If You Asked Me To

Miranda released a breath so long and so deep that she could feel her lungs contract. No matter how many times she shook her head, she couldn't make sense of the situation. Turning to the door, she scowled at it. In what world did Ben think that she wanted to hear anything he had to say?

Wait a damn minute.

Why was there silence? The door wasn't rattling. The bell wasn't ringing. Where the hell was he? Her heart paused for a second. Did he leave? Was that it? Were they… done? As mad as she was, Miranda knew that she wasn't ready to let him go.

She tore open the door and tried to keep her face straight when she saw him standing there, sexy, unruffled. "Missed me?"

"No," she told him quickly, straightening her spine as her breathing returned to normal. "I wanted to make sure you weren't lurking in my doorway, yet here you are."

"Sorry I disappointed you then."

She opened the door some more. "You didn't."

"That's a relief."

She leaned against the hard and cool mahogany, trying her best to stand her ground. But taking him in again, she saw that he'd pushed up the sleeves of his shirt and under the front porch light, one vein in particular was asking to be fingered. And she wanted to be the one to do it. "What do you want, Ben?" She asked, exasperated.

"Can I explain? Please."

Determined footsteps approached her from behind. "Miranda?" Dani asked.

Miranda and Ben made eye contact. "I'm okay, Danielle," she said, swatting away her sister's concern.

"It doesn't sound like everything's okay," the older Bailey remarked. She couldn't see her face, but she knew that her sister was staring spitefully at the man in the doorway who was waiting for Miranda to say something—anything! "And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you—"

"Miranda?" He cut in, his face unsmiling now.

"Excuse me, I was asking you a question."

Ben rolled his eyes at Dani and then looked at Miranda again. "Do you ever speak for yourself? Or do your sisters always have to put in their two cents?"

Dani huffed and moved toward them, her hands on her hips. "Don't talk to her like that."

"That was actually more of a shot at you," he told her. Miranda watched their back and forth, wondering if she should jump in; although they both seemed to have forgotten that she was still standing there. "She's a capable adult."

"And you're pompous."

Ben shrugged. "And you're aggravating. So, let's call it even."

Miranda swallowed a giggle before saying: "Dani, I got it, really." Her sister turned and headed for the stairs. The surgeon glared at her new friend who put his hands together and began silently apologizing. "Not to me."

Ben's forehead creased and he moaned a little. She cocked a brow, forcing his hand. "Uh, Danielle, wait," he called out from beyond the front door. The professor spun, pursing her lips, knowing that she was getting the win. "That's my bad. I'm sorry."

"So I'm not aggravating?" Dani asked.

He smiled at Miranda. "Oh, no, you definitely are. I just should have said that to your sister and not to you."

The younger Bailey burst out laughing and the other two did the same. "What is he on?" Dani asked.

Miranda hid a grin behind her hand, saying: "Alright, alright, that's enough." She pointed at the stairs. "Back to bed, you." When she and Ben were alone once again, she returned to a serious state: "Why are you here?"

"We need to talk, Miranda," he said, his tone changing from pleading to demanding.

If she ignored his request, she could just move on and she'd be just fine, her life would continue, she'd find someone else… eventually… but they wouldn't be him. "About?"

"About the fact that I was not on a date."

"Good to know. Okay. See you later," she said, pushing the door. Ben put his hand on it, stopping her. That vein was looking at her again, tempting her. "What are you—"

"My team was there for dinner," he said with a nervous laugh. "The rest of them left to hit a club. But I didn't want to go because I knew I'd be with you in a few hours." Her face was one giant question mark. "I didn't want to be all sweaty."

And Vic? "Oh! Well, thank you for clearing that up. I'm sorry for the commotion that my sisters caused," she apologized. "I hope we didn't ruin your night."

He took her hand sweeping her palm with his thumb. It was so sensual, she almost forgot that she'd ever been furious with him. "And Vic and I are just friends. She needed someone to talk to and I offered." Their fingers puzzled like magic. "So with everyone else gone, we were able to do that."

Miranda's brain jumped wondering what the truth really was: what she saw or what he was saying. "Hmm."

He smirked. "Still…?"

"I saw you on what looked like a date."

"And there's no room for understandings or misunderstandings?"

