I must admit that I felt a bit nervous about being alone with Benjamin. Not that I hadn't been that before. It was just different when it was in his own house.
"Wanna watch a movie?" he asked, looking kinda nervous himself. He rubbed his hands on his thighs, but I didn't know if it was because he was cold or sweaty. Mine were cold though, and when he saw me trying to blow hot air at them, he had a sudden change of heart.
"Nevermind. Let's go into the kitchen," he said, and made me follow him.
"Kitchen?"
"Do you like hot chocolate?"
"Uhm... Who doesn't?"
He looked at me and chuckled.
"I forgot that you were a chocoholic."
I pretended to get mad at him, but he was already on his way over to the cupboard to get two mugs. I sat down on a barstool on the kitchen island and watched him move around so smoothly it almost looked like he was floating above the ground.
"You should become a chef," I said, and made him turn his head. He smiled again. It seemed like he was always smiling. I'd never really seen him mad or sad before. Serious, yes, but a smile was always tugging at his lips right after. Not until what happened with Ryan tonight did I see him angry, and I hoped I didn't have to experience that again. Not because he was mad at me, even though he should be for messing up his evening with his friends. No, it was because I was the reason it happened. It almost made me feel that I didn't deserve the way he smiled at me right now.
"And you say that because I made you a cup of hot chocolate? I didn't even whip the cream myself."
He pointed at the box he held, before he filled my mug with a white lid of sweet foam that covered the brown liquid. Then he sat down on the barstool next to me and did the same with his own mug.
"No, everybody can do that," I said.
But he was quick to add:
"Except for my dad."
We giggled and took our first sip. Then we laughed more at the white mustaches we got afterwards.
"I don't know. You just seem so passionate about it. And you do make delicious food."
He stirred his hot chocolate with a spoon.
"Thanks. But I prefer cooking for my family."
Then he looked up and straight into my eyes.
"My own family."
He emphasized 'own' in a way that made me question whether he meant his sister and dad, or a future family with a wife and kids on his own. Anyone would be lucky to have a man like him as the head of the household, that's for sure.
"Yeah, same here," I said after another sip. He studied me while I licked my lips clean, and I felt a bit insecure when his focus still lingered on them after several seconds. Then he blinked and swallowed.
"You cook, too?"
"Yes."
"Hm," he said thoughtfully and tilted his head backwards a bit to study me over the bridge of his nose. "We better buy a huge kitchen, then."
My eyes widened and I let out a startled protest.
"I'm kidding, Mia! I didn't take you here to get into your pants. I'm not like that."
"Oh. That was...blunt," I mumbled with flushed cheeks. And I didn't know if I was blushing for assuming that he was hitting on me, or because a part of me wouldn't really mind. No! I did mind! I was still in love with Michael, and I would probably always be. Yet, the more time I spent with Benjamin, the more time I wanted to spend with him.
"Do you have any special Christmas cookies you use to bake?"
I was confused for a moment.
"Christmas..."
"...cookies, yes. Do you have any traditions of some sort? You know, the kind you always have to bake, because if you don't, Christmas won't be the same."
Childhood memories filled my mind and made my heart burst with nostalgia. That time of year had always been special to me. I didn't remember my first four Christmases, mostly because there weren't much to remember. And the little I did remember, was scribbled down in the book of memory loss. Chosen memory loss.
"My mom always makes a house of gingerbread. She has a homemade mold shaped just like our house, and she sometimes makes adjustments to show dad how she wants to expand the house. Dad just shakes his head at her, though. Especially when she made a dog kennel out of sugar sticks, in the pretend backyard. I think our neighbors should be glad that idea never came to life."
Benjamin laughed out loud.
"Then... Hm. Oh! We always make almond spritz cookies, only we shape them as mice. You see, my sister was six and wanted to know what the dough was made out of. So mom tried to explain that it was made out of almonds, and got frustrated when DeeVana couldn't remember what it looked like. And since her hands were dirty with dough so she couldn't start digging inside the kitchen cabinets, she made an almond shaped cookie to show her. Only, my sister thought it was a mouse and demonstrated it with a cut off rubber band for a tail, and one cent coins for ears. Then she poked out eyes and called it Mousie. Later we switched the rubber band to liquorice lace, and the ears into half-cut almonds, but we still call them Spritz Mousies to this day."
