Bennett was staring at me. I tried really hard not to notice, but it was pretty much impossible. His eyes followed me everywhere I went. He was so busy watching me that he almost caught the meatballs he was making on fire (his idea of a great dinner was spaghetti and meatballs made from scratch). That aside, his constant gaze was making me uncomfortable. Even while we were eating dinner he was staring and he missed his mouth at least five times, leaving a trail of tomato sauce down his chin, which he didn't wipe away in time, so it left a stain on his pale skin.

I ate with my head down, so I didn't have to make eye contact with him. Why was he acting so weird? Was it because I told him about my family? If I'd known he was going to react like this, I wouldn't have mentioned it. His change in demeanor and attitude was so drastic and sudden it creeped me out. Did he really feel that badly for treating me the way he had been? I appreciated it, but maybe he was taking it too far.

Suddenly my mind flashed back to him hugging me—his embrace was tighter than I thought it would be. Maybe he worked out? He felt nice...

I shook my head. No, Henley. I couldn't think like that. Just because I was a little attention deprived and craved human contact didn't mean I should have thoughts about Bennett. He was my employer.

I peeked back up at him and he jumped a little as if surprised to be caught staring. His food once again missed his mouth and he didn't make any move to wipe it away. Sighing, I picked up my napkin and soaked it in my water before reaching over to wipe his face for him.

"What are you doing?" he said, snatching my wrist into his hand and holding it away from him.

"You have sauce on your mouth. It's kind of gross."

His cheeks tinted pink and let go of me, grabbing the napkin out of my hand and wiping around his mouth. "Sorry about that."

He was apologizing again? "What is up with you?" I demanded.

"With me?"

"Yes. You keep staring at me. And apologizing. It's weird."

He frowned. "I'm not staring at you."

I gave him a flat look. "Really?"

"I'm just not sure how I should treat you now," he admitted. "I've never met someone in your situation."

"Uhh, maybe treat me like you would treat any other human being?" I shot back at him. "I'm poor. I'm not dying or anything."

He made an oh-shit expression. "That came out wrong."

"I bet it did."

"I just mean that now I'm more aware of how I've been mistreating you," he clarified. "Now I don't know what to say as to not offend you."

I shifted in my seat a little. "I mean, I already said it's okay. You're forgiven. Let's just put it in the past."

He shook his head. "I'm going to try to be less rude to the lesser fortunate."

"What you said right there? Yeah, that's kind of offensive," I said, smiling a little bit. It was almost cute. Almost. If you put aside the whole insulting bit. At least he was trying.

His eyes widened. "It is?"

"Don't overwork yourself, I know this will be difficult for you," I told him, leaning across the table again to pat his hand.

When I tried to pull away, he grasped my hand in his again. "Don't you resent me?" he asked.

I tried to free my hand but he held it tight. "No? Why?"

"I basically bribed you into being my pretend girlfriend. I knew you needed money and I could give you a lot. I knew you wouldn't say no."

"Dude, Bennett, chill," I responded, so not wanting to listen to his lamenting. "As I said, as long as you understand what you've done wrong, that's fine. Stop thinking about it. You're just going to make things awkward."

He frowned for a little while longer and it reminded me of a puppy being scolded and for the second time, I thought Bennett looked cute. Maybe it was because he lost his cocky attitude for the time being.

"You're not eating your meatballs," he finally commented.

"Uh, I don't actually like spaghetti and meatballs," I said sheepishly.

"Why didn't you say so?" he demanded.

"You seemed so excited, I didn't want to ruin it," I told him, shrugging. "It's fine though. The noodles aren't bad."

"What do you usually eat?" he asked, leaning forward in his seat a little.

"Whatever doesn't need to be cooked. I really don't have time to eat during the day. Sometimes I like to treat myself to Taco Bell though."

He regarded me like an alien specimen for a moment and then I saw his eyes do a once over on my body and I felt the urge to flip him off. "You can eat that plastic-wrapped garbage?"

Now it was my turn to frown. "Have you ever tried it?"

