“Isn’t that something for me to figure out?” Ben counters, lifting his jaw. “I like you and so far you’ve snuck off twice, then blown me off in a text. What am I supposed to think?”
“See, disappointment. Exactly.” I nod glumly, gazing at Ben. He looks brilliant, even when he’s upset with me.
Ben makes a sound. He folds his arms across his chest. “No, mate. That’s a cop-out. That’s what that is.”
“I have an…anxiety disorder,” I blurt. Words tumble out, a slick of them like an oil spill. “I have an actual letter that says I’m mad. I take meds and go to therapy and try to keep to a routine because it’s less likely I’ll fuck up again like I’ve done in the past. Like getting kicked out of school or getting into drugs and…disappointing my family all over again. Supposedly routines help.”
I haven’t told him my family includes my daughter and best friend, Emily. How could I even begin to explain that?
Ben blinks. He stares at me for a long moment, letting my words sink in. “Shit, Charlie. I didn’t know. And you didn’t tell me. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
I gulp. “Because I figured you wouldn’t want to be with someone like that. That this would only last for a day or two and that’d be it. And then you’d find someone else instead who’s a proper adult and has their shit together. Unlike me. I don’t feel like I’ve got anything under control, to be honest.”
“And what did I just tell you?”
“That’s something for you to figure out?”
“Aye. You’re learning.” Ben looks satisfied. A hint of a smile is on his lips. “We all have things, Charlie. Every last one of us.”
I swallow hard. “I’ve…I’ve never met anyone like you before. Who sees things like you do.”
Ben gives a wry smile. “I say you need to be open-minded to what you don’t know.”
He’s right. I think of Ben wrapped in wool, of being pulled tight in my scarf as we kissed that first day in the snow at the café. I think of all the million ways he’s shown kindness and interest.
And then I ran off like a coward.
I fumble in my pockets. “I’m so sorry.”
“Ach.”
But he still stands with his arms across his chest.
I fumble in my pockets, embarrassed, but I’m all in now. God help me. I’ll make myself silly several times over for Ben. “I made this for you. Because I couldn’t find words. When I couldn’t sleep. When I was up all night thinking of what a mess I was and how brilliant you’d been.”
Ben’s eyebrows lift.
“Don’t worry,” I say quickly. “It’s not fancy. It’s a bit silly, honestly.”
“I love silly,” Ben assures me.
Screwing up my face and sucking back air, I present him with a USB stick. More like shoved it into his hand. Reflexively, he grabs the small plastic case.
“It’s admittedly a rather shit presentation for a mixtape, but we’re not in the eighties and I didn’t have a cassette player kicking about. Plus we’re not inSay Anythingand I’m not John Cusack blasting tunes to win you back. But I could do that, if it helps.” I look hopefully at him.
Ben gawps for a moment, then recovers. His face softens as he studies the USB stick. My chest thumps a beat.
“It’s a bit random. Some Smiths. Some Joy Division. A little bit of Tears for Fears. And, um, Peter Gabriel, which is really proof of how much I’m into you. Just don’t let me give youThe Best of Sting.”
Ben steps up to me, delighted. He takes my face between his hands and gives me such a thorough kiss that we could melt the snow right where we stand.
And that’s more than okay.
Chapter Twenty-Two
After more snogging, we gaze at each other on the street. I’m a bit dizzy from the combination of his kisses and letting my emotions come to the surface. Ben’s fresh-faced, also trying to catch his breath. Cars hiss past as we stand on the snow-packed pavement. The dark night is soft overhead and clouds reflect the city’s glow.
“I’m amazed you came tonight, to be honest.” Ben’s face is soft. Vulnerable in a way I haven’t seen before. “I thought I wouldn’t see you again.”
