Page 92 of A World Without You
TWENTY
Sunday, December 17th
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WE FINISH WATCHINGThe Grinchwith Josie and head outside to catch snowflakes on our tongues and make a few snow angels in the snow, slowly piling up in the grass. Then come back inside to watchThe Santa Claus. By the time Tim Allen has accepted his fate as the man in red, Josie is fast asleep, and Bennett transports her to bed.
When he returns to me on the couch with a flop, he says, “She’s out like a light.”
I snake my frigid toes under his leg, and he shrieks and jumps. “Jesus, Liv! Your feet are freezing.”
“I know! That’s why I shoved them under your leg!” I shout back.
He puts a hand on his chest. “I feel violated.”
“I feel...warmer,” I counter, and he glares at me as he gets up. “Oh, come on, I’ll move my feet!” I holler as he slips down the hall.
He returns with a pair of wool socks. I smile at him.
He returns to the exact spot he just was on the couch and holds out his hand, “Foot,” he demands, and I hold out my right foot like Cinderella. He rolls the wool sock on my foot and gently places my leg on his lap, then holds out his hand for my other foot. He repeats the action until both my feet are covered in thick, fuzzy wool socks, draped over his lap, and our wine glasses are in hand.
“Thank you,” I say, the affection apparent in my voice.
“You’re welcome,” he says, gently squeezing my double socked feet.
Bennett is always such a problem-solver. He doesn’t complain about his problems. He just states them and deals with them. If he has a solution, he provides it. If he doesn’t, he moves past it. Even if the problem is my feet, but even that seems so admirable. I stare at him with his perma-scowl, light eyes, dark lashes, and perfect stubble peppering his sharp jaw. He’s still wearing his backward baseball hat. I have a flash of attraction toward him and internally panic at how completely preposterous the idea is.
“Take your hat off,” I tell him.
His chin snaps back at my random demand. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
“No,” he says quickly, so I smack it off.
“What is wrong with you?” he asks, completely flabbergasted.
A laugh bubbles out of me. “Nothing. You’re just...you.”
He squints at me, clearly confused.
“Never mind,” I say, picking his hat off the floor and handing it to him. He is just as painfully beautiful without it. He always has been. But he’s Bennett. No cause for concern here. He would never, and neither would I.
Changing the subject, I ask, “Hey, did you know Colin had a fiancée?”
