Heartthrob (Bennett Brothers Series)

by Ahren Sanders

  I’m off tonight, tired as hell, but wouldn’t miss this. Having the Super Bowl champions visit has been the highlight of these kids’ lives. My family is here, but more importantly, Claire is here.

  My Claire.

  My instincts are screaming at me to go to her, snatch her away, and make her talk to me.

  Why the fuck she ran last night, I’m still trying to figure out. I want her to move in, establish our lives, build a foundation—and she ran.

  My chest seizes when I watch her take Brinley from Shaw, dipping and shaking until Brinley’s squealing in delight. She’s glanced my way once since arriving and has avoided me ever since.

  Fuck it, this has gone on long enough. I take a step forward and then I feel it.

  The heat, the disappointment, the wrath is coming. I turn to find Bizzy and Grace at my back. Both have their arms crossed and are staring at me angrily.

  “What happened?” Bizzy glares icily.

  “Biz,” I start, but she cuts me off.

  “Don’t ‘Biz’ me. What happened?”

  “She left me.” I point out what they probably know.

  “No one actually leaves a Bennett. They chase them down!”

  “I couldn’t find her.”

  Bizzy’s face morphs into something unrecognizable, and she glances through the room at Claire. “She disappeared?”

  “Yes. I went looking for her, but she didn’t go home.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because it was the middle of the night, and Shaw would have had a conniption. Besides, this doesn’t have anything to do with anyone but the two of us.”

  I immediately regret my choice of words when Bizzy jerks and Grace’s jaw drops. “We’re a group. All of us. Have you forgotten that?” Bizzy asks softly.

  “There are some things that need to remain private, Biz. Whatever is going on will work itself out.”

  “Work itself out?” Grace looks like she may cry. I need to act fast or else Nick will go crazy.

  “Grace—”

  “No, stop. I think we all know how dire this situation is now. You’ve said enough.”

  “I haven’t said anything.”

  “Yes, you have. You let her leave in the middle of the night alone. Now, you’re in the same room and couldn’t be farther apart. That says it all.”

  “She’s working. I’m trying to respect her space.”

  It’s obvious I’ve said the wrong thing when Grace grabs Bizzy’s arm, and they stomp away. I try to follow them only to be intercepted by Nick and Shaw. Both close in and back me into a corner.

  “What the fuck did you do?” Shaw hisses at me.

  “Nothing!” I defend, pushing at both of their shoulders.

  “Nothing my ass, you’ve fucked up.” Nicky bends back to make sure none of the kids heard him.

  “How did you come to that conclusion?”

  “Because you’re over here, but Claire’s over there. She’s the center of the party, and you are standing here like a dud. She’s got tearstains on her cheeks, her smile doesn’t reach her face, and my fucking wife is in shambles about this ‘Mathis and Claire break-up’.” Nick seethes.

  “We didn’t break up,” I try to reassure them, my stomach twisting.

  “You sure?” Nick gets closer in my space, eyeing me with disbelief. “I told you years ago, but you didn’t listen when I said she’s not one to be tamed. I think you are great together. It fucking thrills my wife, like a love-story playing out. But something happened, and that love story doesn’t look good. Fix it.”

  “You’re a dickhead.” I rear up, and Shaw steps between us, his face hard as stone, and I remember kids are a few yards away. “I told her we needed to move in together, and she freaked.”

  Shaw shakes his head then pins me with his stare. “What exactly did you say?”

  I explain the conversation and know I’ve lost the battle when Nick and Shaw both whistle through their teeth.

  “Yikes.” Nick raises an eyebrow at Shaw.

  “He’s fucked,” Shaw responds.

  I stand, irritated beyond belief until I hear her voice and sense her close.

  “NICKY BENNETT! You’re up!” Claire shouts, dragging him away from our pow-wow and not glancing at me.

  An ache jolts in my heart, and I rub my chest to sooth it. When I raise my face, Shaw’s eyeing me with sympathy.

