“That’s fine. I’ll use the website,” I chirp. “I’m sure they’ll know who I’m talking about.”
I turn and walk out before she can smirk or stab me with a pen. I should be more upset, leaving him with that tight-skirted, emotionally-repressed boundary squatter, but I won’t need to worry about Susan much longer.
I’m gonna recommend they hire someone with real experience navigating volatile client dynamics. Someone with boundaries. Someone ugly.
And then, God is real and I am his slut, I see him.
Benji.
Smiling like I’m his favorite thing he’s seen all day.
Shit.
He’s happy to see me. He lights up. Like I’m the sunrise and not a walking red flag.
Rhys didn’t help with this part. Rhys said journal. He said boundaries. He said, fuck, what did he say? All I remember is wanting to straddle him and scream I have an emergency directly into his mouth.
But now Benji’s here and smiling and I love him.
“You getting off soon?” I ask, like I’m not mentally picturing him doing it with one hand braced against the shower wall.
Benji flushes, bless his soft golden soul. “Yeah, in about an hour. Gotta run and pick out supplies for my niece’s new hamster.”
Of course he’s that guy. The hamster guy. My ovaries make grabby hands like he just invited me to a naked picnic and not aisle six at Rodent Depot. “That sounds disturbingly wholesome. Can I come anyway?”
He smiles like I’m the most adorable decision he’s ever made. “To the pet store?”
“Yes, Benji. I’m the hamster whisperer. I’ve been banned from three malls, once dated a guy named after a reptile, and Trevor the emotional support gerbil still writes to me from witness protection.” I pause and add, “Also, you said come. And now I’m thinking about it again. Rude.”
“You’re amazing,” he says.
Stop that. That’s how girls get rawed in the pet store parking lot. “That’s rich, coming from the man who introduced my G-spot to astrology.”
We spend the rest of his shift with me tailing him like a feral cat in heat, offering a running commentary on his ass that makes him blush so hard I start worrying about his blood pressure.
Benji clocks out while I loiter like a sex goblin with a mission. I’m definitely not wishing this will coincide with Rhysleaving the building. I’m just saying if he does see me leaving with another man, he can go ahead and spiral.
I leave my car parked like a dropped glove beside Rhys’s, bold, brazen, begging to be noticed, and slide into Benji’s passenger seat without a single backward glance.
Let him pace. Let him wonder. Let him stew in his brooding Therapist Thoughts while my car sits there like a challenge he’s not allowed to touch.
The pet store smells like rabbit hay and rodent trauma. I’m immediately in love.
Benji heads toward the hamster supplies like a responsible adult. I head straight for the reptile aisle like a woman who’s Googled “emotional support alligator” more than once.
“Do you think this snake would eat me?” I ask, tossing a container of crickets into the tank like I’m sacrificing a virgin.
Benji glances over. “That’s for the bearded dragon.”
I maintain eye contact with the lizard. “He knows what he did.”
“Which of these is healthiest?” he asks, holding two identical bags of hamster food.
I snatch one from his hand and sniff it. “This one’s Dudley. He’s been through something. You can tell from the oat-to-pellet ratio. The hamster will like it.”
“You name hamster food?”
“I name everything.” I point at a guinea pig in the next pen. “That one’s James. He has enemies. Hold him carefully.”
