“You use that office as a bedroom, don’t you?”
William nodded.
“But … but William! The room that you gave me—that should be your room. It’s beautiful. It’s obviously the master suite. That room”—he gestured toward the office—“doesn’t even have a fucking closet. You’re staying on the futon, but I’d bet my lingerie savings that you don’t fold it out when you sleep.”
“I don’t.”
Benji stalked toward William. “Why do you sleep in there?”
“It’s easier. When I’m here, I usually work late, and it’s convenient to just … lie down in there. Pizza will be here soon.”
“Don’t change the subject by talking about pizza, you trickster. Surely you don’t sleep in your office at home. Why would you do it at your vacation home?”
William’s expression went suspiciously blank. Benji was getting familiar with that look. He suspected it was William’s boardroom look. If William had to do stuff in boardrooms. Benji had no idea what William’s job entailed, but that wasn’t the point.
“Oh. My. God! You do sleep in your office at home.”
The corners of William’s mouth twitched up. “I would never.”
Benji lunged toward him, wrapping his arms around William’s shoulders. “You do, you do, you do! You are a workaholic. A bad one. You need treatment.”
William’s hands landed on Benji’s hips beneath the poncho, holding him like he was delicate. “I’m fine. The office in my apartment is actually the spare bedroom. So … there.”
“Does this spare bedroom actually have a bed?”
William hesitated. “It has a chaise lounge, but it’s as comfortable as my bed. And I only sleep in there every so often. Twice a week, maybe.”
“I guess that’s better than sleeping at an office that’s not located in your own home.”
A red flush crawled up William’s neck.
“Oh. My. God!” Benji said again.
“I know, but—I know.” William dropped his head onto Benji’s chest and nuzzled in.
“Don’t distract me by being cute.”
“You’re the cute one.”
Bubbly, happy warmth spread through Benji’s chest. “Don’t distract me with compliments.”
William huffed and tipped his head back, giving Benji a stern glare. “You will always get compliments from me. You’ll have to learn not to be distracted by them, sweetheart.”
“You’re a workaholic. Check yes or no.”
William rolled his eyes. “Yes.”
“Is that why you need practice dating?”
“Yes.”
“Your boyfriends are the mistress to your job. Second fiddle. Your dirty secret.” Benji swooned dramatically.
“Oh, goodness gracious, that’s enough,” William said, but he was laughing. “And not exactly true.”
“How isn’t it true?”
“I’m not gay. My last partner wasn’t aboyfriend.”