Love Novice (Completed) Season 1 In Ben and Am's Romance

Chapter 50: Subtract

Mom and I turn over a new leaf. I call her every Sunday morning. It's been three calls so far, and she's aware of my plans to move, my jobs, and last week I told her about Ben. Is she supportive? Of my move—overly so. My job at the store terrified her, and my chatter about Ben garnered mostly silence.

"I don't know how you could work at a place like a grocery store. With your brains? You should've found something more...palatable."

Right. Like I had that many choices. But I don't want to argue or give her the opportunity to break the fragile peace between us. Maybe the blissful state will last a bit longer. I don't believe in forever.
"It's just a job, Mom."

"There's no such thing. Everything has a purpose." I hear her take a drag and blow out the smoke. "And yours is clearly to move over here and be with your family."

My insta family. "How are the boys doing this week?"

"Oh, the usual. Manu took them to a game. They can't stop talking about meeting you in person," she says. "We don't like you being alone there."

But I'm not alone. Not anymore.

My focus is torn between attempting to stay on top of my thesis and finding time to be with Ben. He becomes a fixture in my apartment and buys the same sheets for my bed as he for his. We spend a lot of time on them. I can't get all of him, so I'm trying to get my fill any way I can. I can't pretend we don't have a ticking clock built-in into our relationship. Every day I see him I subtract, not add. It's one day less, not more. There are moments, my thoughts are occupied with how can I move Ben to the next base. I want a homerun. Lots of homeruns. Innings and innings full of them. Seasons even. We've squandered so much time already.

No time we spend together is ever enough. There's this tension in my chest, and it only eases when I see him. The scary part is that some days all I need is for him to be in the same space as me. When he's around, I can concentrate.

"You can cut that out." Angie takes her laptop away from Ben and points at the screen. "This is your money shot."

I'm stretched out on the couch, typing up the changes to my thesis and watching the two of them work on Ben's third video with seriousness that fascinates me.

"That's my arm with a skillet. And it's not serving any instructional purpose here," says Ben. "Unless the audience doesn't know how to hold a skillet properly."

"Oh, it serves a purpose. People are going to enjoy looking at that arm," says Angie.

"I don't get why people interested in food will be interested in my arms."

"Remember, it's not all about food. You are selling yourself too. You're trying to attract viewers, and the way your muscles flex here while holding the skillet is the perfect combo of food and hot."

I take my eyes off the last round of peer review comments and look at Ben's arms. Angie's right. They're a good addition to anything that needs to draw or keep the audience's attention. I think of the places those arms have explored on me and hurry to shut the door on those mental images. I need to focus on the work on my screen.

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing," says Angie. "You're going to keep this shot. It's going to be their eye candy. Everyone deserves a calorie-free dessert."

"Okay." Ben takes the computer back. "I won't delete it. I trust you on this."

I'd trust Angie too. She's been one of the best advisors in my life. I wish she could help me with my schoolwork as well, but she's out of her depth there. I re-read the last critique from Professor Hopkins. I don't want to spend more time at the library, but that's the only way I can scrounge another source in the meager time I have left. More sources, more time at the library for additional research, and more Latin and Old French translations are in my future.