Bennett
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“You know, you look at her the same way I looked at your mom,” my dad muses from beside me.
My gaze is fixated on the breathtaking girl at the opposite end of the table who has stolen my heart.
And my mind, my body, my fucking soul. She’s sitting with my mom and Brie, and they’re laughing about a story that Mom’s telling them.
Something about some drama involving the ladies she plays bunco with.
Merritt’s cheeks are rosy from laughing, her eyes shining with happiness. She looks fucking radiant.
I’ve lost track of how many times in the past few weeks, no months, that she’s stolen my breath.
I turn to look at Dad, who’s swirling the dark amber whiskey around the bottom of his glass, a knowing smile resting on his lips.
“Guess what? It’s been twenty-five years, and I still look at your mom that way.”
I can imagine Merritt and me still being madly in love like my parents are twenty years down the road. I can picture it in my head so vividly, like it’s a snapshot of the future. I can see the life we would build today.
I nod. “She’s the one, Dad. No question. I know that we’ve only been together for a little while… but I don’t know how to explain it. I just know that there’s no one else for me. She’s it.”
A pause hangs between us before his smile widens.
“Well, son, you hold on to her. She’s always going to come first. Over yourself, over your career, over your friends. You put her first, and you’ll be old and gray like me, and she’ll still be by your side, making you a better man.”
I laugh. My dad’s not even fifty yet and talking about being old and gray.
I sure as hell hope I look like him when I’m his age.
I glance back at Merritt, and a sense of contentment washes over me. Being here tonight, with her and my family, feels like I’ve got everything I need at my fingertips. I’m surrounded by the people I love more than anything.
My parents made it to the game tonight, and while I unfortunately sat my ass on the bench for the first two periods, Coach gave me another chance to make up for yesterday and put me in.
I was a steel fucking wall. We won, and it felt like the sweetest victory of my life with the people I love in the stands watching.
My parents wanted to come out to dinner tonight with us all together before they have to head home tomorrow. I’m dead-ass tired, literally dead on my feet since Merritt kept me up most of last night, letting me do deplorable things to her hot little body.
And then I had the game tonight, so I honestly thought about telling them I wanted to go home and crash instead of having dinner.
But… I’m just trying to soak up all of this time I can with my family before they leave.
So, we came to Commander’s Palace, which might be a little cliché New Orleans, but their reputation precedes them.
It’s one of my favorite places to eat in the city.
It’s nice, but it doesn’t feel stuffy. There’s usually a local band playing, the food’s fucking incredible, and tonight is Merritt’s first time here.
I’ve already made a mental note to make a list of all the places around the city where I want to take her and just fucking spoil her every opportunity I get.
There’s a really cool new museum that just opened up on Decatur that I heard about, and I wanna take Elliott there too.
I put the name down in the notes app on my phone so I wouldn’t forget.
“Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah?” he answers.
“I just want to say thank you for taking time off work, for flying down, coming to my game.” I swallow hard, silent for a moment as I try to think of exactly how I want to say what’s been weighing heavily on me.
To say what Merritt has encouraged me to talk to my parents about instead of keeping it all bottled up inside like I always have.
“It means a lot to me that you’re here. More than you probably know. I know that you and Mom are not sold on the hockey thing, and I get it, I do. You’d rather support me in a more stable job. And I know you just want the best for me…”
“Bennett,” my dad says, stopping me, and I lift my gaze back to his, having dropped it to the glass of whiskey in my hands.
“Son, I need you to know that your mom and I support whatever you want to do. Whatever path you choose, we’re right here.
It’s not that we’re not on board with hockey or that we don’t think that you can do it. Son, you can do anything.”
He blows out an exhale and runs a hand over his short beard.
“One day, twenty years from now, when we’re sitting right here and you’ve got kids of your own with that beautiful girl down there, you’ll understand when I say that sometimes even with the best of intentions for your children, you go about it the wrong way.
Sometimes you don’t get it right. You think you’re doing what’s best for them.
You think you’re guiding them in the right direction with your knowledge and wisdom.
But sometimes you’re just stifling them. You’re just holding them back.”
Every one of his words hits me in the chest like a physical blow, unlocking the months and months of things I’ve kept tucked away, not wanting to stress them or burden them with my own shit. With my insecurities.
I swallow down the heavy, thick emotion pooling in the base of my throat.
“I’m sorry that we didn’t recognize that we were hurting you while we were trying to protect you. I’m sorry it took us so long to realize that.” His voice cracks, and fuck, I’m about to cry in a goddamn Michelin-starred restaurant with my dad.
