Chapter 12
Zoe
When I come downstairs on Thursday morning, Bennett is gone.
I breathe out a sigh of relief. Not that I expected to see him at this time, but I worried that after his poor night’s sleep, he might be more than a few minutes behind schedule. I’m not sure I could have handled seeing him, especially since I got no more than four hours of sleep myself.
I touch my cheek, remembering how it felt to have his hand there. I wanted him to kiss me, but he didn’t.
God, I can’t believe that I wanted Bennett Chung to kiss me.
Bennett isn’t quite who I expected him to be. Sure, he’s a bit starchy, but he does own casual clothes. He’s capable of smiling. He’s fond of his cat.
I still can’t fully describe what draws me to him, but I can’t deny that it’s happening.
And what, exactly, does he think about me?
I shouldn’t dwell on that.
At lunch, I leave the office to buy a pumpkin spice latte, and while I’m in line, I text Karina, asking if she’s free tomorrow for the happy hour drinks that we missed in September. She agrees.
When I arrive home—I mean, when I arrive at Bennett’s—I do a little looking for apartments. I find one that sounds perfect, except it’s not available until December 1.
I suppose I should see it anyway, and then I can discuss it with him.
He said I could stay a little longer than we initially agreed; he might allow me to stay an extra month.
Or if he won’t, maybe I can crash on Karina’s couch for several days, then Eddie and Chantal’s couch. That won’t be fun, but it’s doable.
After dinner, I’m about to return to my room when I hear the key in the lock. I stop at the base of the stairs.
“Hello!” I say.
Bennett looks slightly puzzled. Was I too enthusiastic? But I always sound enthusiastic in my greetings. It’s not out of character; it has nothing to do with our encounter last night.
He also looks more tired than he usually does at the end of the day, though I wouldn’t notice if I didn’t know him so well.
Okay, I can’t exactly say I know him well, but I do see him every day.
“Hi, Zoe,” he says at last.
I wonder if he’s been thinking about touching my cheek as much as I’ve been thinking about it. Probably not. I should just chalk it up to something weird that happened in the middle of the night. Something that would never happen during the day.
But my hand goes to my cheek before I can stop it, and Bennett notices. His eyes narrow, and he stalks to the kitchen without another word.
My pulse thundering, I hurry up the stairs.
I meet Karina at a steampunk bar in the Annex, and we sit under a giant blimp on the first floor.
I love themed bars. This one is located in a red-brick Victorian mansion, and it has a great vibe.
It’s named Nautilus, after the submarine in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, but the last time I was here with Karina, she mentioned that a nautilus is a type of sea creature, which I hadn’t known.
Sometimes I forget about my friend’s background in marine biology—it’s unrelated to what she does now, and she rarely talks about it.
I order a seasonal drink with apply brandy and spices, and Karina orders a drink that is, honest-to-god, gray. It looks unappetizing to me, but she seems to enjoy it.
“You know,” I say as I lean back in my chair, “this place has a couples Halloween costume contest at the end of the month.”
“Absolutely not,” Karina says.
“I didn’t even ask! I knew you’d say no.”
“Get your fake boyfriend to do it.”
“He said no as well.”
“Sensible man,” she says.
I picture Bennett in a perfectly pressed dress shirt, top button open; the image is far too tantalizing, and I feel a flush of heat. “That sensible man is causing me all sorts of problems.”
She frowns. “What’s he doing?”
“I think I like him,” I say mournfully.
“What do you mean by ‘like’? People use that word to describe a wide range of feelings.”
I fiddle with the garnish on my glass. “I enjoy hanging out with him.”
“You enjoy hanging out with most people.”
“And I’m attracted to him.” I shake my head. “He’s Clifton’s brother. It’s all wrong.”
“I assume you feel this way just because you’re spending a lot of time together. Doesn’t mean anything will happen.”
I shouldn’t feel a prick of disappointment at her words, but I do. “On Sunday, he stroked my arm, and I’m still thinking about it.”
“Why was he stroking your arm?”
“To prove he could touch me for our act. It was…” I shake my head again. “Amazing.”
“That good, eh?”
“I don’t understand. I’m completely off men, after what happened with Clifton. I plan to wait another six months before I think about dating again.”
“No shit. That experience would turn me off dating forever.”
When I think of Clifton, I inevitably think of Macy, and if Macy and I were still friends, I’d be talking to her about this.