"Have you ever read the ingredients—"

"Everyone knows how bad it is for you, you don't need to lecture me," I cut him off, rolling my eyes. "It's a slow, delicious death."

He eyed me warily. "That doesn't sound pleasant."

"I'll bring you to Taco Bell sometime. It's the only date I can take you on that I can afford," I said jokingly.

Unfortunately, he must've thought I was serious because that pitying look returned to his eye. "I'm worried about your health."

"And I'm worried about your non-existent enthusiasm to try new things," I countered. "Wouldn't it be better to learn about my life so it can help you to not offend me?"

He considered this for a moment. "I guess you're right."

"I'll show you the poor side of life," I told him brightly.

"Right..."

There was a moment of silence and then my phone buzzed and I reached for it, seeing my boss from Coffee House had texted me. Can you open for me tomorrow? I'm sick.

"Ughhh," I groaned.

"What?"

"My boss is sick and wants me to cover him. That means I have to go in at 4 AM."

"Four in the morning?" Bennett repeated.

I checked the clock. It was already almost nine. "I've got to head home after we finish eating."

"Why are you going in so early? Just say no."

"Nah, I want the money," I responded, knowing I'd get overtime if I went in early. It would make it worth it.

For a moment it seemed as though Bennett was going to argue with me, but he just sighed lightly. "Are you done? We can leave now; I'll finish eating later. You're barely going to get any sleep. You need at least eight hours of sleep each night."

"I usually survive on five," I told him, standing from the table. "Do you need help cleaning up?"

"No, I'm not paying you to clean up. I can do it after. Let's go."

As we left his house, I caught myself glancing back at the room he'd scolded me for almost entering earlier. Seeing how it was his brother's room, I get that he didn't want me going in there. But did his brother still live here or not? Why would Bennett leave his room set up if he didn't? Maybe his family was just as messed up as mine.

Bennett held the door open for me and we headed for his fancy BMW. I turned the radio on as soon as the car started, enjoying the rare moments of Sirius XM. Surprisingly, Bennett didn't start talking immediately. Even when we were halfway to my house he hadn't spoken. I really began to think he was taking what I said way too seriously.

"So what's the next step of your plan?" I asked, deciding to break the silence.

"Of what?"

"Tricking your mom," I clarified.

Bennett drummed his fingers on his steering wheel. "Hmm. I do believe she'll be coming to talk to me tomorrow at work, so I can really pretend I'm falling for you hard."

I nodded. I guess that would be the next step. "What are you going to say? You should say that I've got the best personality in the world and I'm as cute as a button."

"I wouldn't be pretending if I said that," he responded and I caught my breath. He'd agreed with me? He seemed to realize what he said, too, because he quickly coughed. "Well, I mean, I've seen girls cuter than you."

"Wha—hey!" I snapped.

"I will say something along the lines of that though," he continued, ignoring my indignant huff of air.

I crossed my arms. "I bet she won't believe you."

"Why do you think that?"

"No one could fall for you with your attitude," I remarked offhandedly.

Bennett whipped his head toward me. "What? I have a very charming, tactful personality! I've closed many deals and solved many issues with my personality."

"I can't believe you just described yourself as tactful."

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Just because I'm poor doesn't mean I'm illiterate."

"That was not what I was insinuating at all—"

"What does insinuate mean? I can't help not understanding, I'm just a poor girl. Nobody loves me. She's such a poor girl, from a poor family, spare her this life of monstrosity!" I sang, putting my hand to my heart.

"Henley," he said, sounding exasperating. "You know I didn't mean it like that. And why did you just start singing?"

I squinted my eyes at him. "They're lyrics."

"What are?"

"Bohemian Rhapsody?" I said.

"Bo-what?"

I put a hand to my forehead. "And I thought I've had a rough life... no wonder your radio is never on."

"I'm not a fan of music," Bennett defended himself, coming to a stop at a red light. "What's your street address again?"

I told him while pulling out my phone to show him one of the greatest songs in musical history. "I can't believe you don't know it."

"Music distracts me."

"I really think we were destined to meet Bennett," I told him solemnly. "You obviously need a positive influence in your life and that influence is me."

