Chapter 24
I’ve been nervous all week about my date with Ben. He was one hundred percent correct in assuming that I would want to know where we were going. I like to know what the expectation is so I can prepare, walk through all possible scenarios in my head in the hopes that nothing catches me by surprise.
Reluctantly, I will admit that it was very kind of Ben to offer to prepare me. It was not kind, however, to tell me that wherever we’re going doesn’t require clothing.
Every night this week I’ve had a nightmare about being on very public dates with some faceless man.
We are at a bar or a hockey game or a movie, having a great time until I look down and realize that I’m completely naked.
As soon as I notice, everyone else in the dream world begins to notice too, pointing and laughing at me until I wake myself up, completely soaked in sweat.
It’s really fun to be me.
I don’t really have time to go on dates—or to be losing sleep—either because classes start back up in a few weeks and I should be preparing. I need to purchase my textbooks, print out the syllabi, check in with my advisor about—
A knock startles me out of my thoughts and my heart skips a beat knowing who is on the other side of that door. It’s midmorning and I have no idea how long we are going to be gone. I should text Thea and ask if she can come let Ernest out if I’m gone too long.
I’m drafting the text when I open the door to let Ben in.
His eyes instinctively dip down to my ring finger, but the engagement ring is tucked back in my drawer after he caught me wearing it last week.
“Hold on, I need to text Thea about letting Ernest out and then we can go. Does this outfit work, by the way?”
I’m wearing my denim shorts, a black lace-trimmed tank top, and my Doc Marten’s.
My hair is tied up in my signature ponytail, and I can feel Ben’s eyes as he takes his time looking me up and down before giving me a nod and a boyish grin.
“You look great. Do you have a swimsuit? Also, we’re going to drop Ernest off at my parents house so don’t worry about texting Thea. ”
“That is—I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”
He shrugs. “You won’t. My dad loves dogs, and they have a big backyard he can run around in. We have a bit of a drive so I figured that was better than Ernest being alone all day.”
I inhale, shaking my head. “That’s really thoughtful. Thank you.”
“Of course.” He holds his hand in front of him, two fingers raised. “Two things though. One, I’d grab a bathing suit. Just in case you’re worried about the no clothes thing. Two, we aren’t leaving until you have a ring on your finger.”
“Benjamin,” I scoff.
“Redddd,” Ben sing-songs, dragging the nickname out into two syllables.
“I’m not wearing that ring in public.”
“No ring, no date,” he replies, noncommittally. I hate how he always seems so unaffected. “Plus, I already told you we won’t be in public.”
“Are we breaking in somewhere? Doing something illegal? I can’t do illegal things or they won’t let me finish my degree.” I’m rambling. I know I’m rambling, but I cannot fathom putting that ring on and walking out of my apartment.
“Bathing suit. Ring.” He shoos me away from him, both of his hands flicking toward me.
I look at his hands in disgust—I cannot believe he’s shooing me!—but that disgust quickly dissipates as I remember how large and veiny his hands are. They are very nice hands… I deflate, knowing I’m going to do what he’s asked of me.
Shuffling back into my bedroom, I pull a red bikini out of my dresser before reluctantly finding the ring and slipping it on my finger.
When I get back to the kitchen, Ben has leashed Ernest and is packing a grocery tote with dog toys, Ernest’s water bowl, and the remaining fancy treats that Ben previously bought.
“Anything else you think he might need today?” he asks.
Looking around the living room, I locate Ernest’s raggedy stuffed rabbit that he’s had ever since I adopted him.
It’s only got one eye, and I’ve sewn the tail back on multiple times, but it’s his favorite and I can’t bring myself to replace it.
“That should be everything,” I say, stuffing the rabbit into Ben’s bag.
“Excellent.” Ben grins, not being discrete about checking my hand. “Let’s head out.”
We load into Ben’s car, which is surprisingly nice. Leather seats, a large screen that automatically connects to his phone without any sort of cord, and… “Is that air conditioning cooling my seat?”
Ben just laughs, his arm coming to rest on the seat behind me as he skillfully maneuvers out of his parallel parking spot. “Why do you have such a nice car?” I push. “I don’t want Ernest to fuck anything up in here.”
Ernest perks up, hearing his name, but then quickly smooshes his face back against the window—his favorite way to ride in a car.
“There’s nothing to mess up,” Ben shrugs. “It’s just a car, nothing fancy.”
“Nothing fancy? My temp-controlled ass would beg to differ,” I joke. “I’ve had the same car since high school though, so anything with working windows really feels like a luxury.”
“Yeah, I noticed you were still driving that piece of shit. Did they not pay you anything in your engineering job?”
“They paid me!” I can hear the defensiveness in my tone. “But it was expensive to live in California, and then when I realized I wanted to go back to school, I saved all of my money for that.”
“Fiscally responsible? Are you trying to turn me on?”
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot you were a Finance Bro. Seems so… counter to who you are.”
He laughs at that. “Really? How so?”
I shrug, jostling Ernest, who gives me a scathing look. “I’m pretty sure the definition of Finance Bro is a douche canoe that thinks too highly of himself.” I pause. “Actually, now that I’m saying it out loud, it’s a pretty accurate description of you.”
Ben’s hand clutches his chest dramatically. “Colette, you wound me.”
Before I can respond, we pull up in front of the Bardot family home. It’s a house that would be the perfect setting of any early aught primetime comedy, practically screaming that a functional, loving, and communicative family lives here. No shoving things under the proverbial rug in this house.
Wonder what that’s like. Quickly, I twist my ring around so it’s not as obvious on my finger. Ben clocks the movement, frown lines forming between his brows. In an extremely cowardly move, I hop out of the car before he has a chance to protest.
Elaine and Hugo are out on the porch as soon as my car door closes. “Hello, my cabbages!” Elaine calls, huge grin flashing from beneath her riot of curly gray hair.
“Did she just use a cruciferous vegetable as a pet name?” I ask a smirking Ben.
“It’s a French endearment,” Ben replies, but I don’t register anything other than the tingling sensation at the base of my spine where his hand now gently rests, urging me forward.
We’ve touched each other in downright indecent ways, but this, this small sign of affection, might be my undoing. I’m momentarily paralyzed until the tug of Ernest’s leash brings me back to the present.
He hops up the steps and into Elaine’s waiting arms. “Aren’t you the cutest boy I’ve ever seen?” she coos.
“Mom, not in front of Cole,” Ben teases.
She rolls her eyes. “You know full well I’m talking to the dog, Benoit Francis.”
My eyes widen, and I do my damndest to keep my mouth tightly clamped, not wanting to offend the elder Bardots. Ben sighs, turning to me. “You can laugh.”
I shake my head emphatically, not daring to open my mouth.
But the feeling of bubbled up laughter is hard to ignore.
He gives me a look that says he knows how much shit he’s going to get later, and then he puts that infuriating hand back on the small of my back.
With a quick “Bye, be back later!” called over his shoulder, we are back in the car and on the road again.
“Say it.”
“Say what?” I know exactly what.
“Go on,” he presses. “Make fun of my name.”
“Francis is a perfectly acceptable middle name,” I reply. “Does kind of ruin the Finance Bro image, though.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Wouldn’t want that.”
“Absolutely not.”
The rest of the ride goes by in companionable silence, only broken up by my occasional, “Are we there yet?” Asked only to piss Ben off just a little bit.
Ben, annoyingly, rolls with any and all punches thrown his way and just laughs every time I ask him how much longer.
We leave Sassafras and drive into the neighboring town that’s just slightly bigger.
After driving all the way through to the other side of town, I’m about to bug Ben about our ETA when he pulls to a stop in front of a building I can only describe as zen.
There’s an abundance of lush vegetation, a stream of water that trickles through gardens, and a stone path that leads up to a red brick building with a black-tile sloped roof. Bay State Bathhouse is written across a large plaque that’s nearly hidden amongst the foliage.
Panic gnaws at me because, “I can’t bathe with other people!”
Ben’s hand wraps around my clinched fist, prying it open and massaging gently. “Red, remember to trust me.”
His rhythmic circles across my palm have the intended effect. Taking a deep breath, I murmur “Fine,” and then open the car door to meet my fate.
“Trust,” Ben reminds me when he circles the car.
If only he knew how much I was trying.