He breaks the kiss and I find that my arms have wound around his neck. Our breaths mingle together in the space between us, and his hazel eyes stare into mine with as much confusion as I feel.
He sets me down easily and keeps a hold on my waist. His teeth dig into his lip and I know he’s warring with himself the same way I am.
“Grace,” he whispers my name and I hear the pain in his voice.
I lean my head against his chest and breathe out. “I know.”
Grace’s mom ends up talking some sense into her dad and he and her brothers end up heading home before they make it even halfway to campus.
It’s too late to change what’s happened between us, though.
I kissed her again, and this time there was no one to witness it so I can’t blame it on our arrangement. This was all me.
I was a dick to her in the arena because of the first kiss—because of what I felt—and then like the fucking idiot I am, I kissed her again and screwed it up even more.
I ruin everything. I have to figure out a way to move past this and I think I have.
It involves adding another item to “Bennett’s Guide to Being Bad”.
An item I don’t like at all.
I hold the door open to the bar and let Grace go in front of me.
I chose a bar away from campus with a crowd that might not recognize us. I keep my baseball cap low over my face to reduce the chances of someone noticing me. Grace chooses a table in the back and I take the seat across from her. A waitress appears at our table for our drink order. I ask for a beer and Grace sticks with her standard water.
“Mind telling me why we’re here?” she asks, looking around. Her nose wrinkles in distaste. I don’t blame her. This place isn’t exactly the nicest. Thankfully, there are a few college-aged guys around which plays perfectly into my plan.
“I thought we could add something to the guide.” I shrug.
She narrows her eyes. “Here? What are you up to?” I give her an innocent look, which she obviously doesn’t buy. “I’d have rather taken you shopping.”
“You can buy me whatever you want, Princess, but I’m not going with you. I don’t shop.”
“I can tell.” She narrows her eyes on my thin long-sleeve shirt.
I shrug. “It’s just not important to me.”
“Again, I can tell.” She laughs and takes her water when the waitress sets it down.
“Can I get you guys anything to eat?”
“Um, I’ll have the cheeseburger,” Grace says.
“Same here.” I haven’t even looked at the menu, but a cheeseburger sounds fantastic.
“That’ll be ready soon.” The waitress smiles and heads off.
“So—” Grace leans forward, the gesture giving me a small glimpse of cleavage when her shirt falls “—tell me why we’re here, Bennett? Don’t beat around the bush.” I calmly lift my beer bottle to my lips and swig it down. “Bennett,” she warns, raising one elegant brow.
“Third on ‘Bennett’s Guide to Being Bad’.” I hold up three fingers. “Kiss a stranger.”
Her mouth parts, and she glares at me like she wishes she could kill me with her gaze alone. Then, her eyes glitter with amusement and she shakes her head while laughing softly. She stares at me head on. “I can do that.”
My fists clench beneath the table. It’s what I want. To see her kiss someone else so I’ll be reminded she’s not mine, but I’m not happy about it, and from her calculating gaze, I guess she’s figured that out.
“You’re a real piece of work, Bennett.” She shakes her head, her hair swishing around her shoulders. “Did you think because you kissed me that I’d fallen head over heels in love with you? You’re more conceited than I thought.”
No, that’s not what I thought, but I did think that my feelings were stronger than they should be. I had to find a way to squash them and I figured seeing her kiss someone else would be the best bet.
Grace stands and picks up her purse. “Game on, asshole.”
I turn around just in time to see her tap a guy at the bar on the shoulder. He turns around and looks at her questioningly. Before he can say anything, she takes his face in her hands and kisses him—and I mean she kisses him. It’s not a fucking peck on the lips like I expected and I’m pretty damn sure there’s tongue involved. I shouldn’t be pissed, I’m not allowed to be, but I am. I really fucking am.
And then Grace lets the guy go and goes down the line to the other three guys sitting at the bar, kissing them all. I hear the sound of glass shattering and realize I’ve knocked my beer off the table.
Grace kisses the last guy, turns to see me watching, and fucking bows with this look on her face like I’ve got you, and then leaves.
I sit for a few more seconds before I finally get moving. I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and throw some bills on the table before running out of the bar after her.
I stop when I see she’s not waiting by the car.
I look to my right down the lit-up street, and she’s not there, but when I look to the left I see her heading that way talking on her phone.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath and run after her.
I catch up to her easily and tug on her arm, grabbing the phone from her hand and ending the call.
“Hey!” she screams, trying to snatch the phone from my hand. “I was calling a cab.”
“And I have a car right over there that I can drive you back to campus in.”
She glares at me, and I swear there’s a fire in her eyes. “Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want you to drive me back?” She laughs humorlessly. “Oh, wait, you think the sun rises and falls because you breathe. Right, I forgot,” she mutters and starts walking again.
“Grace,” I plead.
She whips around. “What?” she yells. “What do you want? Tell me, Bennett, because I’m incredibly confused.” She holds her arms out at her sides. “You’re the one that kissed me, remember? And don’t play dumb, I know that’s why you came up with that stupid kiss a stranger thing. That was a dick move.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m your fake girlfriend, Bennett. I get it, so you don’t have to keep reminding me. Can we move on now?”
