Make Me Bad(34)

Besides, I know it’s not Lenny. I know it the same way I know the sky is blue and the earth is round and day follows night. It’s Ben. It’s Ben walking up behind me and I need to turn to address him now or things are going to get awkward.

I glance over my shoulder, picking a spot on the wall behind us. It assures I don’t make a total fool of myself. “Morning. There’s coffee and bagels over there.”

I point to the side table where I carefully arranged breakfast for us. Now that I’m seeing it from his perspective, it looks a little intense. There are five different types of bagels. Two kinds of spreads. The napkins are fanned.

He smiles. “Oh, I brought bagels too.”

I muster up the courage to look at him, and sure enough, he has a brown paper bag of his own—but that’s not the sight I get hung up on. God, Ben. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt. His hair is mussed up a bit, not quite as perfect as he wears it during the week. His jaw is clean-shaven.

Oh, I’m gawking. He notices, but thankfully, he saves my dignity by holding up the bag.

“But these are special,” he says, waving them. “Apology bagels.”

His mouth is on the brink of a smile.

“Oh really?”

“For Monday.”

I swallow, not wanting to delve into all that again. I turn back to the task at hand and shake my head. “Oh, it’s no problem. It was my fault too for suggesting the stuff about Andy. That was—”

He steps up behind me. “I reached out to him like you asked.”

I squeeze my eyes closed, wishing we could just skip over this whole conversation.

“Sorry, Madison, he—”

“No, it’s fine.”

Why are tears gathering in my eyes?

“He’s hung up on Arianna.”

“I get it. I mean, c’mon—Andy and I weren’t going to date.”

My self-deprecating laugh hurts.

For some insane reason, this feels like a rejection, even though I know with all my heart that’s not the case. I don’t want Andy, but now I know Andy doesn’t want me, and that hurts because why doesn’t Andy want me? I’m not so bad!

“You two weren’t the right fit,” Ben says, like he’s trying to ease my suffering.

If he wants to ease my suffering, he should try putting that paper bag over his head. Cover up some of that charm. Now that would ease my suffering.

“What kind of bagels did you get?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Variety pack. You?”

“Same. Madison?”

“Uh huh?”

His hand hits my shoulder. “There’s a nice guy out there for you. It’s just not Andy.”

He sounds so confident, I actually believe him.

Wow this is embarrassing. I wonder what Andy told him when he brought all this up. If he laughed, I’ll die right here and now.

“Want to eat?” he says gently. He’s scared I’m going to shatter. I refuse to give in to the urge. Instead, I wrap up my hurt as carefully as possible, trying to compartmentalize the pain so I can focus on this moment. I don’t want him to see me like this: pathetic and sad and lonely. So, I take a deep breath and shrug. The smile I aim at him is halfway genuine.

“Sure.”

We eat bagels on the floor of the multipurpose room like it’s a grand picnic. He tells me about his job, why he likes being a lawyer, the thrill of growing his business. I listen intently, not because I care at all about legal proceedings but because of how compelling he is when he talks about his career. Am I this passionate about children’s books? Hilariously enough, I think I am.

After we scarf down as many bagels as we can handle, we finish setting up for a jungle-themed story time. When the kids arrive with their parents, Ben helps me pass out paper masks that turn the kiddos into ferocious lions, tigers, and snakes. Everyone sits in a semicircle and I stand at the front holding up a book, projecting my voice so everyone can hear me. Ben leans against the wall, watching me with a smile, especially when I go for it with the animal sounds. Apparently, I make a very compelling elephant. He tells me so as we’re cleaning up.

One second, he’s half complimenting, half teasing me, and then the next, he turns and asks casually, “Want to get lunch?”

I hide my shock and offer a casual shrug. “Oh…yeah. That’d be fun.”

And we do get lunch. We order sandwiches to-go at a deli down the street and we take them to the park. It’s our second picnic of the day, but this time, we’ve really mastered it. We pick a nice shady spot and Ben unwraps our food. We replay all the funny moments of the morning while we eat, and when I’m done, I lie back on the grass, staring up at the underbelly of the oak tree stretched over us.

I can feel Ben watching me from where he sits a few feet away. I’m wondering what’s on his mind a moment before he tells me.

“I feel bad the setup with Andy didn’t work out.”

My stomach squeezes tight. I keep my attention on the tree as I hum a noncommittal reply. Please, do we have to talk about this again? Anything else, I beg you.

“Did you really like him?”

I still can’t find words, so I shake my head.

“If you’re willing to take another chance on love,” he continues, a bit teasingly, “I could find you someone else. Just tell me what you’re looking for in a potential boyfriend and we’ll go from there.”