I wish I’d never told her anything.
“Look,” Karina says. “Don’t feel guilty about your attraction. It’s not a big deal. I’ve definitely been attracted to men I didn’t want to find attractive.”
“Like who?”
She doesn’t answer my question. “But some men are better admired from afar, you know? Fiona might disagree, but I think this would be too messy.”
“If only I’d just admired Clifton from a distance.”
Then I never would have met Bennett.
Which would be for the best. It would definitely be for the best.
But…
“Actually, I really am glad it all went down like that,” I say.
She looks at me skeptically.
“I mean, it’s good that I got to see Macy’s true colors now. Without Clifton, I’m not sure when I would have realized the truth about her.” As painful as it was, I can’t imagine still living in ignorance. Better to move on sooner rather than later.
“You don’t have to put a positive spin on everything.”
“I know, but it’s natural for me!”
Karina chuckles. I think she’s amused by my upbeat tone.
“Anyway,” I say, not wanting to think about Clifton and Bennett any longer, “what should we do for our next movie theme?”
“I want to watch Aliens again.”
“I’ll come up with a theme that fits.”
When I return to Bennett’s that evening, I add my suggestion to the group chat.
Me: Aliens in the eighties. ET + Aliens. What do you think?
Fiona: What about Sigourney Weaver in space? Aliens and Galaxy Quest.
Karina: Sorry, Zoe, I think I’ll have to go for that one.
Me: How much time does Sigourney Weaver spend in space in Galaxy Quest?
Dawn: I don’t know. I’ve never seen it.
Claire: What about old movies with technology? I’ve never watched The Net, but I bet it’s unintentionally hilarious now.
Dawn: Computers in the 90s?
Claire: Or computer movies that are at least 30 years old? The Net + War Games?
Dawn: Is that Matthew Broderick??
Fiona: I’m not giving up on Sigourney Weaver, sorry.
Karina: THANK YOU
The conversation gets a bit heated, but in a light-hearted way. It’s a good distraction from thinking about those silly Chung brothers, although “silly” is the last word that anyone would use to describe Bennett.
Saturday morning, I rush down the stairs. I should have left ten minutes ago. Shit!
As I turn at the bottom of the staircase, I smack into something hard. Two hands reach out to steady my shoulders.
“You’re in a hurry,” Bennett says as he steps back.
I miss the heat of his body, which is ridiculous.
“Yes!” I say. “I’m going to see an apartment, and I just realized there’s a TTC closure, so I should have already left. It’ll take longer than usual to get there.”
Bennett is wearing khakis, a button-down shirt, and a maroon sweater. And a serious expression, of course.
“Do you want me to drive you?”
“What?” I ask.
“Would you like a ride?”
Oh. That’s what I thought he said, but I was busy ogling him—I mean, worrying about my lateness—so I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly.
“You don’t need to,” I reply.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it.”
He sounds deliciously stern. I mean, just stern. And that’s not a thing that does it for me. Absolutely not.
“I’m going shopping now anyway,” he says. “Where’s the apartment?”
I tell him the intersection, and he assures me that it’s not out of the way.
“Besides,” he adds, “this benefits me, too.”
Right. Because he wants me to move out so he can have his house to himself.
I refuse to have any feelings about that.
Ten minutes later, he backs his car—not the convertible—out of the garage. I climb into the back seat, deciding to put as much distance between us as possible.
“You don’t have to worry,” he says as he drives down the street. “I won’t touch you again unless it’s for our act. It was inappropriate, and I’m sorry.”
I don’t know how to respond, so I say nothing. He’s right: it shouldn’t happen again. Yet I yearn for more. I remind myself of what Karina said—it’s probably just because we see so much of each other—but my body protests.
“To clarify,” he continues, “I’m talking about the other night. Not this morning. You barreled into me, so I couldn’t prevent myself from touching you.”
Well, this is getting awkward.
“I understand,” I say.
When I return to Bennett’s, it’s almost two o’clock and I’m famished. I’ve only eaten a granola bar, but I’m in a great mood.
“I got the apartment!” I tell him. He’s reading in the front room.
I spin around and do a little dance, and the man actually smiles.
He must be glad he’s getting rid of me soon. However…
“There’s one problem,” I say.
