Forever, Interrupted(18)

“Wait!” I heard Ben say. “Don’t move yet,” and so I didn’t.

Two minutes later, the door jingled again and Ben came around in front of me. In his hands were two cups of gelato, both a light brown with brightly colored spoons sticking out of them.

“How did you do that?” I asked, taking one of them from him.

Ben smiled. “I have my ways.”

“Seriously,” I said.

“Seriously? I bribed her.”

“You bribed her?” I asked, shocked. I had never known anyone to bribe someone before.

“Well, I said, ‘If you can give me two cups of whatever flavor you have left, I’ll give you twenty bucks extra.’ So if that’s a bribe, then yes, I bribed her.”

“Yeah, I’d say that’s a bribe.”

“Somewhat corrupt,” he said to me. “I hope you can forgive me.”

I stared at him for a moment. “Forgive you? Are you kidding? No one has ever bribed anyone for me before!” I said.

Ben laughed. “Now you’re just making fun of me.”

“No,” I said. “I’m entirely serious. I think it’s hugely flattering.”

“Oh,” he said, smiling. He laughed. “Awesome.” Then he took a bite of his gelato and immediately grimaced. “It’s coffee,” he said, as he ran to the trash can on the sidewalk and spit it out.

“You don’t like coffee?”

“Coffee is like doctors’ visits and NPR to me,” he said.

I took his cup from his hand and held it in the palm of mine while I ate from the other. “More for me, then,” I said.

We got back in his car, and neither one of us knew quite what to do next.

“The day doesn’t have to end,” I said. “Does it?”

“I’m glad you said that,” Ben responded. “Where to next?”

“Well, I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not really hungry . . . ”

“What if we go back to your place?” he suggested. “I promise I won’t get handsy.”

I let it sit in the air for a minute. “What’s wrong with handsy?” I teased him. He didn’t even say anything; he just threw the car in reverse and started speeding down the street.

When we got back to my apartment, Ben took my keys out of his pocket. We walked up the stairs to my door, but halfway up the stairs, Ben realized he’d forgotten something. He quickly ran back down to his car and put money in the parking meter. Then, he flashed back up the stairs to meet me and unlocked my door. Once inside, he gingerly placed the keys on my table by the door.

“They’re right here when you need them,” he said. “Is that a good place to remember them?”

“That’s fine. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, sure. What do you have?”

“Water. I should have said, ‘Do you want any water?’ ”

Ben laughed and sat on the couch. I grabbed two glasses and went to the refrigerator to fill them, which is when I saw the big bottle of champagne sitting there, ice cold and left over from New Year’s Eve.

“I have champagne!” I said and grabbed it out of the fridge. I walked to the living room and held it up in front of Ben. “Bubbly?”

He laughed. “Yeah! Let’s break open the bubbly.”

We ran to the kitchen and got wineglasses. I attempted to open the bottle and failed, so Ben stepped in and popped it open. The champagne sprayed all over our faces, but neither one of us much cared. He poured our glasses, and we sat down on the couch.

It was awkward for a minute. We were stuck in silence. I drank from my glass for a bit too long, staring at the golden bubbles. Why was it awkward now? I wondered. I wasn’t sure. I stood up for a minute and felt the whoosh of the alcohol to my head.

“I’ll be right back,” I said. “I’m just going to go . . . ” What? What was I going to go do? I wasn’t sure.

Ben grabbed my hand and looked at me. He stared into my eyes. His eyes looked to be pleading with me. Just like that, I threw myself onto his lap, straddling his waist. I kissed him. My arms wandered down onto his shoulders. His hands grabbed my hips. I could feel them through my jeans. He pulled me tight as he kissed me, his arms running up my back and into my hair. It felt like he was desperate to kiss me. As we moved our heads and hands in sync, my body started to ache where it wasn’t being touched.

“I like you,” he said to me, breathlessly.

I laughed. “I can see that,” I said.

“No,” he said, pulling his face away from mine for a moment, looking at me like I was important. “I like you.”

Boys had told me they liked me before. They had said it in eighth grade and in high school. They had said it drunk at parties. One had said it in a college cafeteria. Some of them looked down at the ground when they mumbled it. Some of them stuttered. Each time I had told them I liked them back. And I realized now that each time I had been lying.

No man had ever made me feel this admired before, nor had I admired someone back this much before. What had Ben done in the past few hours to make me care so much? I didn’t know. All I knew was that when he said that to me, I knew that he meant it. And when I heard it come out of his mouth, it felt like I’d been waiting to hear it my entire life.