She wanted to believe him, she really did, but… "You said you wanted to be with me and you were with this gorgeous wo—"

"You're gorgeous, too," he interjected.

"I know," she answered, semi-crossly. "And I looked really good tonight."

"So damn good," Ben echoed, biting his bottom lip a little.

She cut her eyes at him playfully. "Stop it." In the midst of everything, they cracked up and Ben clapped softly wrapping up his laughter. "Just… what am I supposed to think?"

"You think, 'I wonder what that fool is gonna say for himself'. You don't… shut me out."

Now she was smirking. "And that's why you're you and I'm me."

"Miranda…"

"No, look, if… if you were in my position…"

"I'd be hard pressed," he said honestly. "Which is why…" Reaching into his pants pocket with his free hand, he took out his phone and clicked around for a second before giving it to her. On the screen was a group photo. Zooming in, on the left side was Ben smack dab between Vic and another guy she recognized from social media, Miller… Something or Something Miller. The three of them were mid-laugh.

"Check the timestamp."

She didn't need to do that. She trusted him. Miranda shook her head saying: "That's a very nice picture." She gave the phone back to him, happily defeated.

Ben glanced at it again before putting it away. "Can I come in or are you still mad?"

"You can," she began. "But, in an attempt at transparency, I am still a little mad."

"But I—"

"Not at you." Ben exhaled dramatically as she closed the door, locking it. In the living room, she released his hand to move the blankets and pillows out of the way. "Ignore about the mess."

He looked around, surveying the room. "Women always say 'ignore the mess' and it's a sheet of paper on the coffee table."

"Just sit down," she told him letting go of an easy smile. "You can sit right there." Miranda pointed from one chair to another. "Or over there. That one's comfortable, too." She willed herself to stop talking and to just relax while they got settled. She had her back to the front door, laying against the arm of the longest chair. The distance between them was jarring. It was just a few weekends ago that they were cuddled next to each other, kissing. Now they were back to square one.

"So, who are you mad at?"

Miranda pulled up her left leg up, tucking it beneath her right thigh. "Come again?"

He slid to the edge on the other side, facing her. "You said you were mad, but not at me, thank God, so… who's the target for your anger?"

She grinned. "It's not really anger, Ben. It's frustration and nervousness." She licked her lips. "It's… uncertainty," she told him. "I'm mad at me."

"Why?" He asked.

There were so many answers to that question. Where did she even begin? The room was still while she collected her thoughts. "We're only kind of dating, so I shouldn't have such big feelings about you." She hung her head. "But I do. I saw you with Vic tonight and all of my composure about, uh… what we are and how we are," she laughed a little unaware that Ben was moving toward her as she spoke, "it went out of the window. And I hate that."

Ben picked up her hand again and she felt like sinking into the couch more, sinking into him. "Can I just… can I say one thing?" Miranda nodded, not trusting herself to speak without her voice cracking. "We're not kind of dating. We are dating."

"You know what I mean."

"I don't think I do," he said. "You don't think I lost my shit when I got out of the truck today and saw you standing there?" She blushed. "Yeah, you looked so…" Ben pulled his bottom lip in again. "I was shaking in my boots."

Miranda laughed, hitting him with her unoccupied hand. "You weren't."

"I was!" He insisted. "But we were working, so I couldn't…" Miranda readjusted, untangling her legs. "I couldn't touch you how I wanted to." She only realized that she'd been holding her breath when Ben smoothly draped her arms on his shoulders. "I couldn't kiss you how I wanted to." His lips met hers and she exhaled softly into his mouth, insisting that her body remember to breathe or she'd pass out.

That polar icecap cool that she thought she'd had was now as warm as a beer left out of the cooler on a summer night. It was totally gone. Miranda grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer, their torsos millimeters apart. Her nipples were standing at attention and there was a storm raging between her thighs. When she moaned, her mouth opened allowing each of them to get a better taste of the other. Could he tell how badly she wanted him? Did she even know? Putting her hand to his chest, she paused their session. Ben's eyes opened slowly and he smiled. "Oh, don't give me that look, Benjamin Warren," she said sitting up, making him do the same.

"What look, Miranda Bailey?"

"That 'I knew it' look." Miranda crossed her arms and discreetly used her fingertips to push down her stiff nipples. "It's infuriating."

