CHAPTER 11 BENNETT
BENNETT
This was the worst fucking idea I’ve ever had in my entire goddamn existence.
Setting Bower up with someone else, stupid idea.
Setting her up with fucking Cougar Vajeen? It’s a crime.
Jail.
I should be taken to fucking jail right now.
Pacing my living room, I tug on my hair for the hundredth time as I try not to think of every minute they spend together.
Or how she’s probably touching him while she laughs.
Or how he’s probably checking her out…in the dress I zipped for her!
Or how…fuck, how they’ll probably kiss.
He’ll kiss her before I will.
Hell, I’ll probably never kiss her now. I’ll just always wonder what it’s like to be admired by her, but never actually feel it.
Because that’s my life, right? Lonely, pathetic, with no prospect of securing a date with the girl I can’t stop thinking about.
That I haven’t stopped thinking about for years.
“Fuck,” I yell and then flop down on the couch, where my phone is.
I check the time and curse when I see that it’s past ten.
Are they still out?
Did she go home with him?
Is he unzipping the dress that I zipped up for her?
Should I go down to the bar and offer to drive her home even though she’s with a date?
Would that be weird?
Of course it would be weird, jackass. She’s with another man.
But is he the type to drive her home?
I hope not, if he’s been drinking…
Would he do that?
Fuck, I have no idea and now the questions are starting to consume me, eat away at me, and before I can stop myself, I send a text to the one person I probably shouldn’t text, but I can’t help myself.
Bennett: Does Cougar tend to drink and drive?
I set the phone down and rock in my seat, burying my head in my hands, agonizing over the thought of them together.
If I have learned one thing from this entire experience, it’s don’t take fucking Nolan’s advice, because this is where it sends me, straight into a fucking agonizing torment.
My phone beeps with a response and I half wish for it to be Bower asking for a ride home or better yet, an escape from the date because it’s going so badly.
But when I see it’s not her, all hope is lost.
Graydon: No.
Fuck. Why did I think that he’d be the best person to help me with this?
The man barely talks. Hell, if this was OC, he probably wouldn’t have set her up in the first place because he’d have been able to read between the lines and come up with another idea to get Bower to like me.
But if he did set her up with someone else, there’s no doubt in my mind that OC would be sitting on the couch, right next to me, holding my hand and making sure that I’d be okay.
Graydon…not so much.
And yet, I can’t help myself in texting him back.
Bennett: Are you sure? I dropped my friend off at a pub and just want to make sure she’s safe.
Graydon: Then why aren’t you texting her instead of me?
Great point.
Excellent, actually.
The man is a smart one.
Too bad for him that I’m full of desperation.
Bennett: I don’t want to bother her.
Graydon: If it’s about drunk driving, I’m sure she wouldn’t be bothered, but grateful instead.
Another great point. He’s being logical, and I’m purely emotional.
Bennett: Agreed, agreed, but I just want to feel you out and see what you thought of the situation. Does he get drunk often? And when he’s drunk, is he persuasive? Does he get his date drunk as well? Does he take advantage? What are his thoughts on consent?
I press send before I can stop myself and then start pacing the living room again.
I know over the last few weeks I’ve gained a lot of ground with Graydon. He’s come to respect me, appreciate me, maybe even consider me a friend, but I know from that text alone, he’ll probably block my number.
But I had to take a chance, I had to figure it out.
After a few seconds of him not responding and me on the brink of texting him again, my phone buzzes in my hand and I see that he’s calling.
Graydon.
Calling me.
I know this doesn’t happen often and that he’s not much of a talker, so I steady myself and try to remain calm as I answer.
“Hey, man, what’s going on?”
“What’s going on is that you’re bothering me and I don’t want you bothering me, so fucking stop it,” he growls.
Yup, saw that coming.
And yet, I can’t stop myself.
“Sorry about that, just concerned about my friend, you know? I have a sense of responsibility where she’s concerned. I need to make sure she’s safe and taken care of.”
“So why did you send her on the date?”
Because I’m a moron!
“She really wants to meet new people and I trust you. I figured you would have good judgment and that you’d set her up with someone respectful. Is, uh, is Cougar respectful?” Possibly practicing the art of celibacy at the moment?
“I mean…sure,” Graydon says, not sounding sure at all.
That’s not reassuring.
“Sure? That, uh…that doesn’t sound like you mean it, and this is my friend, Graydon. I need to make sure that you didn’t do me dirty. Did you do me dirty?”
