Page 29 of Benji

Though I saw on the screen when Benji foundPretty Womanon Netflix, and I saw when Julia Roberts got in the car with Gere.

I looked up again when Benji, still lying on the sofa, raised both hands in the air. Julia Roberts was telling the store on Rodeo Drive of their big mistake, and it made me smile.

It was a great scene in the movie about not judging a person by their clothes or their job.

And Benji identified with Julia Roberts’s character.

Both sex workers.

Both deserving of respect as human beings.

In some ways it reminded me of why I did what I did for a living too. To make sure people were treated fairly and justly the only way I knew how.

I went back to my work, almost done on this one report. But I looked up again in time to see Richard Gere climbing the fire escape to rescue his damsel.

I pretended to not notice when the movie ended and Benji walked past. I heard the shower start and I pretended to not envisage him wet in the shower.

He came back out and I pretended to not notice how low-slung those sweatpants were on his hips, how his hip bones peeked out below the hem of his too-short tee shirt. I most definitely didn’t notice the outline of his dick or the way I was certain he wasn’t wearing underwear.

I stared at my laptop screen so hard my eyes hurt,though the words were a blur. My heart was hammering, my blood running warm.

My dick was in a permanent state of semi-hardness.

Then, of course, he stopped walking and turned back around. “Forgot my book,” he murmured.

Which I was certain he did to make sure I’d look up at him and see him in those slutty clothes with his wet curls and sweet smile.

And yeah, he was most definitely not wearing underwear.

I let out a slow, quiet breath as soon as he’d disappeared, trying to get my body and mind back on track.

I deliberately didn’t look at him when he walked back past with a book in his hand, and I didn’t look at him when he lay back down on the couch.

I did smile as his foot appeared on the top of the backrest though... until I realised it meant he was lying there with his legs spread wide...

He was going to kill me, I was sure of it.

I decided checking emails was in order, and a decent distraction as it turned out. I hadn’t thought of Benji for a few minutes, at least, until he appeared beside me with a plate in his hand.

“Your lunch,” he said, sliding the plate toward me. There was a sandwich on it, and I hadn’t even realised he’d gotten up or heard him in the kitchen.

“Oh, wow. Sorry, I lost track of time.” I checked the time on my laptop. It was after midday. Jeez. I really had lost track of time.

“You were in the zone there for a while,” Benji said. “Will you stop for lunch? Or do you work through?”

“Uh...” I half shrugged. “Normally I eat as I work. But I’ve never had a house guest before. I can take a few minutes.”

He brightened, genuinely happy about this. “We can sit on the balcony!”

I chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Okay.”

We took our plates out to the balcony, and man, the warm sun on my face, the fresh breeze, was a small slice of heaven I hadn’t allowed myself in so long.

The sandwich was great too, and the way Benji was smiling.

He looked even prettier in the sunlight. It highlighted the shades of dark blues and gold in his black hair, and his freckles looked bronzed. His long eyelashes fanned shadows across his cheeks when he closed his eyes, soaking up the sunshine.

Boyish. Beautiful.