"But I did," he said straightening up more, his arm on the back of the chair. "You're so into me."

She scoffed lazily. "Am not."

"Are too, sweetheart," he shot back with a wink.

"Maybe I am," she heard herself saying. "But I don't want to play any games or have any games played on me." The confession came from somewhere deep inside of her. "You know that I… I am recently divorced. Which was hard in and of itself, so I don't have time for messiness right now."

He locked her in with his brown eyes, silently making promises that she felt foolish about believing. "I'm not playing games, Miranda." He put the back of her hand to his lips in the purest gesture that she was sure turned her pupils to hearts.

"Good," she said, relieved.

"Good." They both took deep breaths. "Now that we've cleared that up. What were you up to?"

"Uh, I was… watching a little TV," Miranda told him.

"Can I watch with you?"

"Sure, I mean… unless you have to be somewhere else."

"I'm all yours," he replied. The swallowtails in her stomach flapped around. He was hers?! Did he have any clue as to how that sounded? "What were you watching?" He asked, moistening his lips.

Miranda grinned and leaned into his chest. "Killer Couples."

He laughed. "Seriously?"

She nodded. "Not a fan?"

"I don't want you getting any ideas," he said, rubbing her shoulder.

Turning her head to look up at him, she said: "Then stay on my good side."

"See, you think that's cute, but you know how to use a scalpel, so…" He smirked. "I'm terrified," he said softly, kissing her forehead before moving down to her mouth. He focused on her plump lower lip, coursing it with his tongue, teasing her with his lips and positively making her toes curl. God, could he kiss!

"Okay, okay, hon, that's enough," she whined, pulling away, fanning herself with her hand wishing she could dunk her body into a tub of ice-cold water.

He grunted while inconspicuously fixing the front of his pants. "Okay." Halfway through the episode, her stomach rebelled, emitting a loud noise. "That you?"

"I didn't get to have dinner," she said, huffing.

"I feel partially responsible."

"Par—" She rolled her eyes.

He ran a hand over his head. "I'll take that. But why didn't you say anything?"

Because you were touching me in ways my skin hasn't processed yet. "I forgot."

"Well, we can do something about that. Let's go out."

"It's like… midnight."

"I know a place."

Miranda jabbed his chest lightly. "It's not your place, is it?"

He shook his head, grinning, and skepticism colored her face. "Hey, stranger things have happened."

"That is true," she said with a nod, "I once had this man ask me out on a date at seven in the morning."

Ben let out a hearty laugh. "Bet you had fun though."

"You know what… I did."

"You gotta tell me about that one day." She walked toward the stairs. "Where are you going?"

"To… change?"

He scanned her body from head to toe, squinting. "But I like your outfit."

She shook her head, holding in a smile. The t-shirt she was wearing wasn't her own, either belonging to Dani or Val. And her pink pajama pants that she'd had since college bore a huge hole in the inner thigh. She was surprised that she'd even opened the door and let him in, much less let him hug and kiss her. Her mother and grandmother would be so disappointed. "That's nice of you to say, but I'm still going to change."

"Fine. But you look really good."

"I know," she told him over her shoulders, catching his eyes on the lower half of her body.

Instead of following him to the restaurant, she opted to ride with him taking the opportunity to learn more about this Ben Warren. And everything she saw and heard amazed her. He'd started in medicine, but just before he finished, he ended up switching careers on a spur-of-the-moment whim. "I still help people, but I'm the first stop, not the last."

He was even a great driver. Watching him steer his BMW had her exhaling softly and wondering what else his hands were capable of. "Where's your truck?"

"Parked in front of my place. I prefer using this one to get around."

"It's probably a lot easier."

Ben changed lanes and said it was. "Plus, I really only use my truck for special occasions."

"Like what?" She asked, slyly inviting him to compliment her.

"Liiike... a sunrise date with a drop dead gorgeous woman," he said, making light work of her faux subtleness.

"You're sweet."

"I know," he answered and she squeezed his hand. Getting to the restaurant, they walked inside glued together. Over powder sugar-dusted waffles and strawberry-laced pancakes, bacon, orange juice and several cups of coffee, they talked. The conversation spun seamlessly from superheroes to their goals for the future to what was the best side dishes for Thanksgiving. "The right answer is collard greens and… oh! And hush puppies."