Benjamin chuckled, but looked a bit sad for a moment. Maybe he was reliving something from his own childhood? But I didn't get to ask, because it was gone right after.
"Do you remember the recipe?" he asked and turned to search for something in the cabinet next to their fridge. Then, when he'd found what he was searching for, he turned to me with a mischievous grin and held out two boxes of almonds.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Good. Because we're baking Spritz Mousies a'la Mia."
"Now?" I exclaimed wide-eyed.
"Yep. What else do we need? Sugar? Flour? Eggs? Butter?"
Damn. He already knew most of it.
"White and brown sugar, baking soda and vanilla extract. No eggs," I said and slowly walked over to him. I couldn't believe he wanted me to bake for him.
"Bowl, scale and measure cup. Anything else you need?" he grinned when he'd placed it all in front of me.
"A whisk?"
"Most certainly, my dear."
There was that British accent again, and this time I decided to play along.
"I thank thy, my noble knight, for helping out this damsel in distress."
Then I shrieked when he poked his fingers against my ribs as he reached around to get the whisk.
"Hey! You're supposed to save me, not assault me!" I whined. Then I screamed when he tickled me again.
"Stop it!"
"Not until you teach me your secret recipe."
He kept tickling me until I begged him for mercy, and I struggled to keep serious long enough to get the measurements right. Especially since Benjamin did all he could to distract me, either by throwing out random numbers while I counted out loud, or stealing the flour or the whisk right when I needed them. I scolded him several times, but I couldn't even stay strict for two seconds. It was the most fun I'd ever had in a kitchen.
"Oh, let me see you working that dough!" he murmured.
"Ahh, just like that. Slap it hard," he urged with a deep voice and a naughty grin, and it did something to me. I ignored it as best as I could and tried to push him away, but of course, since my hands were full of dough, it was to no avail. Instead he caged me in between two strong arms and groaned against my neck when I accidentally bumped my butt against his private area.
"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, but screamed when he tickled me again. The game was still on, and now he added flour into it.
"Not my hair!" I yelled, and he backed off a bit when he heard how serious I was. But the mischief in his eyes was still there while we stared each other down, waiting for the other to make the next move.
"How about your chin, then?"
He was so quick that, unless I hid my face into his chest, I had no chance of dodging his hand. Therefore I ended up getting flour on both my cheek and chin. So while Benjamin was busy laughing his ass off, I wiped my own hand across his face, smearing dough all over him.
"Revenge is sweet, isn't it?" I snickered. Then I screamed again.
"STOP TICKLING ME!"
"Never!"
"Stop! Please!" I laughed, as I gasped for air.
"I can't! My hands have a life of their own, and they simply can't resist you."
He stepped back when he saw my reaction, and our laughter stifled. Then we just looked at each other, until I cleared my throat to break the awkward spell.
"The mice... We should make the mice now," I stuttered. Then I focused on the dough again and prepared to slice it into smaller bites. I grabbed the knife next to me, but froze when I noticed Benjamin come closer. He was standing right behind me now, and his breathing was still a bit hectic from our little fight. Then I felt his hands on my hips and the now familiar magnetic pull that made my body sink into his even without him doing anything else.
"You know that you should never mess with someone holding a knife?" I asked, but my voice sounded like a whisper. I barely heard it above my heavy heart beats.
"I do," he murmured, but didn't retract. "And I also know that I didn't bring you here to take advantage of you. I meant that. You know that, right?"
I nodded slowly. Then I found myself turning around at the speed of the short arm of a clock. It felt like generations before I finally could look into his eyes and saw the usual glimpse I first now recognized as want. He wanted me.
"You're so beautiful, Mia," he whispered, and I felt his thumbs rub my hip bones so gently it sent shivers of electrical impulses throughout my entire nervous system. Once again I felt like I was swimming in his blue eyes and my body behaved like an unshapable jelly with a mind of its own. So when we gradually leaned closer, I had no control over what I was doing. I just needed to find out how it was to kiss him.
So I did.