I nod. “It’s okay, Dad.”
“It’s not. Even if you wanted to be a monkey and join the goddamn circus, you should know that your mother and I would be the first people with tickets to see the show.”
A laugh rumbles in my chest, and I shake my head.
“I should’ve talked to you, told you how I felt.
I’m not great at it, but I’m learning…” I glance at Merritt.
“I’m learning that I don’t have to keep it to myself.
That it’s okay to struggle sometimes. I thought by keeping my distance, I was doing us both a favor, and I was wrong. ”
I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong, but that’s never been my issue. Telling someone how I feel, however, is a totally different story.
“Thank you for talking to me. For letting me and your mom make up for our mistakes,” he says as he reaches over and pats my forearm.
“You’ve picked me up a thousand times in my life, Dad. I’m the man I am because of you.”
“Son, you have no idea what that means to me.”
But he’s wrong. I do.
“I cannot believe you gave me a piggyback ride for like ten blocks,” Merritt says as I gingerly set her down onto the couch. I help her out of the chunky combat boots on her feet, careful not to rub the blister that’s already forming.
Hence the reason I just carried her halfway around the city on my back like a fucking orangutan.
I tenderly sweep my thumb over the sensitive spot near her heel, and she winces.
“Maybe next time, we pick some better shoes before deciding that you want to, and I quote, ‘walk around and see the city at night,’ which equates to two miles walking home, baby.”
Her eyes sparkle with wicked amusement.
“Or don’t, and I will continue to give you piggyback rides because what else am I here for?”
“Much better,” she teases, and I bend down, scooping her up over my shoulder, her squeal echoing out around us.
Apparently, Elliott is staying the night at his cousin’s house tonight, and her dad’s working a late shift, which means we are blissfully alone, and I have big plans for her. Which may include that claw-foot tub in her bathroom.
I carry her up the stairs to her room, shoving the door shut behind us with my foot and setting her on the bed so she doesn’t have to walk.
“I feel like a princess right now,” she muses, tossing me that sassy little grin that… fuck, I fucking love.
I pull at the tie around my neck, wrenching it off and tossing it onto her desk.
“I aim to please, my queen.” I shrug out of my suit jacket and then my button-down, shedding my clothes so quickly that Merritt lets out a giggle once I’m left in nothing but a pair of gray boxer briefs.
I climb onto the bed with her. “Why are you still dressed?” I ask.
She laughs. “Uh, because you just got undressed in like five seconds flat?”
I hum, leaning down to kiss her. “Priorities.”
Begrudgingly, she slides off the bed and grabs an old T-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts from her dresser, heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed and leaving me alone in her room.
I stretch out across her bed, which is comically small for my body. My feet hang off the bottom.
When she reappears, a smile moves to my lips.
“My beautiful, stabby queen,” I rasp.
I take her in. That big T-shirt, worn and faded, old sleep shorts, her face freshly washed, her dark hair wavy and loose, hanging down to near her waist.
She’s perfect.
“I’m so glad that you love me like this.”
The second she crawls onto the bed, I sweep her into my arms, wrapping her up tight.
“I love you all the ways, any way there is. Honestly, I’m not picky.
” Her laugh sounds against my chest. “Thank you, baby. For bringing my parents here. For coming to dinner, and for being a part of everything. I hope you know how much it means to me.”
She smiles sweetly up at me, snuggling in closer. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s nothing. I’m so glad that it all worked out and that they made it and were able to be here for you. I really loved meeting your family. They’re amazing.”
I’m so damn glad that she and Mom and Brie hit it off the way that they did because this isn’t temporary to me. She isn’t temporary.
I want her to have a good relationship with my family.
Just the way I want to have a good relationship with hers.
With her dad and Elliott.
“They loved you.”
“You think?”
I nod, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, baby, they loved you. Mom already texted me while you were in the bathroom and told you to accept her friend request on Instagram. Which you absolutely do not have to do.”
“I am, and I will. We agreed that next time they come to town, we’re going to go thrift shopping. I can’t wait.”
I love that she’s excited about spending time with my family.
“I love you, Merritt. So fucking much. I’m going to keep saying it until you’re tired of hearing it, baby.” I press a kiss to the corner of her lips. “I love you.” Another kiss at the edge of her jaw. “I love you.” On her shoulder. “I love you.”
I say it over and over and over until she’s giggling and squirming beneath me when my fingers press into her sides.
“I’ll never get tired of hearing it, Goalie,” she whispers against my mouth.
“And I’ll never get tired of saying it, baby.”