“Happy to stay as long as you want, but yeah. There are syringes to sell and we’re one girl down in sellin’ ’em.”

I grinned.

She shifted out of the way and swung an arm toward the door.

I took her invitation and headed that way. Once in the bedroom, I didn’t waste time taking a load off, stretching out on the bed, pillows tucked behind me, upper body resting back.

That was a lot better.

“You want me to come tonight, company and a buffer?” Asheeka asked and I looked up at her.

I would love that. It was sweet as all get-out and would help a lot.

But she was late for work for me and I’d need her to come around to Benny’s for at least a couple more days. I didn’t need to suck all her time and goodness. I was not a fan of owing markers, and with me moving away, I wouldn’t have many opportunities for her to call them.

“I’ll be okay,” I answered.

“You keep sayin’ that, and I know you want me to believe it, but gotta say, honey, not sure that I do.”

I gave her a face and she returned a grin. Then she bent down, grabbed my hand, and gave it a squeeze.

“You need me, you know how to get me.”

“Yeah, babe. I do. And I appreciate it like you wouldn’t believe. Thank you,” I replied.

That got me another squeeze and a smile before she let me go and walked out.

“Later!” I called as she did.

“Later, girl!” she called back.

When she was gone, I looked to the nightstand to see if Ben left the remote.

He did not.

Something about that made me want to giggle out loud.

Perhaps my TV ploy did work.

I was reaching for Vogue when Benny walked in. I watched him do this. I also watched him come to a dead stop five feet in, eyes on me.

“I attacked my hair this morning,” I declared. “That’s a feat that’s difficult to conquer on the best of days, so, Warden, if you intend to force me to walk down to the commissary for breakfast, I’m gonna have to starve until lunch.”

Ben said nothing.

I kept talking. “If you bring me something to eat and more coffee, I’ll be nice to you for fifteen minutes.”

Ben still didn’t speak.

So I allowed, “Okay, twenty.”

Benny planted his hands on his h*ps but said not a word.

I went on. “And you can bring the remote back. Last night, I saw the Entenmann’s coffeecake on your counter. For a slice, I won’t f**k with your TV all day.”

“Told you, you can’t have sex. Doctor’s orders.”

I felt my head jerk in surprise at his words before I asked, “What?”

“Babe, you want me to f**k you, you give me big hair, a hint of a bra I’ll wanna see covering your tits before I’ll wanna take it off, and skin.”

My stomach tightened and not in a bad way.

But…

Was he crazy?

“What?” I asked, louder this time.

“Actually, you want me to f**k you, you gotta breathe. You want me to f**k you immediately, you give me that hair, a hint of bra, and show some skin.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What is up with you?”

“You play games with all that” —he flicked a hand in my direction— “you get repercussions.”

“Benny, what…the hell…are you talkin’ about?” I demanded to know.

“Hair, bra, nightie, skin,” was his absurd (and repetitive) answer.

“Gina bought me this nightie, Ben,” I informed him. “It’s like a dress.”

“It’s clingy and shows skin,” he informed me.

“It’s one of the only choices I have, seein’ as you didn’t take me home so I’d have different choices,” I retorted.

“Then I’ll set Ma on hittin’ your house to get you different choices.”

This would be a wasted chore as the nighties I had at home were way clingier and showed a whole lot more skin.

Therefore, I advised, “Actually, if you can’t control your base instincts, you should send her to the granny section of Macy’s.”

He got my drift and I knew it when his jaw got hard. “You doin’ that shit to f**k with me?”

“Fuck with you how?”

“Bein’ a tease, babe. A tease recovering from a f**kin’ GSW, which means I can’t teach you the lesson you should get for bein’ a tease.”

I felt my blood start to get hot, and this time, it was in a bad way.

“What, in all that I’ve done and said in the last week and a half, would give you the impression I’d tease you, Benny Bianchi?” I snapped.

“You, lyin’ in my bed, dressed like that, lookin’ like that.”

“I did my hair and put on a nightgown!” Now I was shouting.

“Precisely,” he returned.

“Are we really having this conversation?” I asked sarcastically, as well as still loudly.

“You got a robe?” he asked back.

Oh shit. I did.

Since I did, I glared.

Benny read my glare, dropped his hands from his hips, stalked to my bag, and dug through it, yanking out my robe.

He then stalked to the bed and dropped it in my lap, whereupon he announced, “Ma’s on her way over.”

I closed my eyes and forgot to be pissed because panic was gathering around my heart.

“She’s gonna be cool with you, Frankie,” Benny stated.

That was what I was panicked about. She was going to be cool. Sweet. Kind. Motherly. All this while feeling badly because she’d been in the wrong and something extreme happened that brought that to light. And her feeling badly would make me feel badly. Then I’d have to accept all the goodness of her, knowing I’d have to give it up again, my choice this time.

The bed depressed and my eyes flew open to see Benny sitting on it, again, hip to hip.

“Can you give me a hint why this is so difficult for you, babe?” he asked, sounding less peeved.

“Which part?” I asked.

“Any of it,” he answered.

“No,” I finally answered his question.

“You’re not gonna let me in there, even a little bit.” He stated this as a fact, but I decided to take it as a statement that needed affirmation.

“No, I’m not,” I agreed.

“Then I’m gonna hafta dig in there.”

I drew in a breath.

Benny digging in there.

God seriously freaking hated me.

It was time to put my plan in motion so I did.