This isn't weird.

Get It Together! II (Electric Boogaloo)

"Take as much time as you need," Rebecca said as they reached the second floor. "Noah's gone out with Rufus. They shouldn't be back before nightfall."

"I don't think we'll stick around much longer, but thanks," Ben replied, genuinely grateful.

"I'll be down in the kitchen if you need anything. Stop by before you leave, won't you? I've grown quite fond of Millie, you see. I'd rather like a chance to say goodbye."

"Yeah, of course."

"Wonderful." Rebecca led him down the hall, then gestured at a closed door with a faint line of light visible in the narrow opening where it met the floor. "That one," she said, and flitted back down the hall before he could thank her again. His heart stuttered as he approached the door and rapped his knuckles against its wooden surface, so hesitantly he was afraid she might not even hear it.

"Who is it?" called Millie's voice from the other side.

"It's me," Ben replied. "Can I come in?"

Almost immediately, the door swung open, and Millie stood before him, looking up at his face with outright elation. "Bennifer," she said.

He knew his line—Milliam—but he had already forgotten it by the time he opened his mouth, his thoughts completely derailed by the sight of her. Her hair was still damp, but combed straight, and she had changed into a black sweater that showed next to no skin, but clung to her body in a way that made his eyes glaze over before he even realized it. "Woah," he breathed instead.

"What?" she asked with a puzzled little frown.

"How are you so hot in that sweater?" Ben muttered, his expression so vacant Millie suspected he didn't realize he'd said it outloud. His hands drifted mindlessly to rest on her hips as his gaze lowered to look her over. The sureness of his touch delighted her. He wasn't trying to be forward—it was simply what felt natural. It didn't occur to him not to touch her.

"My eyes are up here," she said, though she couldn't help but arch her back a little to accentuate her bust.

"And that skirt—" It was modest in much the same way as the sweater, made of thick houndstooth fabric that fell just shy of her knees, but it hugged her hips close enough to create a perfect, seamless contour with her blouse, tracing her figure as faithfully as if she were wearing nothing at all. "Good god."

Millie reached up to nudge his chin, guiding his eyeline back up to her face so he could see her roll her eyes, but she failed to suppress her smile, or the rosy hue blossoming over her cheeks. "I don't remember you being such a dog."

"Sorry," he replied, dropping his hands back to his sides sheepishly. "I might be a little pent up. You, um—you look beautiful."

"You look—" Now her eyes fell as she rested a hand against his chest. The red and black flannel he wore was one she'd seen a hundred times before, but it fit him so differently now, she nearly mistook it for an entirely new shirt. "In shape."

"I've been working on my stamina," he said with a grin. It sounded sexier (and required far less backstory) than I had to start exercising to mitigate the brain damage that turned me into a complete asshole. They'd get to all that eventually.

"And you wear glasses now," she said, looking back up at him and running her fingertips along one plastic temple.

He pulled back, flushing. "Sorry, I left in such a hurry, I didn't have time to put in contacts—"

"I like them," she said. "They look good on you. Very sexy librarian."

"Can men be sexy librarians? I feel like that's a fairly gendered trope."