Page 8

He nods. "I wish you didn't have to. It's been so nice to have someone to talk to. Someone to actually listen."

His tone, slightly serious, seems to imply something.

"I don't exactly get paid to visit with the customers," I explain.

"I would gladly pay for your company, anytime." he says so seriously, the rational half of me is offended while the other half is turned on. Before I have much time to process and decide which, he is sputtering an apology.

"Wait. That came out all wrong." Pushing back his dishes, he runs a frustrated hand though this hair. "I only meant…. Well-"

"It's okay, really." I start to clear his dishes, and he puts his hand out to stop me. Once again, electricity jolts my senses when his skin comes into contact with mine.

But this time, neither of us pulls away. "Please, stop doing that. Just…let me explain."

Looking into his eyes, I see a heat reflected there. A warmth that I feel burning in myself, and I wonder how does this happen? Why is this happening? Seriously! What made him wander into my diner? For some unknown reason, I become angry with him for making me feel things. Zings and jolts... heat and desire. All the things I thought were just in books. Things I certainly don’t have time for.

My arm pulls from his grasp, grabbing as many dishes as I can. I turn too quickly, tripping over my own feet, trying to escape him and the way he makes me feel. My dignity crashes around me with broken glass and sticky syrup.

Wetness coats my cheeks as the tears begin to fall, the past couple of days breaking through the cracks, flooding out as my soul releases it all. Stress. School. Kami. Embarrassment. Fear of failure.

I feel strong arms lift me up as Vince comes around the corner. "Lex, you okay?" he shouts, his voice full of concern.

If Vince is over there, who is holding me? Oh, shit. Ben.

How embarrassing. My head hangs in humiliation. I can hear them both asking if I'm okay, so I choke out a sobbing, "Yes."

Fighting the arms that are holding me steady proves useless. Giving up, I lean into the warmth of his hold, the smell a delicious mixture of maple and expensive cologne.

Cold metal meets the back of my thighs, and I realize I'm being placed on the stainless counter next to the sink. Suddenly, I miss his warmth.

His fingers grasp my chin, gently coaxing my head upwards. "Hey." Locking eyes with, he continues," Hey, there."

His fingers brush the hair away from my face. "Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere?"

"Does my pride count?" I ask, honestly. I reach up to wipe away my tears and find my fingers are smudged with black.

"Hey, no need to be embarrassed." He tries to comfort me.

Vince steps forward, handing him wet cloth. And for the first time, I notice he has been sitting back watching this whole bizarre exchange. He catches my gaze and knows I'm on to him. He winks, soliciting a grin from me. "I'll just grab the first aid kit."

"Great, now I look like a freaking raccoon," I sigh, and Ben hands me the towel. I try to wipe off myself as best as I can without a mirror.

Feeling soft cotton brush my skin, I suddenly realize that he's standing between my legs, and his arms are pressed on the counter on either side of me. My cheeks burn with a flush, and this time, it's not from embarrassment.

"I happen to think raccoons are adorable," he offers.

I'm pretty speechless, which is rare. So I shift uncomfortably, and he gets the hint and steps back.

"Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He's the one who seems uncomfortable now.

"I'm fine," I lie. Because I'm anything but. I don't know what the hell I am, but fine isn't a descriptive enough word to cover it.

Looking at him, I notice that he's covered in syrup among other things. "Ben. Oh, my gosh."

"What?" Panic laces his voice; his eyes roam my body, checking me out.

"Not me…you." Blushing, I point at his expensive clothes that are now probably ruined.

"Oh, they're just clothes." He waves it off. "Don't worry."