My stomach flips, nerves rushing in all at once
“Relax,” Etti mutters.
Easy for her to say
I take one steadying breath and walk to the door, my heels clicking softly against the floor. My hand hesitates on the handle for half a second before I pull it open.
Oh. My brain just stops for a moment.
It’s Ben. Obviously it’s Ben. I knew it would be. But also… it’s not the Ben I’m used to seeing leaning against the kitchen counter stealing bits of toast or coming in from a run all sweaty and annoying.
He’s… put together.
Like, really put together.
He’s towering over me as usual, which isn’t new, but tonight I feel it more. The height, the width of his shoulders, the way his body fills the space without even trying. His lean muscle under a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough
