Chapter 8
TORI
Istay calm. I don’t flinch. I take Eleanor MacDonald’s pointed jab in stride.
Never let them see you sweat.
“Excuse me for a moment.” I spin and leave the ballroom behind me, hands shaking more the further away I get.
Depositing my empty glass on a side table, I keep walking, heels clicking loudly on the wide wood plank floor. I want to put as much distance between me and Eleanor as I can right now.
Halfway down the hall, I spot an escape route. An empty oceanfront terrace. I shove the door open and slip out into the quiet night.
The air’s chilly, but my face still flames from Eleanor’s comment: After everything that didn’t happen.
Bitch.
Leaning against the railing, I gaze out at the dark ocean and focus on my breath. I try to sync my staccato inhales with the lapping of the white-capped waves against the shore.
In, out. In, out.
“Hey — you okay?” Bennett’s deep voice startles me, breaking my trance.
I give him a tight nod but don’t turn around. I’m not ready to face him quite yet.
“I’m fine.” I force out the words and don’t sound at all convincing.
“Wanna talk about it?” His shoulder brushes against mine as he joins me at the railing. His large hands grip the wood, our fingers almost touching.
Almost.
Warm body heat rolls off him, along with the heady cedar scent of his cologne. He stares out at the Atlantic and stays quiet, giving me space to breathe.
After several minutes, I finally answer. “Eleanor MacDonald was nearly my mother-in-law.”
I don’t know why I just said that.
The words just tumbled out.
Bennett rocks back on his feet and blows out a loud breath, then cuts his eyes at me. “You dodged a bullet, huh?”
I laugh, relaxing for the first time all night.
“Yeah, I really did. She’s as warm as I remember.”
“You dated her son then?”
“For three years.”
“Damn. That’s longer than some marriages.”
“It felt like one.” I swallow, my chest tight talking about Preston. I haven’t talked about him in months.
“On paper, Preston and I were the perfect couple. He’s in finance, the family’s well-connected, our fathers have known each other forever.”
“Romantic…”
I bristle. “Marriages should be built on more than romance. Love isn’t a plan. Not for me. Not anymore.” The wind picks up, whipping my hair around my shoulders. “I’ve seen how romance plays out and — spoiler alert — it ends with lawyers. There’s no such thing as a happy ending.”
“Wow.” Bennett draws out the word, making it almost three syllables. “Jaded much?”
His tone is light. The intensity in his blue eyes isn’t.
“I’ve watched love turn into a weapon. Twice. At first, it’s devotion. Then it’s leverage.” My fingers curl tighter around the railing. “My dad managed to fall for the wrong woman two times. The last one was an epic disaster. Her infidelity forced an entire hockey team to move, if you’ll recall.”
“Yeah, I know.” His mouth tightens, his eyes fixed on the dark ocean. “Not great.”
“That’s the understatement of the year. So can you blame me for not trusting pretty promises? They’re always the first lie.”
His knuckles flex on the railing. “You have a point.”
I know I do — and that’s the part that sucks so much.
“I gave up on hearts and roses and fairytales a long time ago.”
“That’s too bad.” His voice is soft. Like he means it.
I glance over my shoulder, locking eyes with him. “Why do you care? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”
He shrugs, broad shoulders rising. “Because it’s a depressing way to live. Treating every relationship like a merger instead of a desire. Wanting to be with someone.”
I tip my head, studying him. He’s…different than I thought he’d be. More real.
More dangerous.
“Emotions are messy, complicated. I like things to be clean and clear-cut.”
“That’s not real life, though. You can’t simplify feelings down to the lowest common denominator. Not everything’s about stats.”
“Too bad.”
“Sometimes it’s fun to get messy, Sunshine.” Bennett smirks, never taking his eyes off mine as his lips curve into a wicked smile.
My heart slams against my rib cage under his stare, a hot blush creeping up my neck.
He’s throwing me off my carefully controlled game and it’s rattling me more than I’d like to admit.
The wind blows, pushing my hair into my eyes. Bennett lifts his hand, tucking the stray lock behind my ear. I swallow hard, willing myself to stay focused and calm, even with the tequila swimming in my veins.
“We should get back inside. The longer we’re gone, the worse it looks. If Eleanor catches wind of us out here together, she’ll make it a story.”
“And we can’t have that.” He rolls his eyes, a sandy curl flopping over his forehead. “Wouldn’t want to be another headline.”
Bennett pushes off the railing and holds the door for me. I straighten my shoulders, head held high. Eleanor MacDonald isn’t getting the best of me tonight.
Or ever.
The din of music and conversation floats through the air, growing louder the closer we get to the ballroom. Despite the terrace break and the tequila, anxiety still hums through me.
I hesitate at the entrance and Bennett holds out his elbow, wordlessly offering me his arm. Warmth blooms in my chest and I accept, sliding my arm through his. The fabric of his jacket’s cool on my bare skin, his powerful biceps barely contained in the tux.
“Thanks,” I whisper, and he winks.
Together, we enter the crowded ballroom and make our way towards the table. Everyone’s already seated, the only two empty seats between the MacDonalds and a woman I don’t recognize. She must be the local animal charity sponsor.
