her overnight bag. After some grunts and groans, she found the rose and ribbon she’d swiped from the wedding bouquet and held it up. “Ta-dum!”
Ben raised his eyebrow. “You stole a boutonniere?”
“I caught the bouquet! Well, my mom, June and I did. June kept most of it, of course, but I managed to snag a flower.”
“Awesome.” Ben studied the rose for a moment, then grabbed that silver clip magnet from the fridge. He tied the white ribbon around the stem and, using the clip, hung it upside down to dry. “There.” He leaned against the counter. “It might stay in one piece until your post-apocalyptic wedding.”
“Thanks.” Ben was always creating art in places Chloe never would have even thought to look. “Hey, do you think . . .” She hesitated, taking another sip of soda. “Do you think I really look forty?”
Ben grinned. “No way. We’re the same age.”
Chloe and Ben had been friends since the first grade, after she stood up for him on the playground. The school bully cornered Ben against the back fence. Lifting his fist, Gerry Sutherland proclaimed Ben a toad-face and a dead man. Ben just removed his glasses and closed his eyes. Unable to witness such an incredible injustice—attacking a boy who wouldn’t fight back!—Chloe swooped in and whacked her backpack against Gerry’s head.
Later, when they were in the principal’s office, Ben admitted there was a reason he didn’t fight back. “One playground fight and my father sells the Super Nintendo.” As Chloe’s mother rushed into the office, a look of thunder on her face, Chloe thought fast. “Then you owe me. I’m coming over this weekend to play Mario Bros.” The two had been best friends ever since.
“Besides,” Ben added, “getting older is a good thing. It makes us seasoned. Mature. Eligible for the early bird special.”
“I don’t know.” Chloe bit her lip. “Age is different for girls. I don’t want to be like a carton of eggs that someone put in the back of the refrigerator and forgot about.”
Ben cringed. “It creeps me out when you use words like eggs.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But it’s true.”
“Well, you’re only two in cat years. You’ve got plenty of time.” He studied her. “Why are you thinking about all this?”
Chloe’s eyes fell on the drying flower. It was so strange. She hadn’t thought about marriage, family or any of it since she’d set foot into grad school. But the wedding had actually gotten to her. The couple had seemed so happy, holding each other on the dance floor.
“I don’t know.” She set down her can of soda and twisted the tip of her ponytail around her finger. “June was being a pain in the ass about it in the cab, saying I had to start thinking about it all.”
Ben laughed. “You know, you don’t have to listen to everything she says.”
Chloe shrugged. “Everyone listens to what June says.”
Shaking his head, Ben popped open the bottle of champagne meant to celebrate her faux birthday. With a flourish that must have come from the days he waited tables on Michigan Avenue, he poured two glasses. “So. What movie are we watching tonight?”
Just the smell of alcohol made Chloe’s head ache. “I can’t. I have papers due tomorrow.”
“Why do you have to write so many papers? You’re going into art therapy. You should be drawing pictures instead.” Ben held the champagne up to the light and studied it intently. “Unless you’re trying to avoid me?”
“Women stalk you,” she said. “I would be foolish to pass up the opportunity to be in your presence. But, my future calls.” Stretching, she felt a crick in her neck, probably from the plane. Or the Macarena.
Ben selected the Star magazine from her stack of mail and started flipping through it.
“Ooh, don’t wrinkle my magazine.” Chloe had been excited about this issue of Star. Her latest celebrity crush was on the cover, which definitely meant a juicy story. “I’m going to read it in the tub before I write my paper.”
“Sometimes I think I should blackmail you,” Ben said. “Does anyone in your grad program know about your passion for trashy gossip?”
“No way,” Chloe said, sorting through her mail. “Are you crazy?”
“And unless I’m mistaken, you just said you were going to read this in the tub.” Brushing back an unruly strand of hair, he eyed her. “Since when do you take baths?”
“Since always.” She looked at him. “Why? Doesn’t everybody?”
“I don’t know.” Ben gave her an impish grin. “I really never pictured