Every Hidden Truth (Far From Ruined #2)

5. Cutesy Stuff

5

Cutesy Stuff

When we arrived at The Golden Egg, the early morning regulars were starting to clear out and the church crowd had yet to arrive, so we didn’t have to wait too long to be seated. A middle-aged woman with tired eyes led us to a two-person table, and I followed after Ben, enjoying the view of his ass in his low-slung jeans.

I hung my coat along the back of my chair before lowering into the seat. Ben copied me, placing his bulky coat on his own chair before adjusting his beanie.

Damn, he looked good in beanies. Granted, he looked good in almost anything, but the beanie was extra hot. I wanted to rip it from his head and eat his face off—in a non-zombie way, of course.

“So, is this place any good?” He pulled me from my fantasy as he inspected the menu.

“Yeah, they have killer breakfast food.”

“Good. I love breakfast food, especially pancakes.”

The waitress arrived with a pot of steaming coffee. “Morning, boys. What can I get you to drink?”

Ben flipped over his mug, and she poured his coffee without him needing to ask. “I’ll take a glass of water as well, please.”

“Sure thing, hon.” She turned to me expectantly.

I pointed flippantly at Ben. “I’ll just have water, too.”

With a nod, she returned to the kitchen, and I perused the menu without actually seeing it. Ben’s presence and the nearness of his leg underneath the table was too distracting. He shifted closer, his ankle pressing to mine, and I bit my lip to stop my smile.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Ben began, and I closed my menu to give him my full attention. “But what is up with the fixation on gravy?”

Puzzled, I barked out a laugh. “What?”

“Seriously, half this menu is breakfast food covered in gravy. Is that a Midwest thing?”

He’d dropped his voice to a whisper to ensure no one overheard, and I cackled into my shoulder. “Um, I don’t know. Gravy’s delicious, so why not add it to your favorite breakfast?”

“It just seems a bit excessive.” He shrugged as he took a sip of his coffee, and I feigned offense.

“Well, sorry that we’re not all vegan hippies like you California weirdos. We like comfort food. I always get biscuits and gravy.” I fiddled with my silverware to give my fingers something to do as he held up his hands in surrender.

He backtracked quickly, worried he actually offended me. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just an observation.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

The waitress appeared with our waters. “Are you ready to order?”

When Ben nodded, she raised her pen in preparation as he ordered. “I’ll take the double-chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream and a side of bacon and hash browns.”

Our haggard server didn’t bat an eyelash at the sugar bomb he’d just ordered. “Sure thing. And for you?”

I handed her my menu as I sent Ben an exaggerated eyebrow waggle. “I’ll take the half-and-half with extra gravy and a side of sausage.”

“Links or patties?”

“Links, naturally.” I winked, and Ben flushed to the tips of his ears.

“I’ll get that in for you.”

As the waitress left, Ben circled the lip of his coffee mug with his index finger as he frowned sternly. “Why are you always so crass?”

I gasped with mock innocence as I raised my glass of water to my lips. “Crass? Moi ? I have no idea what you’re referring to, Benjamin. I merely ordered sausage links.”

“Right. I forgot you’re a sausage guy.” He smirked, and I snorted into my water.

Not to be outdone, I leaned over the table and said, “You didn’t seem all that averse to sausage last night.”

His eyes widened, and I inclined my head smugly.

“Or was that a roll of quarters in your pocket?”

“Can you not, right now? We’re in public,” he hissed.

Cackling, I rubbed my shoe suggestively against his calf. “Oh, I’m sorry. Does this embarrass you?”

Quick as a whip, his hand snaked under the table and grabbed my knee, squeezing in warning. “Stop.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” I took another drink. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Why does that not comfort me?”

“Ugh, rude.”

He removed his hand from my knee, placing it on the table next to mine. He traced the veins on the back of my hand. “Would you feel weird if I held your hand?”

Yet again, his open vulnerability left me speechless. I managed a half-nod-shrug combination, and his dimple carved into his cheek as he twined our fingers together.

“I’ve never really done this,” I whispered, gaze locked on our twined hands.

“Held hands?”

I scoffed. “That too, but I meant this.” I gestured between us with my free hand. “The cutesy stuff.”

“Cutesy stuff?” he repeated, humor lacing his tone.

“Yes, Ben, cutesy stuff. I’m not good at this.”

“You’re doing just fine,” he said, and I blushed hotly. “I kind of like the cutesy stuff.”

And oh my God, could he be more adorable?

“I figured,” I said with a squeeze to his hand.

“You don’t mind?”

Shaking my head, I relaxed into my seat, unable to hide my goofy grin. “Nah, I can work with it.”

“Cool.”

We stared at each other for a never ending moment as his thumb rubbed circles over the back of my hand. The restaurant faded away, and we were the only two people in the universe. My heart galloped in my chest, and my stomach twisted delightfully.

I was already a goner, wasn’t I?

There was no stopping this. Ben was a flood, a tsunami, rushing in and devastating me in the most exquisite of ways. There was something about him that called to me, that resonated deep in my gut with terrifying familiarity.

We couldn’t be more different, yet we shared matching scars. We were two scared, broken little boys searching for something to hold on to, and somehow, we’d found each other. And maybe, just maybe, his jagged edges would fit perfectly with mine.

The moment shattered as the waitress appeared with a full tray of steaming food. Our hands parted, and I instantly missed the warmth.

“Enjoy,” she said as she placed the last plate—my sausage links—onto the table.