My teeth smash together and I scrub my hands down my face. “Jesus Christ, Grace, this isn’t about you, it’s about me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course it is. Everything’s about you, Bennett.”
“You don’t understand,” I tell her.
“Then make me understand!” she yells.
“I don’t understand it myself, so how can I possibly explain it to you?” I counter.
She shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous. Give me my phone back. I’m calling a cab.”
“No,” I say firmly.
“Why?” she snaps.
“Because I care about you, and I’m not letting you stand out here alone to get in a cab with some stranger.”
She snorts. “Oh, so I can’t get in a car with a stranger but I can kiss them? You sure make a lot sense.”
“Fuck,” I curse. “Just get in the car, Grace.”
“No.”
“You leave me no choice then.”
“Wh—”
She starts to speak but I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder.
“Bennett!” She beats my back. “Put me down.”
“I’ll put you down in a minute.”
“Ugh, I hate you.” She slaps my ass like that’ll get me to drop her or something.
“Keep lodging your insults, Princess, they just bounce off of me.”
I unlock my car and open the passenger door, dropping her inside. She immediately tries to push past me and out of the car. I grab her by the shoulder and give a gentle push back.
“Grace,” I say, “I know you’re pissed, but I also know you’re a smart girl and the safest alternative is to let me take you back to the dorm.”
She groans but stops fighting me and sits back in the seat.
I t
ake her silence as her defeat.
“I’m glad you could see things my way.” I start to close the door.
“Watch yourself,” she warns. “I’m this close to slapping you again.” She holds up her thumb and forefinger a tiny bit apart.
I chuckle and shake my head. “Try it, Princess. I’ll be expecting it from now on.”
She harrumphs and crosses her arms over her chest. I close the door and jog around to get in the driver’s side.
She doesn’t speak to me on the drive back to campus, but I didn’t expect her to.
I park as close to her dorm as I can get and let her out. She doesn’t look at me or say goodbye as she gets out.
I watch her walk away and just before she disappears, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
And I am. She doesn’t know how much I wish things were different. That I was different. That I could be the guy she deserves.
Bennett and I sink back into an easy rhythm. We forget that our kisses happened and completely ignore what transpired at the bar. I continue to play the part of the perfect girlfriend and he’s still … Bennett. Thanksgiving came, and I headed home alone despite the fact that my parents requested Bennett join me. I didn’t want to deal with that drama so I didn’t tell Bennett they asked. I told my brothers the real deal between Bennett and me and they promised to help me out with my dad.
Classes are back in session now for a few weeks before Christmas break. In other words, it’s time for finals. Shoot me.
I knock on his door and hear shuffling so I know he’s there. The door opens a moment later and I push myself inside armed with loads of shopping bags.
I drop them on the bed and turn to him. “Try them on,” I demand. “And here’s your credit card.”
He eyes the stack on the bed and then looks at the card. “Fuck, did you catch the thing on fire with how many times you swiped it?”
I sigh. “I know you can afford it. Besides, I got a lot of things on sale. Just because my family is rich doesn’t mean I don’t know how to bargain shop.”
He shakes his head and picks up a bag, pulling out a pair of khaki pants. “I’m going to look like a prep.”
I stick my hands on my hips. “No, you’ll look like a man. You know, like someone that has their shit together.”
He chuckles. “Touché.” He pulls the rest of the items from the bag and holds up a maroon-colored sweater. “This looks like I’m going to play polo.”
I snort. “I’m pretty sure they don’t wear sweaters to play polo.”
He shrugs. “Still …” He lays more items out on the bed. “I like that.” He points at a brown leather jacket.
“Stop looking at the stuff and try it on,” I demand. I’m eager to see Bennett in something other than jeans and a t-shirt. He has a killer body and he’s hot, but he usually dresses like a bum.
“You want me to drop my drawers right here, right now, Princess?”
“Yes,” I say, my impatience growing.
“I’m not wearing underwear,” he says with an impish smile.
I don’t believe him so I call his bluff. “I’ve already seen everything,” I remind him, my mind briefly flashing back to that morning in his apartment.
He chuckles. “True. I forgot you like to look at my cock.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
His smile only grows. “Sit back and enjoy the show, Princess.”
I shake my head and move around him and rummage through the bags. “Try this first.” I thrust a pair of nice denim jeans at him and a button-down shirt.
“Yes, ma’am.” He takes them from me and drapes both across the back of his desk chair. He smirks at me as he grabs the bottom of his shirt and crisscrosses his arms as he lifts the shirt up. He does it slow, purposely teasing me, and my breath catches at the sight of the reddish-blond hair trailing from beneath his belly button and disappearing into his jeans. He chuckles, having heard the small sound I made. I wish I could take it back so he didn’t hear it and know that he affects me. We’ve been doing better since that night at the bar, and I don’t want to ruin this easiness between us. I hate to admit it, but Bennett’s become my friend, and I don’t want to jeopardize that.
