Chapter 26
Zoe
We don’t have sex on Friday night—we’re too stuffed with lobster—but I still fall asleep in Bennett’s bed. It only feels natural.
When I wake up on Saturday morning, he’s holding me from behind, and I smile in contentment before rolling over.
“Happy birthday,” I say.
He smiles back at me.
If only it were easier to capture his smile in a picture. Instead, it’s a fleeting gift.
He pulls me close and kisses me. I don’t think I’ll ever take kissing for granted again. His kisses begin slowly today—the kisses of a lazy weekend morning—but they’re still all-consuming. I can feel them down to my toes. I wrap a leg around his thigh and rock myself against him.
“Zoe.” He slides a hand under my T-shirt and strokes his thumb over my breast, pulling a moan from my mouth. His lips shift to my neck, but a moment later, his mouth is back on mine; he can never stay away for long, not anymore.
I press myself against his hardening cock. His hand slips beneath the elastic band of my pajamas. If he would just…
There. He runs his finger over my pussy, and I make a noise that’s utterly obscene.
“I love how desperate you are,” he murmurs against my mouth.
He slips two fingers inside me, and I turn my head away from him and cry out.
“Please,” I whimper.
He adds another finger. I can hear how wet I am as he strokes in and out. He shifts his thumb to my clit and rubs gentle circles around it, all while continuing to kiss my lips.
I hump his hand, so close to climaxing. I adjust the angle slightly, and when his tongue touches mine…
I scream, the suddenness of my orgasm catching me by surprise.
“Yes,” he whispers. “That’s it.”
I rarely come just from a man’s fingers, but Bennett can play me like nobody else.
“You know,” I say, “it’s your birthday.”
“I’m aware. It’s a gift to pleasure you.”
“If you insist.”
He removes my pajama pants and underwear before diving between my legs. He’s gentle at first, but then he increases his pace and touches my clit directly. I writhe against him and grip the sheets. Just when the pressure within me is about to burst, he stops.
“You’re so mean,” I whine.
“It’s my birthday,” he replies solemnly, his lips coated in my moisture. I swear there’s an evil grin lurking behind his serious expression.
Fortunately, he wastes no time in rolling on a condom and positioning himself at my entrance. When I twist against him in desperation, he slides inside, and with his finger on my clit and his mouth on my lips, I cry out again.
He puts one arm under my ass, adjusts the angle, and fucks me roughly. I’m so overwhelmed that I can barely see straight. I say his name, but everything that follows is a stream of nonsense. All I know is that this is amazing. God, he’s amazing, and I never want to let go.
I wrap my legs around his back and urge him on. He comes inside me with a strangled sound, his mouth a hair’s breadth from mine, before he kisses me again and again and again.
The first time with him was wonderful, and somehow, it’s only gotten better.
And in a couple of days, I’m leaving.
When we finally head downstairs at nine thirty, I pull two wrapped gifts from their hiding spot.
“Open the smaller one before we start the coffee,” I say.
Bennett looks skeptical but humors me, untying the big bow around the first box. The paper is navy with silver stars—it seemed appropriate for him. He opens the old shoe box to reveal a bag of very fine coffee beans, which I think will be to his taste, as well as…
“This is the most offensive mug I’ve ever seen,” he says.
There are no swear words on the mug. Instead, there’s a joyous llamacorn wearing bells. It’s rubbing noses with a reindeer. Behind them, two penguins are sliding down a rainbow.
“Isn’t it amazing?” I gush. “You’ll think of me whenever you use it.”
“Indeed, I will. I’m not sure who else I could possibly think of.”
“You seemed jealous of my llamacorn mug, so I had to get you your own.”
“How sensible of you.”
I beam at him. “Now, let’s make some coffee and wash your mug so you can enjoy it immediately. Then you can open your other present.”
A few minutes later, my llamacorn mug is lined up next to his, and the coffeemaker is on. I sit down at the kitchen table and hand Bennett the other gift, which is larger and heavier.
“I have no idea what this could be,” he says.
Mittens walks into the kitchen and climbs onto my lap, as if she, too, is curious about the gift. It’s the first time she’s sat on me, and I smile.
Bennett rips off the paper, revealing the artificial table-top Christmas tree that I bought for him a few days ago.
“I thought this was a safe way to ease you into the holiday spirit,” I say. “I was going to get a flocked one, but apparently the fake snow can be bad for cats, so I didn’t.”
“Thank you,” he says.
Mittens meows and jumps onto his shoulder.
The sight of Bennett with a cat crawling on him and a Christmas tree in his hands—something I couldn’t have imagined when we first met—is beyond precious. Tears gather in my eyes.
I blink them back and head to the fridge. “I’m making Hong Kong–style French toast.”
He mentioned once that his mom used to make it when he was a kid, but knowing Bennett, it’s probably an indulgence he doesn’t prepare for himself now.
I focus on the task at hand, trying to lose myself in the steps, but I can’t help occasionally stealing glances at my fake boyfriend. When he sips coffee out of his Christmas llamacorn mug, the pain in my chest only gets more intense.