Miranda just rolled her eyes. "Not when yams and macaroni and cheese are sitting right there."

"And they'll be sitting right there until the greens and hush puppies are gone."

She waved him off. "You just haven't tasted mine."

"I'm dying to," he said taking a sip of his coffee, staring at her over the brim.

"Don't be nasty," she warned with a sly smile.

"I'll try." He slid his arm across the table and touched her hand. "So, you can cook?"

"What makes you say that?" She asked picking up a piece of waffle that was soaked with syrup.

"Bragging about soul food means you can throw down in the kitchen!"

Miranda's face broke out into a wide smile. To let her sisters tell it, she couldn't cook a lick, but the one thing they all knew she could make was macaroni and cheese. Having watched her grandmother make it hundreds of times, she was the only grandchild who was able to correctly emulate the older woman's recipe. "I do okay," she said to him. "Uh, what about you? Do you cook?"

"Yeah, my mom made sure I knew how to cook and she's trying, bless her heart, to teach my brother, but… I don't think it's gonna go anywhere."

The two of them let out a loud laugh. "I'm sure Dwayne will get the hang of it eventually."

"Yeah, well, I am not going to keep taste-testing to find out. He's old enough now to start trying to poison me on purpose." His straight face made her crack up.

She'd noticed a while ago that he didn't talk about his little brother as often as she did her sisters, mostly attributing that to the age gap of the two Warren men. It so fascinated her that she had built-in best friends from birth so she'd never really felt the need to seek out companions elsewhere, be it at school or at work. Whereas, Ben also thought of his Marcel and Vic and Dean as his siblings—people he'd do anything for, including going into collapsing buildings or climbing over burning objects. There were only a few folks she worked with that she'd even think of doing those things for, but for most, they would be on their own. "And he's younger than you by… 15 years, right?"

"Seventeen. Good memory. That's right."

She gave herself an imaginary pat on the back. "I listen when you speak."

"That's good to hear," he said averting his gaze to the table, fiddling with his fork for a second. When he lifted his head, they made eye contact and his smile returned. "But, anyway, he's such a good kid. When you meet him, you'll see. He grinned and Miranda loved that his eyes brightened when he spoke about his friends and family.

"I can't wait," she told him already wondering how meeting his family would go. Unfortunately, Tucker's mom had never liked her though she'd never explicitly stated that. But Miranda figured as much when she'd declared that she wanted a super-small, micro wedding, and Ann Jones had taken it upon herself to invite fifty people before the soon-to-be married couple had even discussed the guest list. That woman was a menace and it made so much sense how she was able to raise a man who was just as selfish. She prayed that Ben's parents weren't like that. But what if they didn't like her? Or worse, preferred his ex?

Apprehension threatened to overtake her until he chuckled, saying: "And they'll adore you."

Miranda exhaled. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah, especially my mom, she's gonna be so happy that I'm dating a doctor. Someone 'focused' as she would say."

"Not like you," she joked.

"Not like me, exactly. Though I like to think that I am very focused on the things..." Picking up his juice again, he stared at her. "… and the people who matter."

Immediately, the apprehension dissipated and was replaced by a need to be flirty. She licked her lips, leaning over her plates. "And am I one of those people who matter?"

His eyes landed on her lips for a second before copying her movement, putting his elbows on the table. A gold chain slipped out from beneath the collar of his shirt and dangled over his half-eaten food and something in her wanted to feel her lips against it, against his chest. "Maaaybe," he said bringing her back to the conversation.

Miranda did her best to keep her face stoic, but her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. "Oh, really? Hmm."

"I'm just kidding," he began, "I mean, at this juncture, you're the only one who matters." Ben bobbed his head from side to side. "Well, you and your… waffle."

Seconds from being flustered, she smiled as he reached over and cut another small piece of her waffle. The one they were sharing because his pancakes were just okay. "You get one of those comments." Ben pouted, trying to convey his innocence. "Unh-uh," she chuckled as he connected their fingers. "And I am doing you a massive favor by letting you slide. For now."

