Page 33 of On His Schedule
“Okay,” I say finally. “That’s fair.” I grab the papers and look at them again. “Is this all the work you needed to do?”
He nods, reaching for his bag. “That’s all of it, but I have other things I can work on.”
“Anything I can help with?”
He smirks. “I think I got it. You’re more than welcome to work on whatever you need.”
I lean back, feeling wrong about this. “You know that I’m on the clock, right? I’m technically getting paid.”
“I don’t mind,” he says with a smile, turning his attention to his laptop.
I settle into my chair and pull out the work I was doing before he came in. After a few minutes, I look over my screen at him. His eyes flick to mine. I look away quickly. Suddenly, I’m seeing this from a third person’s perspective. Benson Reeve and I are comfortably sitting across from each other with our laptops open, and for some reason, it feels easy. It feels like we’re friends, even though we haven’t been within a mile of personal-question territory yet.
About a half hour later, I reach for the paper bag. He closes his laptop and leans back, stretching out his legs.
“Oh, did you assume I was sharing again?” I tease because he put away his work as soon as I grabbed the bag.
He crosses his arms, watching me.
I shake the bag around and say, “I’m just kidding.” I slide the bag to him. “Here. Pick one.”
“Without looking?”
I nod. “It’ll be a surprise.”
He sticks his hand in, shuffles around, and then pulls out the Reese’s.
“Did you cheat?” I scoff, looking down at the bag.
He opens the package with a slight smile.
“Okay. I’m convinced you bought the chocolate for yourself.”
He hands me the other Reese’s from the pack and says, “I shouldn’t be eating this. You’re a bad influence, Lucy.”
My heart tugs when he says my name. He shoves the entire thing in his mouth and chews, watching me take off the bottom wrapper and take a small bite. A group of people walks by, and one of the guys, towards the back, double-takes in our room. He says something to the guy in front of him, and he looks in the room too.
The door opens, and his head of blonde hair pops in.
“What’s up, Reeve?” the guy smiles, looking between us. “Is this Lucy?”
I try to keep my composure, but my brain immediately suggests that Benson is talking about me to his friends. I ignore the butterflies in my stomach as I watch Benson turn around.
“Stanley,” Benson says. “What’re you doing here?”
Stanley ignores him and smiles brightly at me. “Lucy, girl,” he says, “You better be helping my boy with his math. We need him on the ice.”
“I am,” I mumble with a bite of Reese’s in my mouth.
He looks at the wrapper on the table, the paper bag, and lets the door fall open, exposing his full height. “Are you eating chocolate, Reeve?” He searches his face. “I thought we talked about this. You can’t eat that crap.”
I snicker. He’s making it sound like Benson has a chocolate problem.
Benson doesn’t say anything, but I watch Stanley’s face change as he looks at him.
“Oh,” Stanley says, looking at me. “Sorry. Is the candy yours?”
I nod.