I can’t bear the thought of saying goodbye, but I also can’t bear the thought of rejection, and that makes me put off my question.
We eat breakfast and clean up the kitchen. Bennett insists on helping, even though it’s his birthday, but when his phone beeps twice, he takes it out of his pocket.
“It’s Ginny’s brother. Wishing me a happy birthday.” Bennett scrubs a hand over his face. “He’s like a younger brother to me. I talk to him more than Clifton. Which, of course, is another thing that Clifton holds against me.”
I recall a conversation from last month. “Is he the one who’s getting married? The friend who asked you to be in his wedding party?”
“Yes.”
It’s very sweet, the relationship he still has with her family.
But it’s not good for the ache in my chest.
That evening, Bennett goes to see a friend, and I have dinner at Eddie and Chantal’s. I tell them about the lobster meal as we scarf down Vietnamese takeout at their kitchen table.
“I’ve always wanted to go there,” Eddie says.
“It was amazing,” I say, “and Clifton clearly wasn’t enjoying himself, which made it even better.”
“But?” Chantal says.
“But what?” I ask.
“Something’s wrong.”
“Why do you say that?”
She gives me a look. “Zoe, I’ve known you for seven years.”
“Eddie’s known me for my whole life.” And he’s not saying anything…yet.
He taps a finger against his chin. “She’s right. Something’s off. Just like that time in grade nine when—”
“Please.” I’m not in the mood to hear about my previous failures.
He doesn’t finish his sentence, but his expression goes unusually dark. “What has Bennett done to you?”
Oh dear. Not the older-brother routine.
“Nothing!” I say cheerfully.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What are you talking about?”
He gestures at my face. “You’re forcing yourself to smile, but you’re not really smiling.”
“This is just how I smile.”
“No, it’s not.”
I glance at Chantal, but she doesn’t back me up.
“What is it?” Eddie’s using his gentle tone now, which means he’s really worried.
Ugh. I feel like I’ve been pushed into a corner.
“I might have fallen in love with him.” It’s the first time I’ve admitted it out loud. “We started spending lots of time together. Sleeping together.” I don’t share details, of course. It would feel weird with Chantal and Eddie. “I wish it wasn’t an act.”
“Does he feel the same way?” Eddie asks.
“I think so? But I’m not sure. His fiancée died in an accident when he was twenty-four.”
Chantal puts a hand to her mouth, and Eddie touches her shoulder.
“He hasn’t dated anyone since,” I say. “I’m not sure if he sees that changing, or…” I shake my head. “I just don’t know. Plus, it is a little weird that he’s Clifton’s brother, and I told myself that I’d enjoy my single life for a while. But I do feel like he cares for me.”
I smile as I think of Bennett setting up the tiny Christmas tree this afternoon. How careful he was when hanging the ornaments I’d given him.
“I thought you said he was a little…” Eddie makes some vague gesture. “I can’t remember what words you used, but he didn’t seem all that friendly when we met.”
“Well, I misjudged him.”
“You’re moving out next week, right?” Chantal says.
“Yeah,” I say, “and I’m not looking forward to it.”
“You can tell him how you feel then, and if he turns you down, it’ll minimize the awkwardness.” She takes my hand. “But I suspect he feels the same way.”
“Why do you say that?”
She shrugs. “He sounds like the sort of guy who rarely opens up to anyone. The sort of guy who’d normally hate having someone else in his space, and yet…”
“He did, at the beginning, but this was him earlier today.” I take out my phone and show them a picture of Bennett drinking from his new mug. There’s nothing that could be considered a smile happening on his face, but still. I’m overcome with affection when I see him.
I truly want to be with this man for real. Chantal’s words have helped assure me that my hopes are reasonable, but I won’t know until I ask.
“Speaking of magical creatures,” Eddie says, “don’t forget to take your old diaries.”
“Right!” I say. “That slipped my mind.”
“I got glitter all over my hands just from putting them in a bag.”
“Are you sure you didn’t read them?”
He gives me a look. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“I know, I know.”
“But Mom tried to read one out loud while I was there and—”
“What?!” I shriek.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I shut that down quickly. It was particularly painful, given that she was trying to imitate your voice when you were nine years old.”
“Uh…”
“Yeah.” Eddie makes a face. “Whatever you’re imagining, make it ten times worse. I’m not sure my ears have recovered yet.” He shudders in an exaggerated fashion.
An hour later, I get ready to leave their apartment.
Eddie gives me a long hug and whispers, “I hope he deserves you,” and I smile.
I know my brother genuinely means that. Some people might think Bennett Chung is out of my league, but Eddie never would.
I’m in a good mood when I get home—I mean, when I return to Bennett’s. He’s not back yet, so I treat myself to a long bath, then climb into his bed and waste time on my phone.
When I hear the door open downstairs, I jump up and run to greet him. I think he’ll say yes if I ask him tonight, but there’s still a chance he won’t, and I don’t want to spoil his birthday.
Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow.