around and look up at him. When his gaze catches on my expression, his brows furrow in frustration. He looks devastatingly handsome…handsome and mad.
“Are you scared?” he asks, hands falling away from me.
Our eyes lock and my heart pounds.
“Terrified,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Then I look away, embarrassed by my honesty.
He steps closer and our hips brush. The contact makes me lose my breath and he must enjoy it too because he reaches out to grip my waist, pulling me closer. “Worried your dad will find you back here with me?”
That’s nothing, nothing compared to my real fears: the falling sensation I felt when Ben walked into the diner, my excitement every time his name appears on my phone, the easy banter, the give and take. We’re building something. Can’t he feel it? Is that why he’s leaning closer? His chest brushing mine…
“Honey?” A voice carries down the hallway and I try to jerk away from Ben, but he doesn’t let me.
It’s our waitress carrying two plates of food: my salad and my dad’s hamburger.
If she thinks it’s weird that Ben and I are pressed up against the bathroom door, sharing an intimate moment, she doesn’t let on. She just tilts her head back toward our booth with a knowing look in her eyes. “Food’s ready.”
She disappears and Ben finally steps back. I take full advantage, bolting down that hallway as fast as my feet can take me, and I don’t even get my feelings hurt when Ben walks out a few minutes after me and doesn’t look in my direction. He throws some cash down onto his table, yanks his jacket on, and then he and Andy head outside.
My dad finally catches sight of him as they walk past us on the sidewalk.
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say a word. I pray he doesn’t realize Ben and Andy were in the restaurant. To him, it should look like they’re just walking by after work, like they would have done if Ben hadn’t spotted me in here and come inside to taunt me.
That night, I lie in bed, staring at my phone, analyzing the last text Ben sent. I have a challenge for you.
I never texted him back—even after we finished eating and left the diner—and I’m too chicken to text him back now. I’ll just ask him about it in the morning when we both show up at the library for story time.
I’ll be the one in charge then, the one calling the shots. I won’t have him cornering me in hallways and making me sweat.
In fact, the next morning, I’m back to my chipper self, more confident than ever that I can deal with my all-consuming crush on Ben Rosenberg and live to tell the tale. I act like yesterday never happened, like we didn’t almost kiss in that diner hallway and my feelings aren’t in danger of boiling over. I’ve been doing it for weeks, feigning disinterest. Today should be no different, except for the fact that Ben didn’t get the memo. He doesn’t want to play along.
He walks in with an air about him, like he’s just won the race and he’s doing a victory lap. He’s wearing a black shirt, and I decide that color should be deleted from his wardrobe because I just can’t take it. He must like the way I ogle him, though, because he’s clearly gloating as he passes me a surprise latte.
“I had them add a little hazelnut. That’s how you like it, right?”
“Oh.” I glance down at the to-go cup, a little shocked. “Yes, thank you.”
“No problem. How was the rest of your dinner?”
I clear my throat. “Fine. Better than fine, in fact. I ate all of my salad.”
I glance up in time to catch his very subtle smirk. “Like a good little girl.”
My stomach ties itself into a knot—a double knot.
“You think you really got me yesterday, don’t you? That show in the hallway? Very daring. If my dad had found us, you’d be six feet under right now.”
He shrugs, unperturbed. “Maybe, but it would have been worth it. You should have seen yourself. You really thought I was going to take advantage of you right there, in the middle of the diner.”
My eyes go wide. My cheeks burn hot.
“What?! No I didn’t!”
He chuckles. “Come on, Madison. It was all in good fun—part of your plan, remember?”
Of course. All part of my plan.
What’s my plan again?
“So even if that waitress hadn’t interrupted, nothing would