Page 33 of This Changes Everything

“It’s you and me, Ellie.” Ben leaned down and lightly kissed my bare shoulder, surprising me. He was still testing me.

I lifted my head from my shoulder and found his face inches from mine. The last person I was an “us” with was Rory. Actually, no. I guess we were never an us. Not really. As Ben liked to remind me, Rory was never my boyfriend. Was Ben?

The lines between Ben and me were blurring, and I was sure we had already crossed a few of them. He kept his eyes on me as he kissed my shoulder again. With his lips still pressed against my skin, he said, “Okay, I won’t come and be your bodyguard, but can I at least pick you up after work? Maybe we can go for a walk? Maybe talk?”

Our eyes locked. My heart was in my throat.

Don’t kiss me, Ben. Don’t kiss me. But also, please, dear god, kiss me.

I nodded cautiously and whispered, “Okay.”

He kissed my shoulder for a third time, simultaneously warming me from the inside and confusing the shit out of me, then slipped out of bed to make us coffee.

Ben arrived to pick me up at my internship at 7 p.m. I had been through a gauntlet of horrors. Justin had explained that he was going to fire anyone who pissed him off that day, based on the three-strike rule. His assistant was out the door by 5 p.m. He then called me into his office, saying I was going to be the one to take over the assistant’s desk because he liked the way I took initiative and color-coded the kombucha in the fridge.

The top of Justin’s desk was already stacked with the CVs of people next in line to replace me should I screw up. He tasked me with getting him tickets to a Vegas fight that hadn’t yet been announced and didn’t yet “technically” exist to the outside world. He said if I figured out a way to get the tickets, then I could come back tomorrow. Needless to say, after crying in the bathroom for thirty minutes, I got scrappy. I got a hold of the third assistant to the CEO of the biggest talent agency in Los Angeles by lying my ass off, and once I connected with her executive assistant, I told them whom I worked for and my predicament. Luckily, Justin’s reputation extended across the country, and the executive assistant gave me the contact information for the assistant of the agent who represented one of the fighters. It went on from there, and in about an hour I received an email from the agent himself, guaranteeing Justin the tickets. Justin thanked me by squirting me with his water bottle and not firing me.

It made me forget about the push-ups from the day before entirely, and I felt like I had pulled a rabbit out of my ass. I may have accidentally given myself my very first ulcer, but I did it. I pulled it off, and I wondered for the first time if maybe there was something other than acting, other than writing, that I might actually be good at. Yes, Justin was a movie star, but in the moment, I didn’t feel like an intern; I felt like his producer.

Ben gently tapped on my computer, surprising me with his arrival.

“You moved desks?”

My attention had been buried deep inside my phone, answering Justin’s texts even though he was in the office next door. Another intern named Chase, my deskmate before today’s trial by fire, dropped off a stack of movie scripts that Justin had been offered. Chase gave Ben the ol’ up-and-down.

“Security?” Chase laughed.

“Kinda.” I returned the laugh half-heartedly. I looked toward Justin’s open office door, then whispered, “I can’t go until he goes.”

“Okay. I can wait. But was today better, or do I lose my shit?” Ben asked, mirroring my hushed tone.

I smiled and felt myself fully inhale for the first time in hours.

Before I could answer Ben, Chase jumped in. “You Ellie’s boyfriend?”

Ben held out his hand and shook Chase’s. “What’s up? I’m Ben,” he said, not entirely answering the question.

“Oh, Ben! I’m Chase. Ellie talks about you all the time.” Chase leaned against my new desk, oblivious to how he had just called me out.

Ben’s eyebrows flew up his forehead, conveying his delight to be receiving this news. “Does she?”

“Settle down,” I cautioned Ben with an eye roll.

Just then, Justin stalked out of his office. He once again shot me with a squirt from his water bottle, then barreled toward the exit door like a hurricane of pomp and ego. “Nighty-night, intern.”

Thankfully, my computer was spared. I looked up at Ben, whose entire face had transformed.

“Ben. Don’t,” I warned, sensing he was about to blow. Ben carefully closed my laptop, then pulled on my hand, lifting me from my seat. He gently pushed back my damp hair and thumbed some water away from my face.

“Ellie.” His voice trembled with an anger that I knew he was attempting to harness. “He just squirted you in the face with water like you’re a cat he’s trying to train.”

“Please. It’s fine. I’m fine.” I clutched Ben’s hand. He kept his intensifying gaze on mine. His mouth tightened into a firm line. “Let’s go home,” I implored, and Ben eventually nodded, reluctantly following my lead.

We walked up Central Park West. Ben hadn’t let go of my hand.

“What happened today?” he said through gritted teeth. I could tell it was difficult for him to speak.

“Ben. Stop.” I pulled on his hand, forcing him to stand with me on the street. He forced his eyes down to mine. I gently pushed the back of my hands into his rigid jaw. He closed his eyes and brought me into him, wrapping his arms around my neck.