"Thank you," he said kissing the back of her hand. The clock on the wall of the diner gave them no indication that they should ever leave. And Miranda thanked it because she didn't want to. The longer they talked, the more she realized how much they had in common and their chemistry became stronger. Had they known each other for just a couple of weeks or all of their lives? She no longer knew the answer. "Uh, do you like sports? Or watch them at all?"

Miranda opened her mouth to tell him that she really wasn't a fan, but that when she was married, she often watched with Tucker. He'd never bothered to sit down with her when her favorite shows came on, claiming that they were 'too much'. But how many times had she watched the Ravens run up and down the field, learning the rules of the game, not because she cared, but because she simply wanted to be with him?

That all seemed like a lot to share, especially since she felt like she was always bringing up Tucker and he hadn't really talked about his ex, Jeanette, at all. Instead, Miranda began telling Ben that the closest thing to sports she'd watched recently were residents rushing around the hospital trying to win a bedazzled cellphone. "There was sweat and blood and tears, does that count?"

"Umm… no."

"Then, I guess not," she said as they cracked up. "But I take it you do?" He confirmed with a smile. "And you'd probably want me to watch with you?"

"Only if you wanted to."

Miranda "hmm-ed". "I ask a lot of questions during the game."

"Ask away."

"What if you miss something important?"

"I can rewind it."

She put a finger to her chin. "And if I wanted to bother you with hugs and kisses?"

"What game?" Her heart fluttered to the ceiling. "So would you?"

Her shoulders lifted quickly. "Eh, I'd pretend to at least," she answered, winking. "Especially since you watched 'Killer Couples' with me."

"It was… interesting. But the, uh, faces you made while we watched were my favorite part." Miranda blushed; she hadn't even noticed that he'd been staring at her. "It looked like you were taking notes."

"More than once, something from those shows has helped with a patient."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Obviously, I'm great at my job, but it's good to know a bit about the other side of it all, you know? How people's minds work."

"That makes sense," he said, nodding slowly. "And I'd watch it with you anytime."

"Looking forward to it," she said as he slid out of the booth and sat next to her. His arm around her waist was slightly uncomfortable, but she allowed it because she liked their closeness. Gosh, all she wanted to do was throw herself into him, embracing him. As it was turning out, his lips were her favorite things. So warm and smooth and always waiting to be kissed. Focusing, she asked: "Um, so… you go into an ice cream parlor…"

"Uh-huh."

"Step up to the counter," she said, setting the scene seriously.

"Mmhm. I'm at the counter."

"What flavor do you get?"

Ben shook his fiercely. "Aww, man, I'm not telling you that."

"What? Why not?"

The cute smirk on his lips almost turned her into a puddle. "You're gonna make fun of me."

"I… probably will," she said, sliding a hand to his knee.

"It's butter pecan."

Miranda nodded slowly before she laughed. "Like a 45-year-old soccer mom."

"Damn it. I knew you were gonna say that!" He chuckled, squeezing her tighter, tickling her a little.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding. Butter pecan is good. It's one of my favorites, too."

"Copycat," he laughed. "Um… who's your favorite singer?" She twisted her mouth to the side, thinking. "Seven, six—"

Shock spread across her face. "I'm being timed?!"

"Three, two—"

"Mmm… Why… ugh…"

She groaned a little as he made a dinging noise by tapping his food-covered fork against his glass of water. "Time's up," he chuckled.

"That's not funny, Ben. That's too hard of a question."

"Choose," he said unbothered by her stress.

"Fine. I think I'm going to have to say… Patti LaBelle."

"Great answer."

Miranda picked up the last piece of her waffle and put it towards the lips she couldn't take her eyes off of. Syrup dripped onto the plate as she taunted him with the delicious food. She moved it close, pulling it back just as he was about to sink his teeth into it. He growled and she took a bite, licking her lips. "You don't know nothing about Ms. Patti."

"Are you testing me?" Distracted by the powder falling onto her shirt, she nodded. Catching her off-guard, he bit the crispy dough. "Mmm."

"Damn it."

"That's good. Thank you," he said, kissing some syrup off of her fingers.

"You're welcome." Now Miranda was completely turned on. He was really making it hard not to jump him. Right here, right now in this diner past the eyes of a few other patrons and the very nice waitress.

