Page 23 of Storm in a Teacup
“Yeah,” I respond tentatively, prepared to go on the defense.
“Interesting. I don’t know anything about crystals, but I can do a bit of research.”
Huh.“You don’t have to. Just because I like them doesn’t mean you would too.”
“A good boyfriend would at least take a general interest in something his girlfriend likes, even if just to converse about it.”
Doublehuh.“Oh. Yeah, well. Thanks.” I twist the ring. “Anything I should look up about you?”
“Erm, general know-how of mountain biking? I’m less into it than I used to be, but I do enjoy it. And nature in general. I spent a gap year before uni traveling around the States to visit different national parks. Just so you don’t look completely lost if it gets brought up.”
“Got it. Mountain biking and big parks. Easy enough.”
By the time we pull into King’s Cross Station, we know enough about one another to get through the weekend. Ben pulls my suitcase down from above head for me, then fetches his own. He’s the perfect height. For grabbing things, I mean. I’m not thatshort, but short enough to have to stand on my tiptoes for a lot of things. It’s nice to have someone who can reach up and get things for me, no tiptoes needed.
I shake myself out of that ridiculous thought. I don’t need anyone to grab things for me. That’s what stepstools are for.
“Come on,” I say, pushing my suitcase down the aisle of the train and out the doors. “We need to catch the Victoria line so we can get to Soho.”
…
There is only one bed in our hotel room. This circumstance should not be surprising, but here we are. Mel booked the room, but I figured (hoped) it would be a two twin-bed situation. But, no. One bed.
Mel was surprised when I asked if I could bring Ben. “Well, now that we’re allowed to bring partners,” I explained. But that, of course, did not explain why I had never mentioned him to her. “It’s new,” I said, which is technically true. “I mean, we met back in September, but just started seeing each other.” Also true. We did meet in September, and we did just start seeing each other, only as in literally seeing and not as much in the dating sense. “I swear I have mentioned him to you before.” Lie. “You’ve been so busy with wedding planning, you probably forgot.” A little bit of gaslighting never hurt anyone, right?Ugh.
“Right,” she had said slowly. “You know, maybe I do remember you mentioning him, now that you say that. No matter. I’m so excited to meet him!”
And now, here we are, standing awkwardly in our shared hotel room staring at the one and only bed in silence.
Ben breaks that silence with, “Looks like we’re going to be doing some snuggling tonight.”
“We will not besnuggling,” I shoot back, amused by thesuggestion.
“Sharing a bed is a great way to get to know someone,” he teases gently. “I’ve gotten to know several almost-strangers such as yourself through the act of sharing a bed.”
“I’m willing to bet it wasn’t the sharing of the bed but rather what you were doing in the bed that gave you a nice introduction to those strangers.”
He scoffs. “Excuse me. I was talking about the morning cuppa. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
I roll my eyes. “Sorry. I don’t ever spend the night with my strangers I’m ‘getting to know.’” I squat down to open my suitcase. “I’m going to change. And then we’re supposed to meet them at the first bar.”
The plan for tonight is to hit a couple bars, then end at a club (it’s been years since I’ve been to a club, so I’m a mixture of excited for dancing and dreading the crowds). Then tomorrow, the ladies are doing a mini spa day, and the men are playing soccer or something. I told Ben he is invited to the stag activity, but he is under no obligation to go.
In the bathroom, I change into a dark green dress with a short skirt that I’ll pair with tall boots. My legs are going to be freezing, but that is the expectation on nights out such as these.
I exit the bathroom, sensing Ben’s eyes on me, but he doesn’t say anything. He changed into a light blue button-down, collar open at the top and sleeves rolled up, but is wearing the same pants he wore on the train.Men.
I sit down on the bed to zip up my boots. Finally, when I stand, I witness Ben give me a dramatic once-over, head literally moving down and back up with his eyes.
“Yowza” is the word that comes out of his mouth. I have never heard that word in a Scottish accent before.
I push him away. “Shut up.”
He groans, “Thoseboots,buttercup. What are you trying to do to me?”
I decline to answer that question as I grab my purse and exit our hotel room. “Come on, Ben.”
He laughs as he exits behind me. “You look amazing, Linny.”
