There was a flutter in her belly when Ben grinned at her, that awareness of the attractiveness of the man that was her friend. Who had been her friend for a year and a half. She did not think it was that romantic flutter that spelled out wanting to fall into another person in flowers and wine, promises and sweet nothings, no. At first she thought it might be that, when they had tumbled into bed together that Halloween before and had stayed there tangled up in each other until morning and a breakfast of more than a little soft awkwardness (at least on her part), and had kept her distance from that attraction because of it.
"Just a second more," she told him, her smile turning into a full out grin in the face of his because she could not help but do anything less. She had to think of the fact that she had had men as friends before and not felt that pull of lust, had known Danny all her life and not thought about him the way she found herself thinking about Ben before she pulled herself back. Those wanderings into terms of naked skin and laughter, breathlessness and the press of his lips.
"Here," she finished placing the satay skewers on a plate and picked up the serving dish of the ingredients of the lettuce wraps they would still need to assemble themselves, and held both out to him. "Can you take these?" The bowl of peanut sauce and the pitcher of Thai tea she could take herself, out to where two glasses and napkins set waiting out for them in the cleared space before the sofa.