your date?” Benji asked. He wanted to hear about billiards guy.
She folded her hands over her lap. “He got drunk during dinner, flirted with the waitress, told me my divorce was my fault, then cried about the one-who-got-away. I never want to date again.”
“Holy saints of courtly love,” Benji cursed. “What a fuckboy. Also, your divorce was not your fault, Ro. Voldemort was a disloyal, lying, self-absorbed grease stain. He was a seeping bedsore. He—”
She smiled wanly and waved her hand. “I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about me. Are you okay? Sasha told me you slept with William O’Dare, which I have to admit, I did not see coming.”
Ah, there was that oldest-sibling syndrome Benji had been missing.
Their trusty regular waitress delivered a pitcher of mimosas to the table without having to ask if they wanted it. She had their order down pat.
Benji helped himself. “What do you think of William?” he asked, not answering Rosie’s initial question. He had no idea if he was okay. He was all shaken up inside.
“He works too hard.”
Benji laughed. “Do you like him? I like him.” He took a deep breath. “I think he likes me.”
She tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail on the table. “I should hope so, considering you spent an entire weekend in his bed.”
