Rumor Has It I'm Dating the Football Captain

Chapter 93: Chapter 93 : Someone Likes My Stress

The journalism office was entirely chaotic, which meant it was a perfectly normal Wednesday afternoon.

"Who wrote this?" Ben shouted. He waved a printed article in the air like a white flag of surrender. "Who wrote that the basketball team ’played nicely’? Nicely?! We are a sports section! We use words like ’dominated,’ ’crushed,’ or ’annihilated’! ’Nicely’ is for kindergarten playgrounds!"

The room was silent. None of the junior writers dared to make eye contact with him.

Daisy sat at her desk in the corner. She rested her chin in her hands and watched him.

Two days ago, she had stood on the freezing sidewalk and confessed that she liked him. He had rejected her. He told her she was rebounding from Leo. He told her he was too busy, too old, and completely uninterested in romance.

She had gone home and cried into her pillow for exactly twenty minutes.

But then she woke up the next morning, thought about the way Ben looked smoking that cigarette in the dark, and realized something entirely surprising.

She wasn’t rebounding anymore.

Leo was a safe, sweet dream. But Ben was real. He was messy, he cared entirely too much about his job, and he bought her terrible vending machine coffee when she was crying. She actually, genuinely liked him.

And Daisy Preston was surprisingly stubborn when she made up her mind.

Daisy stood up from her desk. She picked up a small paper bag and a large, steaming cup of coffee she had bought from the expensive cafe across the street. She walked directly over to the layout desk.

Ben was violently scribbling on the basketball article with a red pen. The ink was skipping. The pen was dying.

"Stupid, cheap plastic," Ben muttered, shaking the pen.

Daisy set the hot coffee down right next to his hand. Then, she opened the paper bag and pulled out a brand new, expensive pack of felt-tip red editing markers. She placed them neatly beside the coffee.

Ben stopped shaking his dead pen. He looked at the coffee. He looked at the high-grade markers. Then, he slowly looked up at Daisy.

"What is this?" Ben asked suspiciously.

"It is a dark roast coffee," Daisy smiled brightly. "Black. No sugar, so it won’t ruin your focus. And those are the good markers that do not bleed through the layout paper."

Ben stared at her. He looked around the office, then leaned over the desk.

"Preston," Ben whispered harshly. "Did you buy these with the department budget? Because Mrs. Higgins will literally execute me if we misuse funds."

"I bought them with my own money," Daisy said cheerfully.

"Why?"

"Because your pen was dying," Daisy explained. "And because I am courting you."

Ben literally choked on his own spit.

He coughed violently, slapping a hand against his chest. A few junior writers looked over in concern, but Ben waved them off, his face turning a bright shade of red.

"You are what?!" Ben wheezed.

"Courting you," Daisy repeated. She kept her voice pleasant and completely normal, like they were discussing the weather. "I decided you were wrong the other night."

Ben grabbed the edge of the desk. He looked entirely panicked. He was great at handling printing disasters. He was terrible at handling cute, curly-haired girls who smiled at him like he was the best thing in the room.

"I was not wrong," Ben argued quickly. He lowered his voice, frantically glancing around the room. "Daisy, we talked about this. I gave you the speech. I told you I am not a rebound."

"And I agree," Daisy nodded agreeably. "I am completely over Leo. He belongs with Chloe. That is entirely fine with me now. But I still like you. So, logic dictates that you are not a rebound. You are just a crush."

Ben rubbed his face aggressively with both hands.

"Preston, listen to me," Ben pleaded. He tried to pull out his stern, senior editor voice. "You do not like me. You just think I am a tragic charity case. I am a mess. I eat cold ravioli out of a can."

"I can cook," Daisy offered helpfully. "I make great pasta."

"I smoke cigarettes!" Ben added, pointing a finger at her. "It is a terrible, unhealthy habit!"

Daisy reached into her cardigan pocket. She pulled out a small, blue tin of strong peppermint mints. She popped the lid open and set it next to the red markers.

"For when you get a craving," Daisy smiled. "Mints help with the oral fixation."

Ben stared at the mints. He looked like his brain was completely short-circuiting. He could not find a single flaw she wasn’t ready to fix with absolute sunshine.

"Daisy, you are a freshman," Ben tried again, his voice sounding a little desperate. "You are supposed to go to frat parties. You are supposed to date guys who play sports or play the guitar. You are not supposed to like a guy who yells at fonts."

"I hate frat parties," Daisy countered smoothly. "They smell like stale beer. And sports are too loud."

"I am loud!" Ben practically shouted.

"You are loud about margins," Daisy corrected. "It is entirely different. It shows passion."

Ben let out a massive, frustrated groan. He grabbed the hot coffee she bought him and took a large sip. He burned his tongue, but he didn’t even care.

"This is not happening," Ben told himself. He pointed his finger at her again. "You are going to stop this. I do not have time for romance. I am graduating. I am building a portfolio. I will drag you down with my stress."

"You won’t drag me down," Daisy said softly. The bright, naive smile faded just a little bit, replaced by something much more genuine. "I like your stress, Ben. I like how much you care about this paper. I just want to sit next to you while you do it."

Ben froze. The busy, chaotic noise of the journalism office entirely faded away.

He looked at her warm, honey-colored eyes. Nobody had ever told him they liked his stress. People usually told him to calm down. People usually told him he was annoying.

His heart gave a sudden, hard thump against his ribs.

He immediately hated it. He could not afford a distraction. He could not afford to care about a sweet freshman who bought him expensive red pens.

"No," Ben said firmly. He stood up straight. He crossed his arms over his chest. He was going to shut this down completely before it ruined his focus. "Listen to me, Preston. I am not a nice guy. I am not going to take you on cute dates. I am not going to buy you flowers. You need to drop this right now before you get your feelings hurt."

He waited for her to look sad. He waited for her to apologize and walk away.

Daisy did not walk away.

She reached over the desk. She grabbed one of the fresh red markers, uncapped it, and placed it directly into his hand. Then, she reached out and gently pinched his cheek.

Ben’s eyes went completely wide.

"Okay, Ben," Daisy said cheerfully. She completely ignored his entire angry speech. "Whatever you say. Drink your coffee before it gets cold."

She turned around, her green skirt swishing around her knees, and happily walked back to her desk in the corner.

Ben stood frozen at the layout table. His cheek was burning where she had touched him.

He looked down at the expensive red marker in his hand. He looked at the tin of peppermints. He looked across the room at Daisy, who was already clicking through her photos and quietly humming to herself.

He had tried to push her away. He had used his absolute meanest, strictest voice.

She completely ignored him. She literally treated him like a grumpy puppy.

"I am in terrible trouble," Ben muttered to himself.

He popped a peppermint into his mouth. It tasted completely sweet. He uncapped the new red marker and pressed it to the paper. The ink was flawless. It didn’t bleed at all.

He quickly looked back over at Daisy. She caught him looking and gave him a bright, knowing smile.

Ben violently looked away. He aggressively started editing the basketball article, his heart racing entirely too fast in his chest.

She was stubborn. She was naive. And she was absolutely going to ruin his productivity.