Page 96 of If Only In Our Dreams

Jesus Christ.

Robin

I also love the way you say Jesus Christ. All grouchy and amused. You’re cute, Ben Ben.

The cutest

Me

Try and wear something somewhat warm, please.

Robin

so now you’re ignoring me

I see how it is

ignore my love, Ben Ben

Texting was getting me nowhere. Robin was clearly excited, and because I wanted to hear that excitement for myself, I called him.

Mama walked into the room at the same time the call connected. She tilted her head curiously at me as the twins marched right past her and toward the counter and where the snack I’d prepared them sat in matching black bowls. Chopped apples and peanut butter to dip it into. It was their favorite.

They shuffled away once they’d acquired their food, returning to their now-shared art project across the room like they were returning to battle.

“Hi, sexy doctor man,” Robin’s voice was way too loud because Mama’s head snapped toward the phone, her eyebrows shot up, and a wicked grin spread across her lips.

“Hi, baby,” I hummed, tilting away from her knowing gaze, my cheeks burning as I spoke more quietly. “I’ll be there to pick you up at seven thirty,” I hummed. “Wear my hoodie, okay?”

Oh god. She waslistening. I could feel Mama’s eyes boring a hole into the side of my head.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Robin said in the way he always did. Then he lowered his voice conversationally. “I have a surprise for you.”

I didn’t like surprises.

I never had.

Everyone knew this.

But I wasn’t about to tell him that.

“I love surprises,” I lied, immediately very aware that Mama would see right through that statement. She laughed, proving that I was correct, and I shrank even lower. I should’ve taken the call outside, I realized belatedly.

“No, you don’t,” Rosie said, because she always had something to say. Mama laughed at her too, and I prayed to God that Robin hadn’t heard.

“You don’t like surprises?” Robin had, in fact, heard because he sounded concerned.

“I do,” I quickly reiterated. Rosie opened her mouth again, her little teeth flashing, and before I could think it properly through, I rushed to speak, “I like them ifyou’rethe one planning them.”

Robin was silent for a solid ten seconds.

When he spoke again his voice was hushed, reverent. “That’s super fucking sweet, Ben.” It was hoarse. The way his voice only got when he was overwhelmed. “Fuck. You’re just…fuck, man. What am I even supposed to say to that?”

I smiled, unable to help myself.

Mama continued to stare at me like I’d grown a second head.

“You’re perfect,” I hummed softly, because he was—and he sounded self-conscious. “Seven thirty. Okay, sweetheart?”

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