And there it is. The plastic smile slips. The curious gaze drops. Yep, suddenly, he doesn’t seem so admiring.
“What about you?” I ask, redirecting the conversation before it gets painful. “Your gift can’t be that you’re some clinical Adonis.”
“Adonis? Ha. Not exactly, but close.”
I lift a brow and wait, refusing to let him off the hook.
He looks away, and yes, something about the vulnerable shift of his expression is also extremely attractive. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m here for the wrong ailment.
“It sounds stupid, complaining about being liked, but it’s not what it seems.”
“People think the same about my ability. It’s not a gift when you can’t escape it.”
Our eyes lock, and my pulse picks up again. It helps to remember the angry girlfriend stewing in the other room. Is she even his girlfriend? My only basis for that assumption are two passing glances and a strong cliché.
“It’s complicated, but basically my endocrine system messes with the chemicals in other people’s heads. It makes me irresistible or something. I know that sounds weird.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, thanking the stars for whacky endocrine systems. At least I’m not losing my mind like I thought. “So you’re like some souped-up queen bee?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I mean… I guess? But can we not describe it that way?”
I crack a grin, but it disappears as I consider his situation. “Actually, that sounds pretty awful. You’d never know if anyone genuinely cared about you.”
His own amusement fades, and I can tell I’ve struck something. That I’m really good at. Reading people. Killing moods.
“It gets hard, yeah. But hey, it could be worse. I could make everyone hate me.” He points to the wall separating my room from the other bedroom.
“Daniel? That’s his gift?”
I’d love to know how Clausen spins that one into “special.”
A dimple appears in Ben’s cheek when his grin returns. Dimples, even? Geez. “Nah, I’m pretty sure alienating the masses is just a practiced talent. No one knows his real gift. He keeps to himself and everyone returns the favor. No one knows much about him.”
“How’s that possible? How long has he been here?”
“Forever. Longer than any of us, at least. You’ll understand when you meet him. If you’re lucky, that won’t be for a while.”
I try to return his reassuring smile, but… curiosity. Intrigue. Mystery. Yep, I’m definitely hooked. Crap. I shove that away too.
“I don’t think anything could be worse than living on the outside where you feel completely alone,” I say, tracing the edge of my suitcase.
“Try being surrounded by smothering fans motivated by a chemical imbalance in their brains.”
I glance up, studying him again. “Yeah, okay. Point taken. What about Laura? Smothering fan or genuine girlfriend?”
“Laura hated me when we met. That’s how I knew we were soulmates.”
“She doesn’t seem to know that.”
He smiles again, and I can’t help but wonder what his smile would look like without my brain telling me it’s a sparkling rainbow sunrise. Maybe he’s actually a hideous slime bucket that looks nothing like the image in my head. Yeah, I’m starting to get his dilemma.
“I don’t know why she gets insecure, but she’ll warm up,” he says. “What about you? Any boyfriend or broken hearts you left behind?”
I huff a laugh. “No. Definitely not. Hey, maybe she’s just tired of swatting away your crushes all the time,” I add to redirect us back to anything besides my impossible love-life.
“Only the weak ones get sucked in. The strong ones can fight the attraction and recognize it for what it is.”
“Really? Good to know. Which type am I?”