He puts a bookmark in his book and sets it aside. “If there’s something wrong with the place, you didn’t—”
“The lease starts on December first.” I haven’t actually signed it yet, but the landlord really liked me, and I filled out the application form. She said if everything checked out, the place was mine.
“That’s okay,” Bennett says. “You can stay here until then.”
“Are you sure? I can spend a couple of weeks with Eddie and—”
“I have a guest room with a proper bed. There’s no need for you to sleep on your brother’s couch.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
He nods briskly, as if that’s all settled, and picks up his book again, but I do have one more thing to tell him.
“I got you a gift,” I say.
“A gift?”
“Yes. It’ll just take a few minutes to prepare. You can come to the kitchen whenever you’re done reading.”
I grab my bags and skip to the kitchen. It was an impulsive purchase, and to be honest, I’d intended to keep it in my room, but when I saw Bennett, in that sweater and collared shirt, I changed my mind.
By the time I arrange everything, my stomach is growling. I really do need to eat lunch. It’s almost two hours later than I usually eat, and I woke up too late for breakfast.
That’s when I notice the note on the counter. Bennett has written me a note! It says to help myself to the food on the stove. His handwriting is angular and efficient, and there are, of course, no smiley faces or doodles.
Delighted, I serve myself some rice from the rice cooker, as well as some of the stir-fry from the wok. I microwave it briefly, my mouth watering. I’m not too fussed about how good the food is—I just desperately need sustenance—but it’s delicious.
Bennett strides into the kitchen and stops in front of the table. “What on earth…?”
“It’s your new centerpiece!” I say. “Thank you for the food, by the way. It’s very…”
My voice trails off because he’s paying no attention to my words. No, he’s focused on what I’ve put on the table.
“Decorative gourds,” I explain. “I took a long time selecting ones that match your spirit.”
“Of course you did.”
He sounds mildly horrified, and honestly, I live for making Bennett Chung mildly horrified. I enjoy getting little reactions out of him. While I wouldn’t have done something like this when I first moved in, I now know him well enough to be sure he does get some amusement out of such antics.
“I understand the gourds,” he says. “A seasonal display. What I don’t understand is why they have googly eyes on them.”
“Googly eyes make everything better.”
“Right.” There’s a deep level of skepticism in his voice.
It feeds my soul.
I shove some rice into my mouth and swallow before speaking again. “I’ll give you the honor of naming them.” I gesture grandly.
I don’t expect him to actually do this. I assume he’ll raise an eyebrow and walk away, while I chuckle in his wake, but instead he says, “Tom, Dick, and Harry.”
“Which is which?”
“Tom.” He points to one with a round green bottom and an orange top. “Dick.” He points to an orange gourd with lots of bumps that is amusingly phallic in nature. I’ve placed the googly eyes on the curved tip. “Harry.” The last gourd is squat with green stripes.
“Is there a reason you chose ‘Dick’ for the orange one?”
“Of course there is, Zoe.” He gives me a look. “I’m a very deliberate man.”
I laugh as he walks out of the room. I assume he’s planning to make an important call, iron every shirt in his closet, or similar.
If I’d shown up at Clifton’s with googly-eyed gourds, he would have just chuckled and moved on with life, but everything is so much more entertaining with Bennett.
When I wake up at three and can’t fall back to sleep, I find myself wondering about Bennett’s personal life.
How does he meet people? I doubt he uses an app.
I know he doesn’t introduce anyone to his parents, but does he date at all?
Does he have sex? Is my being here—and our supposed fake relationship—cramping his style?
I can’t help remembering that when we first met, I wasn’t attracted to him, but I thought it would be thrilling to get him undone.
And now, I feel that even more keenly.
I hear footsteps on the stairs, interrupting the dark silence of the house.
Bennett can’t sleep, either.
But this time, I’m not going to leave my room. I know nothing good can come of seeing him in the middle of the night.
Instead, I imagine that rather than going downstairs, he came into my bedroom and got into bed with me, his large hands cupping my cheeks before sliding under my shirt to pleasure me with quiet enthusiasm and precision.
I picture his mouth: a devastating quirk of his lips, followed by the brush of his tongue between my legs.
I’m about to grab one of my toys when I hear him coming upstairs.
Shit! I thought he’d stay down there for longer, but maybe he was just getting something to drink. Of course, he doesn’t know I was thinking about him, but it still feels wrong.
I keep myself very, very still until I hear his door shut.
Then, I finally feel like I can breathe again. Sort of.