Page 12 of The Legend Next Door
Honestly, I love it. I think it sucks big time that adults can’t be this excited about life.
“Jelly!”
“Luca!” I answer, matching his zeal and exceeding it slightly.
He throws his arms around my waist and the strength of the impact forces a gusty snort from me. I do my best to reciprocate the embrace while maintaining my balance and not spilling any coffee.
“Is this one for my dad?” he asks, pointing to Ben’s mug.
“Sure is.”
He takes the mug from me, holding it in both hands, and walks carefully up the short flight of stairs to the porch. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and slowly sweeps his bottom lip from the concentration the action requires.
“You’ve got this, buddy,” he whispers to himself. “You can do it.”
See?Adorable.
It’s something small, and you probably wouldn’t notice if most kids did it, but Luca giving himself a little pep talk is so stinking cute, it takes everything I have not to squish his cheeks or ruffle his hair.
I glance down at my mug, buying time to center myself before greeting Ben. He’s at the front door, an immense, far-reaching presence I feel without looking up. Yesterday, I was unprepared. I had no idea what to expect when I met him. No idea what I was walking into.
This time, I’m ready.
I’m steady.
I was up late last night replaying my entire interaction with Ben and my conversation with Ness and Marcus afterward. In the black of night, it was painfully obvious how right Marcus was. Of course Marcus is right. Of course it’s idiotic for me to so much as comment on how Ben looks. I lost myself briefly yesterday, but I’m back. Common sense has prevailed, thank goodness. It’s a new day, and everything’s fine.
I adjust my posture, tighten my core, and take a deep breath. I hold it for a second and let it out slowly, just to be on the safe side.
There. All good.You’ve got this too, buddy,I tell myself.
I take in Ben’s shoes—worn-in white sneakers—and exhale a little puff of air I didn’t know I was holding. Phew. Thankfully, everything’s fine.
I work my eyes up his legs. He’s wearing athletic shorts like he was yesterday. And that’s fine too.Yesterday’s shorts were gray. Today’s are navy. Both colors are totally fine. Makes no difference either way.
I get to his thighs, and not going to lie, his thighs do give me pause, but it’s all right. It’s still mainly fine. I’m still doing well, and I’m proud of myself. I force my gaze quickly up his chest, not slowing to take in his neck because I have an awful thing for Adam’s apples. They’ve always been a big problem for me, and unfortunately, they’re a problem that doesn’t give a quarter of a shit whether the men they’re attached to are straight or gay.
I’m in such a rush to avoid his neck that I bungle my ascent and find myself looking straight into his eyes without bracing first.
The same thing that happened yesterday happens today. A silver-blue glint hits me right between the eyes and brain matter sizzles.
Ben’s eyes are blue like the moon on an overcast night. Dark rings outline his irises and get lighter the closer they get to his pupils. He leans against the doorframe with an easy half-smile and a dense shroud of sadness around him.
There’s a slight chance I’m not a hundred percent fine because the thing is, Ben is so beautiful I can’t remember if I was breathing in or out.
“Hey,” I say, forming the word with more care than usually required to put three letters together.
“You came back.” There’s a slowness in his words. It’s slight, but it’s there. A barely there drawl delivered on the wings of a deep timbre that sends a rumbly vibration through me.
“I said I would.”
“I know, but I made a fool of myself with the whole mug thing yesterday, so I thought you might change your mind.”
He sits on the swing and motions for me to do the same. His legs are parted wide, crossed at the ankle, and he holds his mug in one hand, balancing it on one leg. I designed it specifically to fit into a large hand, but still, it’s dwarfed by the long fingers curled around it.
“Are you kidding?” I emit a strained sound that could pass for a chuckle. “I gave as good as I got in that whole situation. Plus, I made a huge fool of myself by not recognizing you. Sorry about that.”
He dips his head modestly and waves me off. “No, not at all. Not everyone likes hockey.”