“Where the fuck is this all coming from? You asked for a number of a complete douche. I gave you a number and then I walked away. Why the fuck are you bothering me on a Friday night?”
“Well, to be fair, you’re the one who called me.”
“Yeah, and you’re the one texting, looking for a background check on a man I barely know.”
“Ah-ha!” I say with a point of my finger. “So you admit you barely know him.”
“I never admitted otherwise,” he counters.
True, very true…
“Listen, you’re annoying the shit out of me.
I want nothing to do with this. Cougar isn’t dumb.
He’s not going to do something like drink and drive.
I know he fucks a lot, but nothing makes me suspect that he does it without consent.
So, if your friend ends up in his bed, that’s of her own volition. Got it?”
I swallow hard, my skin prickling with nerves. “Got it.”
“Good.” And then he hangs up, leaving me feeling incredibly unwell.
So unwell that I walk over to the kitchen, open up the freezer door, and plop my head in it to cool my burning skin.
And as I rest there, the bag of frozen peas practically mocking me, I wonder if I should just…give up. If all of this worrying is for nothing, because let’s be honest, would I ever really have a chance with Bower? Will she ever look at me the way that I look at her?
From how she called me a great friend in my truck before she went off to her date, I’m going to guess my chances are about as thin as the plastic holding this bag of peas together.
Buzz. Buzz.
A text!
I lift my head from the freezer, my excitement climbing.
It has to be her. She needs to be rescued.
And here I was, about to freeze my head into an ice cube.
Foolish behavior!
I slam the freezer door shut, grab my phone, and see that it’s a text from Gretchen.
Ugh. That was fucking cruel.
Gretchen: In the neighborhood, want to talk now?
It’s past ten, what the hell is she doing?
What do I care, though? That will keep me busy.
Bennett: Sure, meet you at Brewers? In five?
Gretchen: See you there.
I slip on a hat and a shirt that isn’t drenched in nervous sweat and then book it down to the twenty-four-hour coffee shop that is right around the corner from me.
When I arrive, she’s already sitting at a table with a cup of coffee in front of her. I offer her a nod and then fill a complimentary cup of water before sitting down across from her.
Gretchen is…tough.
She keeps us in line when it comes to this PR nightmare and doesn’t let us get away with anything. We even tried to overthrow her at the beginning, tell her that we weren’t into this whole zoo thing, but that did us no good. She put us in our place pretty quickly.
“So…you’re unhappy.”
About a lot of things, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Yeah, I just, I fail to see how working at the zoo is helping me. I know there will be video released of everything we’ve done, but it’s quite time-consuming for me, and I don’t see much return.
Maybe there’s something else I can participate in that would be a better fit, kind of like how Graydon is doing the social media thing with Maple. ”
She nods. “Yeah, I’ve heard from the Bombers front office that they haven’t seen much pickup from what you’ve been doing, and I’ve been thinking about how I could remedy that.”
“Really?” I ask, feeling hope. “Maybe you can go with someone else on the team? The whole grumpy thing seems to work, so maybe you can ask about Asher Peppers, take the Graydon route.”
She shakes her head. “No, he was on the team during the scandal. We’re trying to uplift a new line of faces and they’re set on you. You have the most appeal to the fans right now, especially the women.” She brings her drink to her mouth. “How do you feel about a PR relationship?”
“Not happening,” I say, knowing for a fact that’s not something I could pull off.
“Shame, oh…what about a dating show?”
“No,” I deadpan.
“You don’t have to actually date the person.”
“No, nothing to do with my love life.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No,” I say wistfully as my mind goes to Bower.
“What’s that?” she asks, motioning to my face.
“What’s what?” I ask.
“That look. When I asked if you have a girlfriend, you said no, but there was this starry-eyed glaze in your expression.”
I shake my head. “No, there wasn’t.”
“There most definitely was. Are you lying to me? Do you have a girlfriend? Because this is information we need to know. We have to know every aspect of your life, especially if you’re romantically involved with someone because if there is a scandal or—”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“But are you seeing someone?”
“No,” I answer, which makes her study me longer than I want her to.
“You don’t have a girlfriend, nor are you seeing someone, but you’re practically giddy at the thought of it…”
“I’m not giddy—”
“You like someone.” She points at me and then nods, agreeing with herself. “You like someone and wish they were with you, am I right? I have to be right. Am I?”
“Noooo,” I drag out, not even convincing myself.
“Liar. Who is it?”
“No one.”