  “Do you love her?” he asks.

  “I do.”

  “Have you told her?”

  I think back to everything we’ve shared. Have I told her? No.

  For years, the words she said to me that night plagued my mind. I did want her— always her. The timing wasn’t right, so I stuck to my decision, working my ass off to get where I am. She did the same. We forged ahead, working side by side, and never let the past affect us. Our lives are so intertwined that, at times, it was torture to be around her so often, but it was the best kind of torture because at least she was close. Claire stuck to her word, never mentioning our history to anyone until last year.

  I think back to the night of Shaw’s wedding, a night of celebration in many ways, but it’s Claire who fuels my memories. Beautiful, carefree, wild—everything that made me fall in love with her. I cracked, giving in to her seduction, and finally had her back in my arms. It felt right, and I knew I was done hiding how I felt.

  Then Nick found Grace and things got crazy. I told myself the timing wasn’t right again.

  She taunted me, pushing my buttons every chance she could. The day she got into a fight at Nick’s game, I was done. She was mine. She never spoke of our time apart, and I didn’t press the issue. Nothing mattered now that it was behind us.

  “Shit, you haven’t told her?” Shaw breaks into my thoughts.

  “She knows. She has to know.”

  “If you believe that, then you are the biggest fucking idiot in the world.”

  “We’re done here.” I try to push past him, but he blocks me.

  “Do you love her so much that it racks you to your soul thinking about a life without her?”

  I try to picture my world without Claire.

  His words hit me hard, and I back into the wall, my chest seizing.

  “I loved her at first sight.”

  “Well, you finally admit it.” Shaw looks pleased with himself.

  “My relationship with Claire is completely different than yours with Bizzy.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that; it’s obvious. I had a ring on Bizzy’s finger in less than six months. Nick was married to Grace in six months. You’re the one taking the slow boat.”

  “Don’t compare our situations. You and Nick had huge issues.”

  “Yeah, we did. Issues or not, we almost lost our wives because of stupidity. The one thing we have in common is we relied on each other for help. You seem to be on an island, and let me tell you something, the way I see it, it’s about to be a lonely island.”

  “We’ll get through this. Stay out of it.”

  “Too fucking late for that. You need us.”

  “I don’t need anything.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you that, when you eloquently stated ‘this double occupancy thing isn’t working out,’ she was able to haul ass so easily? For Christ’s sake, Mathis, she had a packed bag ready to go. That has to tell you something is wrong in the scenario!”

  “You heard Nick, she can’t be tamed.”

  “Tamed? You think having clothes in your closet and belongings in your drawers is tamed? You’re an asshole.”

  “You’re beginning to piss me off.”

  “Good, maybe you need to be pissed off! Because I’d rather take a chance with pissing you off if it gets your head straight. You’re about to lose the best thing in your life. This calls for action and, like it or not, you now have four other people in your business. We love you and Claire, and we’re not going to stand by while you destroy this. She’s worth fighting for.”

  “I don’t have to fight. She
’s mine.”

  He blows out a breath and looks at the ceiling, muttering, “slow, slow, slow boat.”

  “We’re done.” I shove past him with my focus on one thing.

  Finding Claire.

  Shaw’s words replay in my mind. He may be an asshole, but he’s right about one thing—she shouldn’t have been able to get away so easily last night. With the exception of her toothbrush, there are no traces of her in my condo.

  I get to the recreation area and search through the hordes of people, listening for her laughter. Nick catches my eye from across the room and gives a curt nod.

  “She’s gone.” Nurse Evie lays a hand on my shoulder, her eyes loaded with pity.

  “Where’d she go?”

  “I don’t know, she saw you and Shaw and told me she had to go.”

  I spin, taking off to the stairwell and pulling my phone out. The call goes straight to her voicemail.

  “Claire, call me. We aren’t going another night with this. I need to talk to you.” I hang up and run through the main floor of the hospital to the parking garage. Her car is no longer in the spot it was when I arrived.