He removes his shirt completely and drops it on the floor, and I can’t help it: I stare at his chiseled chest and muscular arms. Bennett is a big guy, but he’s still on the leaner side, and I like that about him. He doesn’t look like one of those gross body builders. He’s just the right amount of muscled.
I slowly raise my eyes to his, and I expect to find amusement there but instead I’m shocked to see lust. I stumble a step back, breaking our eye contact.
“You should … uh … try that on,” I stutter.
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he proceeds to undo his belt and drop his jeans. And surprise, surprise, he is wearing underwear. I knew it.
Bennett grabs the new jeans and puts them on. They fit him so much better than the ones he normally wears, and when he turns with his back to me to put the shirt on I nearly groan at how good his ass looks in them. People are going to be looking at him even more than they usually do.
Bennett buttons the shirt and tucks it into his jeans.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“You look hot,” I tell him honestly.
“I don’t look like I work at a bank?” he asks.
I laugh and shake my head. “Definitely not.”
He walks into his small attached bathroom and looks in the mirror. “Hey, I actually like this,” he calls out. “You’re good at this,” he comments, stepping back out and unbuttoning the shirt.
“Thanks.” I sort through the bags and set aside the next outfit for him to try.
This time, he wears a pair of tan-colored pants and a gray sweater. “I look like a grandpa,” he comments, suppressing a laugh.
“I like it.”
He grins. “This is what turns you on, Wentworth? Men in sweaters?”
I shrug. “No, men with style.”
“Ah—” he nods “—and I have none?”
“I don’t think what you normally wear can be considered a style.” I laugh and point to the next outfit I want him to try. It’s a navy suit with a purple shirt and a gray tie. “You need suits for interviews, right?” I ask him.
He nods. “Yeah, that’s a nice one.”
“It cost a lot,” I admit. “But I figured it was a good investment.”
He sighs and a dark look flashes over his eyes. “If I ever get to play again.”
“You will get to play again,” I tell him.
He gives me a sad look. “We’re days away from December. Matthews is getting exactly what he wants.”
“Whatever happened with the steroids thing?” I ask. He never told me anything more, and I didn’t want to ask because I hate how sad he looks when he talks about his team and asshole coach.
“Coach Harrison had me do a drug test, which of course came back negative. The league had me do one too, also negative—so, thank God Matthews wasn’t able to tamper with it. But Matthews is still keeping me benched. So that’s why I’m still here. Coach Matthews won’t let me even practice with the team, and at least Harrison lets me train with the college team.” Bennett lets out a long-winded sigh.
“Can’t the guys on your team do anything to help you?”
He sighs again. “No one goes against Matthews, ever.”
I frown as he changes into a different pair of pants. “Why is Matthews so great?”
Bennett buttons his pants and zips them, holding out his hand for me to hand him a shirt. I hand him a navy sweater. “He was a hell of a player back in the day. One of the greats. He’s someone a lot of people admire, and when he started coaching, everyone was vying to be on his team.” He shakes his head and he looks pissed. “He’s not what he seems, though. He’s a liar and a cheat.”
“You admired him? Before? Didn’t you?” I question.
Bennett winces. “Yeah, I did,” he admits.
<
br /> “What did he do?”
Bennett shakes his head. “The less you know the better.”
“Did he kill someone?”
Bennett snorts. “Princess, I’m really beginning to worry about your obsession with killing, but no, it’s not that.”
“Then what?” I plead. “You can tell me. It’s not like I’m going to spill the beans to someone.”
Bennett sighs and begins taking off his clothes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Did it have to do with steroids?” I ask.
He freezes in the process of taking the sweater off so I can’t see his face. He lowers his arms again and the shirt falls. “What makes you say that?”
“I’m right, aren’t I?” I grin. “That’s why he made that drug test look like you were doing steroids.”
Bennett’s lips pinch and he pulls out his desk chair, taking a seat. He claps his hands together and looks at me seriously. “You can’t tell anyone, Grace. I mean it.”
“Yes!” I do a little dance. “I was right!”
“Stop it,” Bennett scolds but his tone is light.
I cease my dance and mime zipping my lips. I sit on the edge of his bed and lean toward him. “So,” I begin, “you saw your coach doing steroids? Big deal—he’s the coach, not a player, so I don’t see where that’s an issue.”
Bennett shakes his head and lays his hands on his knees, spreading out his long fingers. “No, Grace, I saw the coach giving a player steroids—not just any player, our Captain.”
I gape at him. “That is a big deal.”
“Exactly.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and leans back in the chair so far that I’m afraid it’s going to topple over. He moves forward and the legs come crashing back down against the linoleum floor. “I got injured shortly after that so I couldn’t play and he wasn’t worried about me. Then, I think he hoped I wouldn’t get well enough to play again, now that I’ve proven him wrong, he’s stuck grasping at any fucking straws he can get his hands on to keep me off the team.”
“Can’t you just switch teams?” I ask.
The Game That Breaks Us Page 14