Page 58 of What We Had

“We need to talk,” I said.

All morning tiredness vanished from his face. He blinked quickly as clarity solidified in his eyes. I saw his pupils shrink to nothing. He pushed himself up in bed.

“Okay. Is everything all right?”

I shook my head. Put my acting skills to use. I looked down as if to collect my thoughts. “No, everything isn’t all right.”

Bennett’s breathing quickened. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

I sat there in a pair of his gym shorts and traced the scars along my knee. “Bennett, I…” I looked at him. A few years into my time in Hollywood, I figured out how to make myself cry. I didn’t dig deep into sad emotions like some did. I discovered a trick to fluctuate my breathing, to force myself into the start of a yawn but not finish it. Worked every time.

“Connor,” Bennett said as he watched tears well up.

“I dunno about this,” I said and gestured between us. Then, before I could watch the heartbreak play out any further on his face, I reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Bennett. You don’t drink coffee, do you?”

One blink. Two. Fear gave way to confusion. Then understanding. Then faux rage. “You dick!”

A pillow came at me, fast as lightning, but I caught it in one hand, yanked it free, and dropped the entire weight of my body on Bennett. “I mean, hey listen, I am a man with needs.Caffeinatedneeds. And after rummaging through your kitchen, I seem to have turned up empty-handed.” He fought to get me off of him but I pinned him. Carefully, playfully. Still hyperaware of his triggers. “Also, what the hell are you doing with Narcan? There’s, like, four boxes of that stuff in the lazy Susan where the coffeeshouldbe.” Seeing them there caught me off guard for a moment before logic kicked in and reminded me that Bennett was a cop and a former paramedic.

“Concord PD requires us to have it in our homes and cruisers,” Bennett said. This didn’t surprise me—the opioid epidemic had crawled its way into every small, quiet town in America. The safety organizations of the area probably requiredallpersonnel to carry it with them.

“Well. Speaking of addictions,” I said. I pushed myself off of his chest to look at him. “I thought it was a fluke or something when you didn’t drink the coffee I gave you in my kitchen. And then I remembered all the times you tasted like lemons and honey.” I sat back and fixed a glare on him. “You’re atea drinker, aren’t you?”

Big, big Benny smile. Dimples as giant as meteoric craters. “I am, yes.”

I clicked my tongue. Sucked air through my teeth and cocked my head. “Yeahhh… I don’t think this is gonna work out, Dubois. We’re at odds, here.”

Another pillow—where did they keep coming from?—and this time I didn’t see it. Took me square in the face with a softpff. I laughed into it, yanked it out of Bennett’s hands and tickled his sides until he bucked me off of him. I lurched out of bed, stretched, and adjusted the waistband of Bennett’s shorts. I was ready for round four, but knew I needed to let things rest for a bit.

“I think I might have some instant coffee still,” Bennett offered. He regained comfort in the bed, pulling the sheets around him and collecting the two discarded pillows.

I perked up. “I’ll take it. Where?”

“Cabinet to the right of the fridge. Top shelf, probably behind the cocoa powder. I used it in this amazing chocolate cake I baked last year. It might be expired, though.”

I had been walking away but stopped at the door. Turned on my heel in a slow, controlled spin. Bennett blinked at me with one of those “what did I say” faces. I shook my head. A stupid, lovesick grin crept across my lips.

“Oh, so you hate that I bake now, too?” he asked in mock accusation.

I turned back around and grabbed the doorframe. On my way out, I said, “A coffee-hating, tea-drinking cop with a penchant for baking. Didn’t think I’d fall back in love withthat, but here we are.”

I stopped halfway down the hall when the words registered in my own ears, delayed. My feet brought me right back to Bennett’s door, where he had sat up. Eyes wide and staring at where I had just stood.

I held out my hands, as if that could placate the shock. “I didn’t mean that. Shit, no. I…” I growled at myself.Find the fucking words, Con. “I meant what I said. I did. I just didn’t mean tosaythem. Right now.” I exhaled. Bennett hadn’t moved. “I’m gonna go make that coffee. I think you need a sec.”

Stupid! Idiot! Moron! Dumbest man on Earth!

The greatest night of my life, the greatestsexof my life, followed immediately by a half-ass confession of love thinly veiled in aninsult? What the hell was I thinking?

My body went on autopilot as I replayed my stupidity like a director’s cut of awful decisions. Served me right—I had been telling Bennett those words in my mind for days now and it should have come as no surprise that they accidentally left my mouth. Ididlove him, more than I realized. But it wasn’t fair to reveal how I felt in such a snide way. Bennett and I had made staggering progress over the past two weeks.

I knew him, how he operated, how he preferred to think things through before sitting down at the table to discuss. This would be too much for him, I realized all at once. Last night’s amazing sex was enough for us to process. Add an unexpectedI love youinto the mix and the recipe created disaster.

Need to give him space.

I had put on a kettle to boil. When did I do that? There were tea boxes in the lazy Susan next to the Narcan. I pulled out a bag of lemon tea and dropped it into a ceramic mug. Found honey, gave a good squirt into the cup.

Why am I making him tea?I forgot about the crappy instant coffee that awaited me behind the cocoa powder.

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