The acting class had been a sweet way for Ben to show her how much the whole ruse had meant to him. They’d gotten into a circle with the other participants and played some game where the group tells a story one word at a time, and everyone mimes the action happening. It’d felt strange at first, but seeing Ben down on all fours, barking like a dog without even a hint of embarrassment had revealed a side of him that Ryan hadn’t seen before. And despite its initial goofiness, they’d actually learned a thing or two from the class. Unfortunately, her new acting skills didn’t transfer into real life quite yet. There was no pretending that some of the things Ben did didn’t drive her insane. And now, two days after she’d watched this handsome hockey player deliver the Pledge of Allegiance in the acting class as if he’d just put his dog to sleep, she was getting ready to call a time-out on the whole living together idea.
“I’m surprised you haven’t blown a fuse,” Ryan said when she saw Ben come into the room. She put the last few strokes of nail polish on her toes before screwing the cap on.
“What’d you say?” Ben asked.
She turned around so she could see him as he looked around in the fridge for something. “I said, I’m surprised you haven’t blown a fuse.” She’d raised her voice so he could hear her over the music.
“Why do you say that?” he nearly yelled back.
Ryan held up her arms and gestured around her, thinking that she wouldn’t need to actually explain.
When Ben’s eyebrows raised, she realized she was wrong.
“You’ve turned on nearly every electronic device in every room. It’s bright enough in here that I practically need sunglasses.”
Ben laughed as he took a swig out of the orange juice container. “I think you’re exaggerating a little. Plus, you turned some of the lights on too.”
“Yeah. But I turned them off when I left the room.”
Ben shrugged before taking off the shirt he’d just worked out in. He tossed it in front of the door to the laundry room, causing Ryan to clench her teeth together so she wouldn’t say something.
She knew she didn’t really have a right to comment on anything he did in his own home. She was a guest here. But still, watching a grown man treat his luxury apartment like a teenage boy’s bedroom caused some sort of a physical reaction in her. Not to mention the fact Ben seemed to use every available opportunity to get rid of any extra clothing that might be weighing him down. He was shirtless so frequently that she could probably take a pretty accurate guess as to how many hairs the man had on his chest.
She did her best not to look his way, but it was impossible. His chiseled physique glistened with a subtle sheen of sweat that his shirt hadn’t absorbed, and his black mesh shorts sat low enough that she could see his hip bones. She rolled her head against the back of the couch, hoping to relieve some of the tension she was feeling. And though she knew some of it was caused by all the annoying shit Ben did, the rest of it was most likely directly linked to the fact that she wanted to bang his brains out again but couldn’t.
“I’m gonna go take a shower,” Ben said, causing Ryan to roll her head to the side so she could see him. As he left the room, he flicked the switch to turn on the ceiling fan above her. “To get rid of the nail polish smell,” he said with a smirk before heading down the hall to his room.
She’d have been lying if she said she didn’t watch every muscle in his body flex as he walked away.
* * *
It had been less than a week, and already Ben was starting to have buyer’s remorse about asking Ryan to move in. But he wasn’t even sure if she was the one to blame. It wasn’t like she was in the way or that she got on his nerves. It was more that having someone in his space was an adjustment. And it wasn’t necessarily one he welcomed.
Ben squeezed some body wash onto his hand and began to lather his skin as he thought about what it might be like to share a hotel room with Ryan. They could barely share his large apartment without him feeling claustrophobic. Still, as difficult as it would probably be, he had no other options. It wasn’t like he could go out and find another escort.
Well, technically he could. But his interaction with that person wouldn’t be any better than it was with Ryan. And the two of them certainly had an undeniable chemistry that would be nearly impossible to fake.
Maybe being together out of the confines of his own home would be beneficial. Maybe more neutral turf would help. Or maybe they’d wind up killing each other, and the police would find their remains spread out across a room on the eleventh floor of their hotel.
Only time would tell.
Ben turned off the water and dried himself with a clean white towel before wrapping it around his waist and sliding open the glass door. He brushed his teeth, put on a little deodorant, and headed toward the laundry room to grab his clothes.
He hadn’t even made it to the kitchen when he heard Ryan clear her throat in a way that was obviously meant as a notification of her presence. Not that he’d forgotten she was there. “What?” he asked, pausing to stare at where she was seated in the living room.
“Do you have some sort of aversion to clothing?”
He looked down at himself—and his white towel that he’d draped around his waist before leaving the bathroom. “No. What would make you think that? I’m covered.”
“With a towel,” Ryan added.
“So what?” Ben continued toward the laundry room. “It’s the same thing.”
“It’s definitely not the same thing. If you wouldn’t wear it outside of your house, it doesn’t count as clothing.”
“That argument’s flawed,” Ben yelled out as he dug through the dryer for his favorite pair of sweatpants.
“Would you wear a towel to the store?”
“Of course not.”
“Okay,” she replied. “That’s exactly my point. That’s how you know it’s not an article of clothing.”
Ben pulled on the faded gray pants and headed out to the living room, plopping himself in one of the big comfy chairs. “I never claimed that a towel is clothing. That’s ridiculous. I claimed that there are holes in your argument.”
“How so?” She sat up straighter and crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them together in a way that made him need to remind himself to keep his dick in check.
“You said that if you won’t wear it out, it doesn’t count as clothing. That’s untrue. There are plenty of clothes I wouldn’t wear out: boxers, pajamas, those fuzzy socks I wear that you hate because they have a hole in them.” He counted the examples on his fingers in satisfaction as she stared blankly at him. “And I have a horrible Christmas sweater that my grandmother sent me when I was in college. I’m not going anywhere covered in ornaments and reindeer. Oh, and you wouldn’t go out of the house in only a bra, would you?”
“Okay, you proved your point. You can stop now.”
Ben relaxed back on the chair, giving her a victorious grin.
“My point—which apparently I did an awful job of making—is that you shouldn’t be walking around in a towel when I’m here.”
“Well, just so we’re clear, I put the towel on because you’re here. I would’ve walked around naked otherwise.”
He thought he noticed Ryan blush a little as her eyes darted to the floor briefly. “Well . . .”—she let out a frustrated huff—“it makes me . . . uncomfortable is all.”
“Okay, well, that’s all you had to say. I’ll make sure I at least have underwear on when you’re around.”
She glared at him.
“Shorts?”
“That would be preferable.”
“Okay. I’m glad we had this conversation. See? We’re getting somewhere. This is us learning how to live with each other, finding out each other’s pet peeves and stuff. We’re making progress.” She shook her head playfully at him. “And as long as we’re being honest, I should tell you that it doesn’t work both ways. If you want to walk around in your bra and underwear—”
“That won’t happen.”
“Well, there’s no need to decide now. If you wake up one morning and you want to spend the day naked, I’m totally fine with it.” More than fine, actually. He smiled broadly at her. “Your comfort is my top priority.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but he could tell the irritation in her had died a little. “I’m sure it is,” she said.