He turned to me with the most apprehensive expression on his face. "I'm starting to feel our age difference. When you get older you don't have much time for—"

"Don't act like you're thirty," I interjected. "Who really grows up, anyway?"

The light changed to green and he hit the gas just as I figured out how to sync my blue tooth to his car. Making sure the volume was a notch louder than he was comfortable with, I began playing the song. Bennett's face was expressionless for the intro to the song. I bit my tongue to keep from singing so he could just enjoy it.

"Mama, just killed a man," I sang quietly, unable to resist any longer.

"That's disturbing," Bennett commented.

I turned down the volume and scowled. "Just be quiet and enjoy it."

Bennett nodded and I turned the volume back up. As we were pulling onto my street, the song was ending, and I didn't get out of the car until the last note finished. I pushed on the overhead light so that I could see Bennett's reaction. "Amazing, right?"

His face still held that unsure look. "It's... different."

"But amazing?"

"I liked your singing," he said.

I blushed immediately. "That wasn't— why were you listening to me sing! You missed the point."

"But—"

"No buts! I'm leaving! Buy that song and listen to it until you know the lyrics by heart," I said quickly, reaching for the door. He liked my singing? I sounded like a dying whale. I'd gotten too into the song. How embarrassing.

"Henley," Bennett responded, chuckling a bit.

I turned to give him a dirty look, but froze when I caught sight of light in my room in my apartment. "Wait..."

"What?"

I felt dread run through my chest. "I didn't leave my light on when I left."

Bennett looked up at my apartment too. "Are you sure?"

"Positive..." My mind flashed back to the multiple squatters I'd seen earlier. "Oh no," I gasped, ripping my seatbelt off.

"What?"

"No, no, no," I chanted, shoving the door open and scrambling out of it. I raced around the car, only to have Bennett open his door and grab me by the arm.

"Wait," he demanded.

I stared at him with wide eyes. "I think someone might have broken in."

"Then don't go in there alone," he said, all of the early lightheartedness between us gone.

My heartbeat against my chest almost painfully. I took a couple breaths to calm myself. "It's fine. I might have actually just left the light on. You should go home. I know being around this part of town makes you nervous."

"Right now, I'm more nervous to leave you alone."

I waved him off, jerking my hand more than I should have. "I'm fine. Go home."

"Let me come in with you—"

"No," I responded immediately. He let go of my arm and I felt guilty for being so harsh. "I mean. It's probably nothing. You were right when you said you'd get asbestos in there."

He didn't look convinced.

I glanced back up at my apartment. If I were honest, I was a little scared to go up there alone. I knew for sure I did not leave that light on. "Fine," I mumbled. "Come to the door. But don't go in."

"I can accept those terms," he agreed. "Let me text my assistant first."

"Why?"

"In case someone is in there and something happens," he replied and pulled out his phone.

I gave him a wry look. "I doubt it'll be that bad."

"I'm an important person," he answered me and then slid his phone back into his pocket. "Alright, let's head in."

Everything was eerily quiet when I entered the building. The lights were off and the door was shut. Usually, the hallway light would be on and the first-floor room's door would be opened a crack to let the light filter in. I ignored it and headed up the steps.

The first obvious sign of something being wrong was my door being open. My heart skipped a beat and a thousand thoughts ran through my head. Who was it? What did they take? Maybe they just wanted some food?

Bennett brushed past me and I opened my mouth to tell him not to open it, but he pushed the door all the way open before I could. The sight before me was enough to shut me up, anyway. All my belongings were strewn across the floor. It looked like someone had looked through everything of mine and ripped open whatever looked like something could be hidden inside. All the books on my bookshelf were on the ground and open, meaning the spines were now all screwed up. My crappy, five-year-old T.V was gone, as well as my DVD player. A lamp was missing. A fleece blanket that my father had given me was gone as well.

"I'm going to call the cops," Bennett announced, his face impassive. I couldn't tell what he was thinking at all.

I didn't care at the moment either. It was tough to take in the scene. My place was completely trashed.

My home was ruined.