Strange, my anxiety from before has disappeared. Being with Ben now, I am centered and myself. No more nerves.

Ben, on the other hand, is still shocked.

“You—how—I—” He shakes his head, as if that’d help him start the right sentence.

I place the sketchpad in his lap and pat his hand. “Deep breath. Your mom let me in.” Now, I pause and realize that, if Ben truly doesn’t want to hang out with me, then this is a totally stalkerish move.

How the tables have turned.

Have we established enough of a friendship for me to show up, unannounced?

“We haven’t hung out in a while. I thought you might want some company. I can leave, if you don’t though.” I gesture to the door and take a step back to show I’m serious.

“No!” He reaches out and clasps my hand, the warmth of his skin driving away any self-doubt. “Stay. You’re always welcome.”

His thumb brushes a few circles on my palm, sending pleasant chills up my arm and down my spine.

Well, that’s not going to help smother butterflies.

I slide my hand from his. He frowns but lets me.

“Looks like you got rid of my chair. Be right back.” I drop my bag on the floor and retreat from the room to grab a seat. The physical exertion of dragging the dining room chair up the stairs helps take my mind off how sensitive my skin feels after his touch. I stop at the top of the landing—not because I need a break from the weight, but because I need to take a deep breath before being in the same room as Ben again. These past three weeks haven’t done anything to lessen his attractiveness. My errant imagination considers disregarding this chair and settling on his lap instead. Possibly running the backs of my fingers over his stubble. Maybe unbuttoning his shirt to discover more tattoos.

“Get yourself together, Foster,” I mutter the words.

“You okay, Holly? Need any help?” his smooth voice calls down the hallway.

“No! I’ve got it. Had to readjust my grip.” That isn’t a lie. Apparently, the hold I have on my hormones is too loose. I do my best to lock down the fluttering in my chest and lower belly before picking the chair back up.

Time to test my willpower.

BEN

Holly stumbles her way back into the room, making me feel like shit because she had to carry her own seating again.

I can’t believe she’s here. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t seen her in almost a month; I still want to kiss her. Then, I want to give myself a swift gut punch. I’m pretty sure my obvious lusting after her is why she avoided me for so long. If I want her to stick around, I need to get my dick under control.

First step, try not to ogle her backside as she bends over to adjust the chair.