You've Found Oliver (You've Reached Sam, #2)(52)

I wish we could hang out all night together. But I know that, eventually, he has to return to Seattle. I hate that he lives so far away. If only I had a place for him to stay.

“When do you have to leave again?” I ask.

Ben glances at the time. “Maybe soon. I shouldn’t be driving back too late.”

I frown. “Sorry I don’t have my own place.”

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“Probably on my mom’s sofa. Don’t wanna go back to my old dorm.” I recall breaking into the girl’s room last time. Thank god nothing bad came out of that.

“Why don’t you come back with me instead?”

“Really?”

“Unless you’re too tired…”

“You know I’m not,” I say.

Ben smiles. “Good. Because I’m not either.”

I was hoping he might ask me to come back with him. We only get to see each other once a week. Why should we waste the rest of the night? The snow has stopped when we come outside. Ben turns on the radio as we drive down the highway. The time honestly flies by when we’re together, singing along to the music. We park the car across the street and walk up to his apartment. I change into one of his shirts while he grabs me some water from the kitchen. The Polaroid of me is still there on the wall.

There’s no television in Ben’s room. He takes out his laptop and picks a movie for us to watch. Of course, we’re not really paying close attention to it. I’m too busy appreciating how soft his hands are. He looks so beautiful in the glow of the streetlight outside his window. I take in the contours of his face, the waves in his hair, the scent of cologne that lingers on his tan skin. I want to memorize every feature, in case everything vanishes in the morning. Ben kisses my forehead. Then, slowly, he moves his lips to mine. After, he reaches over me and closes the blinds.

He lays his head on me and we fall asleep together.



* * *





When I wake up in the morning, something is different. Maybe it’s the way the light warms the side of my face. Or the way the blanket feels against my skin. It doesn’t take long to realize—I’m not in my own bed. That’s when I sense something else. The sound of another person breathing. I open my eyes and find Ben sleeping next to me. His fingers are gently touching my side. I take this in, unsure why I’m here.

Shouldn’t I be back in Ellensburg?

I must have woken him up, because he blinks his eyes open and stares at me. His voice is scratchy when he says, “Oliver…. What time is it?”

“I’m not sure…”

“This isn’t a dream, is it?”

“I was wondering the same thing.”

Ben touches my face as if to check if I’m real. “You’re usually already gone when I wake up.”

I’m not sure what’s different this time. I return the touch, running my fingers along his arm. Then we smile at each other. I’ve never seen him in the morning glow before.

We stay like that, facing each other, until one of our alarms goes off. Then we both rise up from the bed.

Ben checks his phone first. “It’s 10:15 already.”

“That’s pretty early for me. What day is it?”

“The first of December.” He holds out his screen for me to see.

I stare at the date. “I can’t believe I didn’t disappear this time.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?”

“No, what?”

He kisses my nose. “I can finally cook you breakfast.”

I smile as he opens the blinds, letting in more sunlight. I can’t believe this is actually happening. Ben pulls me up from the bed and hands me a pair of shorts from his dresser.

Then I follow him into the kitchen, where he opens the fridge and says, “Luckily, I went grocery shopping yesterday.”

“It’s like you knew this would happen…”

“Honestly, but I hoped it would.”

I offer to be his sous chef, but Ben insists on doing everything. I think he wants to surprise me with his skills in the kitchen. So I pull out a chair at the little dining table. Ben puts on his morning playlist and hums along to it. He pours me some coffee and says, “And how do you like your eggs? Sunny side up, scrambled, or fancy?”

“Oh, definitely fancy.”

“Great choice.” He winks at me.

It’s fun watching him cook in his white apron. You can tell how much he loves it from the neatly labeled ingredients in the cupboard. Eventually, he lets me help out, and I cut scallions while he rinses the rice and turns on the stove. I imagine us living together someday. Cooking breakfast like this every morning. Adding more Polaroids to the wall. Watching the sun rise and set from the fire escape.

Ben holds the pan at an angle as he stirs the eggs, using a flicking motion. Then he lays the eggs over a small bed of rice and slices them down the center, revealing a silky interior. He sets the plate in front of me. “This is called omurice,” he says.

“It’s like I woke up to a five-star restaurant.”

“Welcome to Chez Ben,” he says with a graceful bow.

He lets me take the first bite. It tastes even better with the sliced avocado he also prepared. Ben tells me he likes to save recipes he finds online. He grew up cooking with his mom at home. It’s his favorite thing to do when he wants to take his mind off schoolwork.