The knife dropped to the ground the second his warm, moist lips touched mine. And they were so gentle that it hurt not getting to feel more of them. But when neither of us backed out, Benjamin got bolder and pulled me closer, and deepened the kiss until I moaned. It felt amazing. Soft lips, blue eyes, blonde hair... I needed to dig my fingers into that hair. I needed to brush through his curls and pull him closer. Curls... Dark curls... Long hair... Brown eyes...
Michael.
I pulled away like if I'd burned myself.
"I'm sorry!" Benjamin immediately exclaimed, but I just shook my head. He didn't do anything wrong. Not really.
"It's okay, Benjamin. Don't..."
"But I didn't mean to..."
"I know you didn't, and neither did I, but..."
"Fuck," he mumbled to himself, and turned away while he combed through his hair with the hand that was free of flour.
"The mice," I said after almost a minute of torturing silence. "I'll finish the mice now. You can help if you want?"
"Uhm. No. I need to... Uh... Toilet," he mumbled, and swung a thumb in the direction of the bathroom. And I was almost done when he came back with the most apologetic frown ever.
"Mia, I shouldn't have done that. I don't want to ruin anything between us. I just got upgraded from acquaintance to friend and everything."
I giggled.
"I'm sorry. Can we please pretend that never happened?" he asked at last. He begged me with his eyes, but I wasn't sure what to say anymore. Was it even necessary for him to apologize? It was just a kiss. I'd kissed Michael as well, and that was obviously 'just' a kiss too. At least to him. I wasn't seeing anyone. I wasn't cheating. I was just confused, because right now Benjamin stirred something within me that I'd been spending several months in trying to understand and put behind me. Only it didn't make me sad anymore. I just felt a strange longing. A longing after something or someone, and I wasn't sure if it was Michael anymore. That wasn't realistic anyway. But was it Benjamin?
"Do you have liquorice laces?" I asked dumbly.
"No."
"We should go to the store tomorrow, then."
Benjamin looked confused, and with good reasons. I didn't make much sense.
"We...?"
"And I owe you a beer," I continued, and he seemed more and more lost.
"A beer?"
"Yeah. You didn't get to finish your beer," I said silently. I felt the same strange sensation of being reeled in like a fish on a hook, and I could almost feel Benjamin's skin vibrate under his clothes when I stood in front of him.
"And what if I don't want that beer?"
His eyes looked apprehensive, and I knew he was frantically searching for what I was trying to say. But I didn't even know myself.
"Then... No beer."
Our eyes were locked until Benjamin swallowed and licked his lips, and he cast a brief glance at my mouth before he turned away. He was so tense you could cut the air around him with a sword.
"We were just acquaintances," I started, feeling the words roll out of my mouth before my brain had the time to think them.
"And now we're just friends. And that..."
Benjamin met my gaze again and he seemed stunned.
"That was just a kiss."
"What are you saying?" he asked lowly.
"I guess I'm trying to say that I'm fine with it."
"Oh," he said, with disappointment clearly evident in both his voice and body language.
"Why are you sad?" I asked, but he refused to look at me.
"Benjamin?"
It took a while before he answered, and when he did, he sounded defeated.
"I don't want you to be 'fine' with it."
"Why?"
"Because it meant something to me. A lot, actually. Mia..."
I hated the sadness that had ruined the sparkling blue in his eyes.
"I have feelings for you."
Five stupid words rang in my ears until they suddenly made sense, and the realization pushed me towards him, hard and fast, and I stumbled into his arms like I was fainting. Instead I closed my eyes and kissed him again, and he accepted me like I was the second half of his body.
All my life I'd struggled to deal with my feelings. No matter what I tried to do or wanted to decide, they always drifted their own stubborn way, and all I could do was to tag along. This time I wasn't tagging along. I was kissing Benjamin and it was my decision. And it was also my decision to pull back when I felt his body press against my own, leaving no doubt how my he desired me. I wasn't ready for that yet. I had been half a year ago, but now I needed more time. And Benjamin didn't seem to mind at all. He grinned from ear to ear and beamed brighter than the sun, when he rested his forehead against mine. Our breathing was labored and his body felt warm and safe, shielding me against all evil, and I let my arms rest on his toned chest with my palms gently caressing the skin on his neck.
"I can get used to this," he chuckled lowly, still consumed by euphoria. I just smiled. Then I pecked his lips a few times more, before he attacked me with a big smooch, causing us both to giggle.
