BENNETT
CHAPTER NINE
I still have zero fucking idea what’s going on with the asshole standing in front of us glaring at me like he’s going to jump over the table and tackle me to the floor.
Or like why Merritt suddenly just kissed me, but something tells me there’s clearly some history here between them, and I’m fairly sure that’s the reason.
But honestly, the why doesn’t even matter.
Because I just kissed Merritt, and it was the best kiss of my entire life.
Sure, it’s been over six months since I kissed a girl. But somehow, she just erased every girl I’ve ever touched. With less than first base in a public place.
I broke my own rules, and I don’t even give a shit right now because all I can think about is when I can do it again.
Fuck me.
Gauthreaux sneers, shifting on his feet. The girl beside him holds on tighter to his hand and lifts a brow as she looks up at him, then back at us.
There’s no way he’s dumb enough to start shit with me off the ice.
No fucking way.
Well, I mean, maybe he is that dumb.
I’m a lover, not a fighter, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t beat his ass if I have to.
There are some goalies who work in tandems who are iconic legends on the ice.
Terry Sawchuk and Jonny Bower.
Martin Brodeur and Chris Terreri.
I could name ten more off the top of my head.
But Gauthreaux and I? Yeah, there’s zero fucking hope. It’s dog eat dog right now, and I refuse to let him have what I’ve spent my entire life working for.
“Just stopped in for a late lunch and figured I’d come by and say hey.” He looks between the two of us, his gaze bouncing back and forth before landing on her. “It’s been a while, Mer.”
Oh, so he gets to call her nicknames, but I can’t?
I look down at Merritt, ready to ask her what the hell, but she’s like an angry little hellcat right now, all of her muscles taut as she stares over the table at Blake with her eyes narrowed.
I clock how aggressively she’s spinning her ring, which I’m beginning to realize she does when she’s nervous or anxious.
It’s not just about her ADHD; it’s about grounding herself, trying to keep her equilibrium.
What went down between them that has her feeling so out of control?
I’m trying to put together a puzzle that I don’t have all the pieces for, and honestly, it might not even be my business, but I don’t like that she’s feeling defensive toward this fucker.
I already know how much of an asshole he is.
And my head is clearly still a jumbled mess of questions after that kiss.
“It has been, but then again, that’s what happens when you break up, huh?” There’s not an ounce of softness in her voice, instead a hard edge that bites, yet he seems completely undeterred.
He shrugs, his lip pulled into a cocky little smirk that makes me want to punch him.
Even fucking more.
Gauthreaux is her ex?
I’m trying to digest that mindfuck of a bomb she just dropped when he glances down at the girl beside him and says, “Why don’t you grab us a table in the front, and I’ll be there in a sec.”
It’s clear she’s hesitant, looking between him and us, but finally, she nods and lifts on the tips of her toes to kiss him. It’s chaste and quick because he steps away from her, still glancing at Merritt out of the corner of his eye.
It feels gross as shit.
Calculated in a way that I would expect from this dick.
What the hell did Merritt ever see in this guy?
’Cause I can’t actually understand it.
Once the girl is gone, wandering across to the other side of the bakery to a table, Blake looks back at Merritt, stepping closer.
My arm tightens around her shoulders.
“Look, can we talk? You keep ignoring my texts, sweetheart. Can we just talk? Alone?” His gaze cuts to me, and I swear I can see the smug look crossing his face before he drags his eyes back to her. “Please.”
Sweetheart?
Is this DICKFACE in her phone? The one who sent a billion messages that she hadn’t even opened?
It’s asshole-fucking-Gauthreaux?
The sheer coincidence of it all would be funny if I didn’t want to punch him so bad.
“I already told you that I don’t want to talk to you the last time. I’m not sure what else needs to be said. Do you realize how fucked-up it is that you’re literally here with the girl you cheated on me with and are trying to talk to me alone while she’s right over there?”
What the fuck?
The vibes are way the fuck off right now, and it’s extremely clear to me that Merritt doesn’t want to talk to him, so why the fuck isn’t it clear to him?
I don’t even stop to think whether or not she’s going to murder me later for what I’m about to do.
Which the answer to that is likely, but you know what? Fuck it.
She kissed me first.
Therefore, she opened this door, and all I’m doing is stepping right through it. I’m just continuing the charade she started.
Obviously, she’s feeling uncomfortable right now, and it has everything to do with that asshole, that much I know.
I tighten my arm around her and lean down, pressing my lips to the top of her hair.
She doesn’t expect it.
Her whiskey-brown eyes find mine as she tips her head up to look at me, confusion evident in the way her brow pinches, but I shrug, tossing her a grin.
When I turn back to Blake, his jaw is steeled, the muscle flexing as he sneers, narrowing his gaze on me.
Obviously, he doesn’t like what he sees.
Good.
“I think my girl just told you that she doesn’t want to talk to you, so is there a reason you’re still standing here?” I ask, arching a brow.
His gaze whips to Merritt. “Your girl? Yeah fucking right, Legros. Fuck off.”
I chuckle as I lift my shoulder. “Yeah, man. She’s my girlfriend, and I don’t like when people make her unhappy. Isn’t that right, baby?”
“Mhmm,” she says, never taking her eyes off Blake.
He looks like he’s going to flip the table when she agrees. There’s this ugly vein starting to show directly in the center of his forehead, and he’s turning a bit red.
Might have to fight this motherfucker after all.
His girlfriend is a thing of the past as he glares at the two of us, and that in itself is as fucked-up as the fact that he brought her here in front of Merritt.
“Merritt, this is bullshit. You’re not dating this dick. I know better,” Blake spits through clenched teeth.
“Clearly you don’t, since it’s me sitting beside her. How about you fuck off and leave Merritt alone, or we’re going to have an entirely different conversation next time, yeah?”
I’m angling myself toward him because if he reaches for her, I’m going to knock him the fuck out.
But just as he opens his mouth, undoubtedly to do what he does best and talk shit, Amos walks up to the table, his gray brows pulled together tightly. “Is there a problem here, fellas?”
“Nope,” I answer immediately, not giving Dickface a chance to say a fucking word. “He was just going back to his girlfriend. Isn’t that right, Gauthreaux?”
A beat passes, and then another, and I can practically see his anger radiating off him in tiny little steaming billows, but ultimately, he shakes his head. “I’ll see you on the ice, Legros.” He says it like a threat, and I just smirk as he turns, stalking away.
Seconds later, the bell above the door jingles as he wrenches it open, and both he and his girlfriend disappear out of it. He slams it so hard that the window shakes, disappearing from sight.
Guess they’re not having lunch, then?
Amos is barely out of earshot when Merritt shrugs out of my hold and whips toward me, her eyes widened. “Girlfriend, Legros? What the hell?”