Page 97 of If Only In Our Dreams

“Seven thirty,” Robin agreed, all his joking forgotten for now. “I’ll wear warm socks and the hoodie you gave me.”

“Good boy.”

“See you soon, Ben.”

“Pack an overnight bag.”

“What kinda girl do you think I am?” Robin gasped in mock outrage. Quicker than I could blink he was back to serious again. “I’ll get it all ready. Tell the twins I said hi?”

“I will.”

“Cool. See you soon, Ben Ben.”

“Goodbye.”

When I set my phone down, Mama was leaning against the doorway, still staring at me. Behind her, the girls had moved on—feigning disinterest even though I knew they were eavesdropping on our every word.

“I’ve never seen you act this way,” Mama said, sounding giddier than she should’ve. “Iknewyou could do it!” she declared, like seeing me in love was the most impressive thing I’d ever done. She said it in the same tone she’d told me she was proud of me when I’d graduated medical school. I wasn’t sure if I should be elated or offended.

“Itoldyou I like him,” I countered, cheeks hot.

“Hearing about it andseeingit are two different things,” Mama said wisely. “Happy is a good look on you, Benjamin.” On her way past, she squeezed my shoulder before stopping behind me, turning the sink on, and filling a glass with tap water. She took a sip, and I watched her, cheeks still impossibly hot.

“Mama,” I complained, ready to die because this was soembarrassing.

I couldn’t just walk out. She was offering to watch the girls. Besides, she was my best friend, and even though the teasing was nearly painful, I figured she’d earned it.

“You make thecutestfaces!” She cackled, a smile hidden behind her water glass. “I can’t wait to tell Matilda.”

“Weirdfaces,” Rosie piped up, proving once again that she was listening. I covered my face with one hand, horrified and amused all at once.

I supposed theywereweird faces.

At least where the twins were concerned.

I’d never looked at anyone like I looked at Robin.

I never wanted to.

“Stop being so freakishly tall,” Robin complained when he realized that he was still too short to kiss me without my help, even while standing a step above me on an escalator at the outdoor mall.

“Watch your step,” I said, instead of giving in to his flirting. There was a time for flirting. And it was not at this moment, when one misstep could lead to injury. Escalators were one of the things I hated most in this world.

I eyed it distrustfully as Robin stepped off of it—confident, despite being the kind of man with two left feet and no sense of self-preservation. My own step was measured and careful, less of a flounce, as I made it onto solid ground and tried to calm my racing pulse.

Robin, to his credit, must’ve noticed how nervous I was because he reached out with one hand and curled his mittened fingers around my own.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly.

I’d been told not to worry many times in my life. And it had always, in turn, caused me to worry more. Weirdly enough, in this case though, Robin’s magic words somehow worked. Because his “don’t worry” wasn’t an empty platitude.

It was his way of keeping me present.

His way of promising to be more careful in the future.

I squeezed his hand back, tightly, and he grinned, bumping our shoulders together.

A chilly breeze danced through the walkway, cutting through the open air. It was dark already. A fact that felt like home, and yet I’d always hated. Hated when the winter nights crept in, the world went dark, dark, dark, and time seemed to work on a shorter schedule.

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