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“I seem to remember you worshipping it last Saturday.”
I throw a pillow at him so he doesn’t catch me blushing. “You’re the worst,” I say in faux indignation.
“Maybe, but I have ice-cream. You want some?”
There’s something about this guy that’s completely disarming. Or maybe it’s the sugar.
The episode ends and he grabs the remote control. “What about a movie next?” he suggests. “You know, just to mix up our bed-rotting viewing.”
“Hmmm. Well, a movie isn’t against the rules of bed rotting. But what? There’s almost too much choice now.”
“Something I won’t have seen.”
“Have you ever seen any movie?” I ask. “Aren’t you always out networking or at the gym?”
“Well, now I’m here, bed rotting with you. Pick a movie.”
“I’m thinking a classic,” I say, narrowing my eyes and trying to think of something that’s appropriate for bed rotting. “I’m thinking a rom-com.” I grin at him as I realize what I’m going to choose. “Sleepless in Seattle. Have you seen it?”
“Never.”
“Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. You sure you haven’t seen it?” I ask, sliding under the duvet.
“You can be sure of it.”
“I should have thought of it by now.” I reach and take the tray from him. “What with the view of the Empire State Building from here. It’s a perfect choice. Obviously you’re going to hate it.” I get some satisfaction out of knowing that watching it will torture him a little.
“Maybe I won’t.”
“Oh, I hope you do! It’s so romantic. Be careful, it might make you fall in love with me.”
He shakes his head, grinning at me, as he fluffs up the pillows behind him like bed rotting is something he’s always done.
I haven’t seen this movie for the longest time. I’d forgotten how pretty Meg Ryan is, and now that I’m a little older, Tom Hanks hits different. I’m sure he’s more attractive than he was when I first watched this movie.
I watch the entire thing with a grin on my face. It’s just so comforting. A few times when I glance over at Ben, he looks engrossed and part of me likes that he doesn’t think he’s better than bed rotting with me. I like that he can take pleasure in simple things when he’s as wealthy as he is.
“Oh so it took the Empire State Building to be lit up with a heart for her to realize she had to leave?” he asks, rolling his eyes. “She can’t make her own mind up?”
“No!” I argue. “She made the decision and then the Empire State Building lights up.”
Ben frowns. “So the building lighting up was what?”
“A sign! The universe was telling her she’d made the right decision.”
“She’s going to be too late anyway,” he mutters.
I stifle a laugh. The man’s invested—I gotta give credit where it’s due. Ben is racking up credits at every turn.
THIRTEEN
Ben
Today has been surprisingly good. Avril and I haven’t done anything except read and watch TV and a movie. The odd snippets of conversation between the reading and TV have been the most shocking parts of my day. The way I’ve gotten to know Avril so much better in these last twelve hours is wild. Not because we’ve been actively talking and sharing things, but just because we’re in close physical proximity to each other and have spent the entire day together.
I know that it’s quite hard to make her laugh, but just because she’s not laughing doesn’t mean she’s not amused. I know that she doesn’t like me to know when she’s embarrassed. I also think that sometimes she can read my mind. She seems to know what I’m thinking almost before I’m thinking it. It’s a little unnerving, when I’m so used to keeping so much of myself to myself. It’s almost impossible to hide anything when I’m with Avril.
“I think we should go out,” I say at around six.