Bennett pulls out the chair next to her and gestures for me to sit down. I catch his eye, arching my brow slightly, silently asking if he’s sure. He tips his chin, a barely perceptible nod. So I take my seat.
Leaving Bennett next to Eleanor.
Within seconds, a waiter appears with the salad course and we settle in for dinner. Eleanor’s chatting with the Caldwells, long-time team donors. Wine’s poured, bread’s served.
I breathe a little easier.
Big mistake.
“Bennett—” Eleanor’s gaze lands on him and my gut clenches.
This is not good.
“I’m surprised Max had you attend an event like this. After what happened during pre-season.”
Bennett’s jaw ticks, his nostrils flaring. But he shoots Eleanor a broad smile.
“Same. Guess he wanted to make sure my etiquette game stayed as sharp as my stick skills.”
Mr. Rayburn laughs heartily at Bennett’s joke and launches into a recap of Bennett’s career highlights. Honestly, the guy’s a superfan.
And right now, I’m here for it. Eleanor can’t get a word in, effectively shutting down the gossipy conversation.
With Mr. Rayburn handling the Bennett-Eleanor situation, I’m free to chat with the animal charity sponsor. Kya’s quite lovely and by the end of the main course, I have her contact info passed on to Harbor in hopes of setting up a puppy adoption day at one of our home games.
Dessert’s served, a decadent chocolate cake, along with coffee, tea, and more wine. Bennett requests two slices of cake — lucky bastard — and polishes them off in record time.
We’re almost safe. Bennett’s been on his best behavior, much better than expected. Eleanor’s spent most of the night neutralized by the other dinner guests. If we can escape in the next few minutes, we’re golden.
I’m folding up my napkin, ready to leave the table, when Eleanor’s voice stops me.
“Victoria, I assume you’ve heard the good news.”
Her tone’s snarky, so I doubt whatever tea she’s about to spill will be good.
“Concerning?” I glance her way, the corners of her mouth tipping up into a tight smile.
“Preston. I thought for certain you would have seen the announcement. But I don’t suppose you follow society news—” She drops her voice an octave lower and shifts her eyes around the room—"now that you’re down here.” She says ‘down here’ as if I’m serving a life sentence in hell.
Dinner churns in my stomach, my chest tight. I haven’t heard a thing about Preston. But it’s not like I’ve been stalking him.
“Sorry, no. I’ve been busy. With work.” A concept she never understood.
“Of course you have. That always was a sticking point between you two. I remember.”
Hot anger bubbles in my veins, but I take a sip of water and will myself to stay calm. Bennett taps his foot against mine beneath the table and I instantly feel better.
“Preston’s engaged. Finally.” Eleanor locks eyes with me, a smug look of victory on her face.
All the air’s sucked from my lungs and I fold my hands in my lap to stop the tremor. My dress suddenly feels too tight and my cheeks burn.
With forced cheer, I smile at Eleanor and Trent. “Wonderful news. Please pass my congratulations on to him.”
The band switches from dinner music to a quicker, more upbeat song, and Bennett pushes away from the table.
“I love this song. Tori, shall we?” He extends his hand and I gratefully take it, moving onto the dance floor with stilted steps.
Bennett guides us to the farthest corner of the room and I exhale a tiny bit.
He puts one hand on my waist and lifts the hand I’m holding to his shoulder, the movement bringing me back to the moment.
He’s so tall and broad, his body effectively shelters me from Eleanor’s beady stare.
“Thanks for the save,” I murmur, hot embarrassment flooding through me.
“You’re welcome. And I’m not even a goalie.”
The dumb joke makes me giggle and my body uncoils a bit as we move side to side together.
“Consider us even after the beach run.”
“Deal.”
Bennett skillfully moves us around the dance floor and I follow his lead. He’s a good dancer, moving in time with the music and carefully avoiding my feet.
“Where’d you learn to dance?”
“My mom made me and my brothers take classes at the local dance school the summer after fifth grade. Not like ballet or anything. They had a crash course in ballroom dancing for kids and she said it would be good for us to know how. She pitched it as a bonus for hockey, but now I’m wondering…
” He grins down at me and the tightness in my chest disappears.
The bad boy of hockey is twirling me around the dance floor and cracking dumb jokes to make me smile. Not what I expected from him.
Not even close.
Fuck Preston.
“He was a dick, you know.”
Bennett laughs. “Well, his mother’s lovely. Can’t imagine where he gets it from.”
He spins me in a circle, bringing me back in with a flourish. Warmth rolls through me, replacing the despair from Eleanor’s news.
The band transitions to Sinatra’s The Way You Look Tonight and I start to ease away from Bennett and exit the dance floor. But he squeezes my hand and stops me.
“May I have this dance?”
“You don’t have to keep dancing with me.”
“I know.”
He pulls me in closer, locking his gaze on mine.
I never noticed how long his lashes are, framing those deep blue eyes.
His large fingers splay on my back and I’m acutely aware of the heat from his body, his clean scent.
My heart flip-flops in my chest as we sway to the beat, the rest of the room falling away.
This is very dangerous.
When Bennett Steele’s not being his usual cocky asshole self, he is aggressively charming. And even more attractive.
The kind of guy who makes you forget your rules.
The kind of guy who ruins you.
And he doesn’t even have to try.
It’s a very good thing I’m only doing this for my father and the franchise.