"So does this mean that I upgraded again, or are we still just friends?"
I smiled, but I couldn't help the sting in my heart knowing that I still had feelings for another man. But that was history now. And I could have feelings for them both, right? I would still belong to Benjamin.
Belong to Benjamin... Was I ready for that? Not at all. Nevertheless, I looked at him nervously and nodded.
"You're my girlfriend?"
"Yes."
He hugged me hard, and laughed.
"You have no idea how happy I am right now, babe."
"Don't!" I exclaimed before I pushed him off me.
"What? Did I do som..."
"Don't call me 'babe'. Please."
He studied me with confusion, but nodded.
"Darling?"
I shook my head. That made me feel old.
"Sugar?"
"No."
"Honey?"
"That makes it sound like we've been married for a lifetime."
"So?" Benjamin snickered, and I shoulder bumped his chest.
"Butterfly?"
"...makes it sound like you're my dad. And you're not."
"No, but I can be your Daddy."
His eyes suddenly seemed two shades darker than his darkest voice, that right now sent shivers down my spine and pooled up in my core.
"Can we please take this slow?"
"Of course. Small steps. Mouse steps. Mousie steps," he chuckled and hinted at the unfinished cookies on the counter. Then he hugged me again and kissed the top of my head.
"I'll just call you Mousie."
I snorted, but ended up laughing. That was so silly.
"Okay. As long as you don't call me that in public."
"Deal, Mousie."
"Kinda dumb giving me a nickname that's longer than my real name, though. Isn't that kind of the purpose? To shorten long names? You're doing the opposite."
He held me tight by my waist, yet pulled back far enough to look at me.
"I know. But everybody calls you Mia. Mousie is mine, and it's got a history. A special meaning."
"Okay. Then we've established that. What am I gonna call you, then? Everybody calls you all kinds of names. Ben, Benny, Benji..."
"I don't care, as long as I make you scream when you cum," he growled into my ear, and I shuddered in the most thrilling way.
"Benjamin! I told you to take this slow!"
"Yes. Mousie steps. And I'll give you all the time in the world, Mia. Don't worry. But a guy can still use his imagination, right?"
That made me blush like crazy, because his devious smirk told me exactly what he meant.
"Let's just finish these cookies and clean up the kitchen, so Angeline doesn't get an anxiety attack when she gets home," I said, a little louder than necessary. But it worked. It made him focus, and a couple of hours later, we'd made the cookies, eaten the cookies and cleaned up the whole kitchen. We even put a lot of effort into putting everything back to their rightful places, even though both of us knew that Angeline would correct it when she got home. And then Benjamin walked me home.
"I'm sorry for..."
I didn't get to finish my sentence, because Benjamin already placed a finger on my lips. Then he replaced his finger with his lips, and I almost forgot what I was about to say.
"I told you not to apologize. I've had the most amazing night tonight, and I simply couldn't have asked for anything better."
He pecked my lips once more.
"Thank you," he said and showered me with a smile. But his happy expression changed when he saw something on the ground next to us, or more specifically; tucked under the door mat.
"What's that?" he asked, and I shook my head.
"No, idea."
It was a letter, and as soon as I saw my name written on it, with an easily recognizable 'm', I folded it in two and stuffed it into the back pocket of my jeans. I knew that handwriting. He signed his own autographs the very same way.
"It's for my aunt."
I smiled briefly.
"She has a secret admirer or something. Got flowers the other day and stuff."
"Really? I better tell my dad to step up his game, then."
Then his eyes widened.
"Or not! If your aunt and my dad get together, we'll be..."
He made a weird face, which made me laugh.
"I don't think we should worry about that. We're far from related by blood," I reassured. Then I kissed him goodbye and watched him leave, while the letter was burning a hole in my pocket. As soon as I slammed the door shut behind me, I pulled it up and stared at it. Thousands of thoughts clashed together in my skull. Why now? Why tonight? I was doing so well. I was moving on...
"Mia? Is that you?"
Auntie Dorothy's voice ripped me back to reality.
"Y-yes!" I stuttered.
"Did you have a good time?"
"Uh... Yes."
I stared at the envelope once more, before I grabbed it in both hands...
...and tore it to shreds.