  I call her over and over, driving by my condo to see if she’s shown up. When I don’t spot her, I go to her apartment and see she’s not there either. I grab her keys out of my glovebox and let myself in, thankful I insisted on having a key to her place.

  I turn on a few lights and drop into a recliner that faces the window. If she pulls up, I’ll see her. After a few minutes, I glance around the apartment. We spend a significant amount of time here, but tonight, I’m seeing things in a new light. Claire’s style is a perfect reflection of her. Bright paintings on the walls, colorful pillows on the sofa, and a hot pink blanket draped on the other chair in the room. There are picture frames all over the room. I scan them and find three that have just the two of us. One at Nick’s wedding, one at my parents’ anniversary party, and the most recent from a few weeks ago at the Super Bowl.

  All of them have us smiling at the camera, my arm slung around her shoulder, and at someone else’s celebration.

  Generic, plain, and amicable are the words that come to mind.

  I turn back to the window, staring into the dark parking lot. After two hours, it’s obvious she’s not coming here. I think about going home in case she shows there, but I know in my gut she’s not.

  Maybe I should call Bizzy, get her and Grace involved in this mess. Instead, I type out a quick text to Claire.

  Baby, I’m at your place. Come home.

  No response.

  I turn off the light and continue watching the parking lot.

  Fifteen months. For fifteen months, Claire has been mine. And all I have to show for it is a set of keys, a toothbrush, and three fucking framed pictures.

  I really am a fucking asshole.

  Chapter 3

  Claire

  There’s a knock at the door, and I ignore it, stirring the sauce on the stove, hoping they’ll go away. Then I hear the sound of a high-pitched giggly squeal.

  Fucking Bizzy.

  I go to look through the peephole and know I’m in trouble. Brinley is front and center, wearing a god-awful bow on top of her head. Her grey-blue eyes are sparkling as she swipes at the door with her little fist.

  I swing it open and reach for my girl, hoping to close her mom out. No such luck. Grace is ready, lunging forward, Bizzy following as she hands off the baby.

  I snuggle Brinley close, carefully remove the bow, and wonder if I can escape before they catch me.

  “Don’t even think about kidnapping my daughter. Shaw would shit a brick and possibly kill you,” Bizzy informs me as she drops her bag and, in two point five seconds, has a pallet on the floor with toys for the baby. “Give her to me.”

  “No, how did you get up here?” I hold Brinley closer as Bizzy approaches.

  “Long story short, I called your parents.”

  “You called my parents?” I screech, and Brinley stills in my arms, her little face scrunching into what is likely to be a wail.

  Bizzy whips her away from me, pops a binkie in her mouth, and lays her on the floor to roll back and forth.

  “Yes! I could hardly remember how to get here, considering last time I was practically comatose and wrapped in grief.”

  “What did you tell them?” My stomach pitches to my feet.

  “I told them the truth, you disappeared and I needed you.”

  “I didn’t disappear. I’ve been answering every message and I’m fine. The last thing I need is my parents worrying about me and Mathis.”

  “Too late, I told them it was going to be handled, and they gave me full access to this condo.”

  “I’m actually pissed about this,” Grace pipes in.

  “Why are you pissed?”

  “Last year, when Nick and I were broken up, you didn’t offer it to me before I left town. You knew how I felt about staying with him.”

  “Come on, Peach Princess, you know Nick had a plan. He wouldn’t let me hide you away for five seconds. Considering you’re incubating another human, I’d think you’d be more appreciative.”

  “There it is.” Grace high-fives Bizzy.

  “There what is?” I’m confused.

  “Your sass proves you’re normal.”

  “Of course, I’m normal!”

  “I had to make sure.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we are intrusive and highly inappropriate at times, and we needed to make sure we were dealing with the real Claire.”

  I stare at them stunned. Grace used my exact phrase from long ago when she was trying to leave Nick and we intervened. They stand shoulder to shoulder, watching me for a reaction, and all I can do is shrug, knowing it’s payback.