His lips brushed her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "If… you… asked me to… I just might change my mind and let you in my life forever." His voice was deep and rich and she couldn't stop her ankles from crossing beneath the table. "Still think I don't?"

"Maybe you do," she said, hoping she didn't sound as undone as she felt. "Maybe you do."

"Hey, so, I meant to ask earlier, but how's Rachel?" He inquired, changing the subject as if they hadn't practically been engaging in foreplay.

Miranda swallowed and tilted her head just a little. He really was some kind of guy. That he remembered the woman's name at all was impressive—she'd worked with other doctors who had a hard time remembering patients they'd seen multiple times—but that he cared was kind; especially since Rachel was their first known mutual patient. "Uh, we had to go in… minor procedure, so she should make a full recovery."

"Great. That's great. I knew she'd be in good hands with you," he said. When they were finished eating, she moved the plates and placed her head on her hand. "Sleepy?" She nodded as Ben checked his watch. "It has been a long night, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, I think we should call it." She reached into her purse and he just sighed. "What?"

"This is a date, Miranda. I got it."

She pondered for a second. What qualified as an actual date? And was this really one? Or were they just grabbing a bite? While the questions shimmied through her brain, he got up to pay. She looked at the clock to see that it was going on two o'clock. Would they ever meet at regular people hours? That question made her laugh and she was still going when he sat back down next to her, asking what was so funny. "So, this is a date."

"Right. Did you not want it to be?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's two in the morning. Isn't that unusual for a date?"

"We don't have to go by anyone's rules but our own," he assured her.

"That's sweet, but…"

"No spontaneity."

Miranda inhaled and her posture changed. "I didn't say that. I do like spontaneous dates," she told him, gesturing, "but I also like planned dates at reasonable hours."

"Oh. Right. Of course," he said touching her shoulder. "I didn't mean to imply otherwise. Completely understood." She relaxed. "So this is a date?"

Sure, Miranda confirmed with a nod. "Yes."

In the parking lot, he held her tight. "Thanks for coming out with me."

"This was a good call." She squeezed his arm possessively. "I'm glad our second official date is in the books."

"Imagine that. Husband and wife going on their second date after meeting just a few weeks ago," he said with a wide smile, opening the passenger side for her.

"Thank you, sir." In the car, he sat staring straight ahead, the engine whirring. They'd been talking nonstop since he'd showed up on her doorstep and now—nothing. "We're not moving." She turned to face him a bit. "Is something wrong?"

He clicked his tongue and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I've been trying to resist since we left your place, but all I can think about is…" Ben paused and she gritted her teeth. "…kissing you again." Miranda rolled her eyes. "And I'm sorry if it's coming off—"

She leaned over and pushed her lips against his. His tongue patiently waited for her to give him access to her own. And the moment she did, he dove right in and her body rose from the seat. "You were not the only one," she whispered when she returned to the chair and to Earth.

"Good," he said, twisting his finger gently around a few curls shaping her face.

The next kiss was deep and sensual and as she put her arms around his neck, she accidentally tapped the horn with her elbow. "Whoops!" She laughed, rubbing his head, getting used to having him in her arms.

"Well, that was the best 'whoops' I've ever experienced."

By the time they'd pulled up to her house, so many thoughts were swirling in her brain. Where did they go from here? Should she invite him in or wait for him to ask? Was she supposed to call or would he? Did they make plans for another day? Miranda's stomach jolted. This right here was precisely why she hated dating. There were too many questions and not enough answers. She just wanted to know what came next. And she really wanted to put some real effort into this relationship. Because it could really be something, she could feel it.

"Alright, um, I have a confession," he said.

Her heart raced. "Oh?" What in the world was he about to say now? Everything was going perfectly, what was there to confess? Maybe he did have a kid! "What's that?"

"Yeah, uh…" He paused and locked their fingers together. That was a good sign. "So…"

"For God's sake, Benjamin Warren, spit it out!" She said hurrying him along.

He sighed. "I really should… have gotten the waffle because yours was too good."

Miranda glared at him before crumbling into a fit of laughter. "Oh my God!" She cupped his handsome face with one hand and shook him gently. "I could tell," she answered, dropping her hand to back to his. "You tried to eat all of mine."