I grimaced at Ben’s plate of glucose. Noticing the expression, Ben stabbed a bite of his chocolate pancakes, dipped it in whipped cream, then offered me his fork. “You wanna bite?”

“No.”

He rolled his eyes, pushing the saccharine excess toward my lips. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

Accepting the bite with a growl, I chewed the sugar bomb and shuddered. Sure, I had a proclivity for blue moon shakes, but this was sickeningly sweet.

“It’s way too early to be eating cavities for breakfast.” I took a drink of my refilled water before shoving an entire sausage link in my mouth to replace the sweet with savory.

“But it’s so good!” He groaned obnoxiously around his bite, and I laughed as I dug into my hash browns swimming in thick, delicious gravy.

“Oh my God, I don’t know how you can eat that.”

As he swallowed, he flipped me the bird. “I’m a growing boy; sue me. And I really like pancakes.”

“Yeah, so do I, but that’s on a completely different level.”

“I guess I have a weakness for some things.” His foot pressed to mine under the table as he focused on his plate, his ears burning.

I had a feeling we weren’t talking about pancakes anymore. “Good to know you’re not infallible.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes, and I watched him eat just as methodically here as he had at the drive-in—a forkful of pancake, a bit of bacon then hash browns, and a swig of coffee.

After the waitress refilled our drinks, I nursed my water, having finished my food first, while Ben polished off his plate.

The ends of his hair curled nicely around his ears and the back of his neck. His sweater stretched across his shoulders snugly, hinting at the broad muscles he would continue to grow into. He was in that in-between stage—we both were—no longer boys but not quite men. But he was going to make one hell of a man, I was sure.

“Earth to Silas.” Ben snapped his fingers in front of my face, and I blinked back into the moment.

“Sorry, what?”

A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “You were staring.”

“You have a nice face,” I said, and his neck splotched with color.

“Oh. Thanks. You too. I mean, your face is also... good. More than good. It’s, uh”—he cleared his throat noisily—“it’s just very nice.”

I should not have been enjoying his stammers as much as I was, and I grinned like a fiend. “Thank you. I’m glad you like my face.”

“Stop distracting me. I have something important to ask you,” he said sternly.

“I’m not doing anything. I’m just existing here with my face, that’s apparently very nice,” I teased, and he glared at me.

“You know what, I don’t think I will ask you,” he sniffed haughtily as he took his last bite of food.

Playing along, I shrugged. “Fine. Doesn’t matter to me.”

With a mock kick under the table, Ben scowled. “Stop being a dick. You’re ruining this for me.”

I laughed. “Sorry, I forgot you like the cutesy stuff.”

“You’re so mean!” He crossed his arms across his chest. “Maybe I’ll just go date Alice instead.”

Even the sound of her name leaving his mouth pissed me off, and I frowned.

Alice had been a pain in my ass ever since she filled my locker with glitter my sophomore year of high school. And now she had her eyes on Ben. Given Ben’s way-too-nice personality, letting her down easy hadn’t exactly gone as planned. After she’d successfully kissed him at her Thanksgiving weekend party, she’d gotten it in her head that they were an item and practically stalked him around school.

Suffice it to say, I did not like Alice.

“I call bullshit,” I sneered as Ben arched a golden eyebrow. “You’re way too scared of her.”

His lips pursed in displeasure, and I cackled. He couldn’t deny it because we both knew he’d be lying. Ever since Alice’s party, he’d taken to hiding behind me anytime he caught sight of her in the hallway or lunchroom.

“She’s… tenacious.”

I snorted, and we both broke into childish snickers. Tenacious was a kinder word than I wanted to use.

“And you’re a wuss,” I said playfully

“Why am I even asking you out? All you do is abuse me.”

With a wicked smirk, I waved my hand over myself with a flourish. “Because I have a very nice face.”

The faux-fight ended as Ben burst into laughter, his cheeks apple-red. I joined him, reaching out to take his hand in mine, thumb tracing the bumps of his knuckles.

“We could be boyfriends,” I said, causing Ben’s laughter to fade instantly. “If you want, I think that would be kind of awesome.”

With the fondest smile, he stood and stepped around the table separating us. One hand clinging to mine, the other cupping my cheek, he bent down and kissed me. Soft and sweet. He tasted like coffee and chocolate chip pancakes. I sighed into his mouth.

When we parted, he whispered, “Told you you’d be good at the cutesy stuff.”

“Shut up,” I whispered back.

He pecked my mouth again before returning to his seat, fingers still twined with mine. “I think it would be kind of awesome too.”

“Cool,” I said, voice embarrassingly breathy.

In an unexpectedly tender gesture, Ben drew my hand to his face and pressed the sweetest kiss to my palm. His breath fanned over my skin, and goosebumps pebbled along my arms.

“You wanna get outta here?” he asked against the skin of my palm.

I nodded, more than ready to get away from prying eyes. We shrugged on our coats, and I fumbled with my wallet. Ben stopped me.

“My treat.”

“Thanks.” I tucked my money away and waited at the door for him to pay at the register.

The dining room was filling with churchgoers now, and I grimaced as I squeezed through the crowd slowly forming near the door. We’d picked the right time to leave.

As Ben followed me outside, a finger curled around my pinkie, the touch intimately familiar. Once we cleared the door, I fastened our hands firmly, and he grinned at the ground as we walked back to his car.

He opened my door for me, and I rolled my eyes, pretending it didn’t warm my chest pathetically.

Before I could sit down, Ben caught me around my waist and kissed me again.

“You have coffee breath,” I mumbled against his lips.

“Deal with it,” he said.

And then he kissed me again and then again, coffee breath be damned.