  “Fine, I’m going to get a drink.” I turn to the kitchen. “You can’t have anything because you’re up-the-duff, but Bizzy, you want something?”

  “I’ll have what you’re having.” She goes to the sofa, shooting me a look I know well.

  I’m screwed. I knew this was coming, but I was hoping for at least a few more days to prepare. Breaking up with Mathis is hard enough, but now I have to assure my friends that everything will be okay.

  I pour two large glasses of wine, returning to the living room to inquiring eyes.

  “We broke up, it’s okay. Everyone will be fine.” I hand Bizzy one glass and tuck my legs under myself on the couch. “It’s no big deal.”

  “No big deal? You’ve been together for ages. You told us yourself how crazy you were about him. This is a very big deal.”

  “I’m still crazy about him. He’s a great guy, but that doesn’t mean we’re meant to be. “

  “You can quit acting blasé, Claire. I know you’re hurting.”

  “I’m not denying that. It fucking sucks. Even though I’ve never really been through a break-up before, I suspect most people feel this same way.”

  They exchange a look I read instantly. Time to convince them I’ll be fine, so they’ll leave and I can go back to moping.

  “Girls, you don’t need to get involved. This is going to be clean. No dramatics, no awkwardness, and no choosing sides. Mathis and I will continue to work together. We’re all close, and this will not interfere with our friendships.”

  “When I thought I lost Shaw, I’ve never felt that kind of anguish,” Bizzy shares.

  “I know, I was there, and that’s exactly why this isn’t going to be a big thing,” I try to reassure her.

  “When Nick broke things off with me, I didn’t stop crying for days. My heart actually broke.” Grace’s voice is packed with pain.

  “I remember that, too.”

  “Why are you so calm?”

  “Because my situation is different. Nick and Shaw would stop at nothing to prove their love. Mathis and I are different.”

  “Different how?” Bizzy questions.

  “He doesn’t love me like that. I’m not sure he ever will. It finally dawned on me that what we had was ful
l of comfort and familiarity. Our schedules were crazy. He’s in high demand with his job, and I’m a night nurse. We had security in each other.”

  “That sounds awful,” Grace says softly. “We want the story, the whole story. None of us know what happened.”

  “You know enough. We had history, left it alone, and then picked it back up. It didn’t work. That’s the story.” I chug my wine, knowing I gave the lamest explanation in history.

  “Claire, everything. Every detail, every moment, every fucking conversation, I want it all,” Bizzy insists.

  “Why is that important?” I slice my eyes to Brinley, who’s falling asleep on the blanket, and I wish I could join her.

  “Either you tell us, or I go against the best friend rule book and call Shaw. He and Mathis will be here in the blink of an eye.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Then spill.”

  Grace gets up, goes to the kitchen, and I hear her sifting through cabinets, ice clinking, and the sound of the fridge opening. The entire time, Bizzy and I hold our stare-down. She’s unrelenting, and the air between us changes the minute Grace sits, putting a wine chiller in the middle of the table.

  “We love you, Claire, and we respected the past, knowing you two were finally a couple. But now, it’s time we understand,” Grace says softly.

  It’s in my head to tell her she has no fucking clue. She’ll never spend years yearning over a man who can’t love her the way I love Mathis. Bizzy could possibly fathom my emotions because she loved Shaw for ten years before they got together. But I can’t hurt Grace that way. She’s trying to help.

  So, I talk, starting the night I met Mathis, moving from the beginning to two nights ago.

  Two bottles of wine carry into three, maybe four. The only interruptions are Grace getting up to prepare a bottle for Brinley, turn off my stove, and replenish the wine. There are tears, lots of tears, but none are mine.

  By the time I get to Mathis telling me ‘it isn’t working,’ Bizzy is bawling. Grace is holding a sleeping Brinley, and her own tears are streaming.

  “You can understand now, I’m not a Bennett girl.”