"I'll buy you another," he promised as she slid her fingers up his forearm tracing the vein that had caught her attention a few hours ago. Idly, she massaged the pulsating line, pressing it gently and watching it pop back up, ready. He made a fist and the vein became more prominent, giving her more of it to feel, turning her on so much that she snapped out her daze, squeezing her legs together. "You good?"

"Y-yeah."

Moments later, a black SUV pulled up beside Dani's car that was parked directly in front of them. "Who's that?"

"I don't know," she said because at almost two-thirty in the morning, all of the cars on the street looked like they belonged to someone she knew. "Both of my sisters' cars are here."

Ben touched her chin taking her attention away from the people in front of her house. "What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked.

The passenger side of the SUV opened and Val exited. Miranda gasped and turned her head as Ben's lips hit her cheek and he moaned. "Look at her," she murmured to herself. "Out at all hours of the night."

"So are you." She cut her eyes at him. "Or I'll just be quiet."

She agreed with a smile and they saw her younger sister pass the hood of the other car heading for the driver's side. The angle was terrible and the windows were tinted, but she watched, intrigued.

"Who's the driver?"

Miranda shrugged. "I think he's one of the ones from the speed dating event, the one she was at Della's with, but…" She hummed a bit. "He's not getting out of the car…"

His fingers brushed some hair from her face. "And that's a bad thing?"

"No, no, he just seemed like the type to."

"The type to…?" In the dark car lit by the moon, his brows rose as he waited for her to explain.

"To walk his date to her door."

"You could tell that's what he'd do?" She nodded a "yes" remembering how the other doctor had stood when she approached their table earlier. "Okay and what kind of guy am I?"

"You?" He licked his lips, waiting for her assessment. She slid her middle finger across his chin, comfortable. "You're going to get out, open mydoor and walk me to the front of my house," Miranda started, watching his face move subtly at her accuracy, "then kiss me goodnight, with eyes practically begging to come in, but you'll be humble when I decline."

Ben scoffed and chuckled. "You don't know me, woman."

She nodded, "Yeah, I do." Val walked toward the house and Miranda made sure she was inside before looking at Ben who was already staring at her. "Yes?"

"So…?"

"Right! Tomorrow. Working, sleeping, the usual," she lamented halfheartedly. "What about you?"

"I was hoping a gorgeous woman would let me take her out again."

"Let me see what I can do," she responded with a wink.

"You do that and I'll do this." He got out of the car and opened the door for her. They walked side by side to the house.

Turning to him, she held out her hand. "Thank you for a lovely evening, Ben."

He shook it. "It was pretty remarkable." She started to open the door and he pulled her into his arms, controlling her. Miranda both cursed and thanked her sisters for being home. No telling what would have happened if they'd been elsewhere. His hands drew a long line across her body from her shoulders, down past her arms before landing on her hips. Ben kissed her, groaning. Images of their lips barely touching as she straddled him, smiling as they found a rhythm and him whispering in her ear just before she climaxed flooded her mind.

She detached her lips from his, her body overflowing with pleasure. Miranda brushed her thumb across his lips reflexively. "Call me, Benjamin."

"No doubt, Miranda." Her shoulder caved when he said her name. Why was she feeling this way? Everything he did got a rise out of her.

Once Ben was gone, Miranda went to her room and showered before throwing herself into her bed, fatigue taking over. After being with him, she was full—physically and emotionally. There was a knock on her door and she thought about pretending to be asleep, but then she heard: "I know you're awake, Mandy." Val.

"Come in."

Her younger sister had since changed out of her dress and sat at the foot of the bed in a yellow bralette and matching shorts. The quietness told Miranda that Val had something she wanted to talk about. "Um, did you just get in?"

The older Bailey nodded. "You?" She asked as if she didn't already know the answer.

"Yeah, I did."

"Buuut it wasn't with Jackson."

Val shook her head. "I mean, he was nice and rich and fine, but…" She squished up her face. "I kinda left him at the club."

Miranda sat up and began speaking quickly. "Valerie! He and I are supposed to have coffee together and talk about forming some kind of…" She waved her hands about hastily. "Something! And you ditched him?!"

"I know. I know, Mandy, but he wasn't the one for me. I could just feel it. You know?"

Visions of the men she'd dated at the event flittered through her head. She'd known within minutes that none of them were right for her and that Ben was the man who deserved her attention. "Y-yeah, I get it," she responded. "So, who's the new guy?"

Val yawned and Miranda did, too. "Just, uh… some guy I met a while ago. He happened to be there and we got to talking."

"And kissing in the car?"

"I should call the authorities on you. You've been stalking me all damn night."

The two Bailey women giggled. "Well, Dani told me that you two followed me on a date with Tucker, so we're about even."

Val shifted her weight, rocking the bed. "We did? We did. Right. Your first date. Didn't go all that well."

"That's not how I remember it," Miranda said trying to conjure up some memory of that night from years ago. But all she could come up with was the last argument she and Tucker had gotten into—the one that had sent her running from their shared apartment to this very house blinded by tears. She'd said things she'd never wanted to say and the fact that they came out of her so easily scared her. I'm done, is what she'd told her sisters that fated morning. And she'd said it as if it had been a new thought when, in reality, wanting to leave had been nagging at her for quite some time.

"Miranda!"

"Yeah?"

"Your phone's ringing."

Reaching toward her nightstand, she prayed that it wasn't the hospital. There was nothing she could do to help unless it was an absolute emergency. She was exhausted. Ben's name was flashing on the screen adorned by couple of hearts. along with one of the pictures they'd taken in the park. He was smirking at her while she grinned at the camera. She definitely hadn't done all of that. The last time he'd called, his number was still unsaved and his icon was blank. She'd been meaning to change it, she just hadn't gotten around to it. Bypassing pleasantries as she answered the phone, she asked: "Uh, did you change your contact information in my phone?"

"Well, hello to you, too. And, yes, I did." She started to reply. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Is that really a question you want answered?"

As Ben laughed, Val tapped her leg. "I'm gonna go," she whispered.

"Wait, uh, did you need to talk about something else?" Miranda asked sincerely.

Val waved, shaking her head. "It… it can wait. Tell Ben I said: 'Heeeey!'" She twerked a little, laughing. "Night."

"Night, babe," Miranda replied as her sister slinked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Goodnight," Ben said in her ear.

She lay backward and stared at the ceiling. "I was not talking to you."

"You said 'babe,' I just took a shot."

She wrinkled her nose at the adorableness of his comment. "Why are you calling me at this hour? What if I had been asleep?"

"I saw something on Instagram about you having a date a little while ago, so I wanted to ask you how it went."

"Instagram?" Miranda pulled her phone from her face, putting him on speakerphone as she clicked around. "I don't even post on there." On the app, she scrolled, like she often did. There was a video of Val at the club, loud and dark—she double-tapped that. Callie had made a vague post about trust, indirectly telling the world that she and her girlfriend were fighting again. She'd talk to her later.

With another quick swipe, she saw a slightly older post of her ex-husband showing off his new car, awfully flashy and totally Tucker. Miranda rolled her eyes. It had been a year since they'd legally ended things and somehow, he was still able to drive her mad. Though if that were really true, why hadn't she blocked him on the app yet? Or like Dani suggested, reported his account for "annoyance"?

No part of her imagined that they'd get back together or that they'd even be friends again. In fact, she hadn't even bothered to answer the few times he had called since she'd last seen him. Too much had happened.

Continuing on, she searched for Ben's page and found the post that had been uploaded sometime during their date. As per her request a few weeks ago, she hadn't been tagged and her face hadn't been shown, but there was a picture of their uneaten food. Her shirt could also be seen on the other side of their table. The caption "Beautiful night with a beautiful woman" was accompanied by a purple heart sandwiched between a waffle and a pancake emoji.

The whole thing made her blush. "That's a nice picture. But did you have to put all my personal business out there?" She joked, her heart doing a dance in her chest.

"Was it the waffle emoji or the 'beautiful woman' that gave it away?"

Damn it, Ben! Any misgivings that she had about what they were or could be were slowly disappearing. It was all so simple."Both." She turned on her side and closed her eyes, quieting herself, her breaths getting deeper.

"Going to sleep?"

Miranda sighed softly, putting the covers over her head, creating a cocoon of satisfaction. "If you 'shhh' and let me."

"I can hang up. If you want," he offered kindly making her smile some more.

"Don't you dare."