CHAPTER 37 BENNETT
BENNETT
“This is a safe place,” Bower says as she places drinks in front of us as well as two quiches. I told her I’d grab the food, but she forced me to sit down. I didn’t like it, but I also wasn’t about to argue with her. “Public space, we look like friends sharing a meal.”
She sits across from me as I stare back at her. “I spent fucking years trying to shake the title ‘friend’ when it came to me and you. Don’t want to hear it again.”
She smiles as she picks up her fork. “Ooo, a little sensitive, are we?”
“Yeah, I am. I swear that word haunts me.”
“Should I call you my friend and add a hair tousle just for the hell of it?”
“Do it and see what happens when I spread your legs on this table and go down on you just to prove a different point.”
She chuckles. “My, my, my, dare I say, I like this pissed-off side of you. Turns me on even more. And here I thought public was a safe place where my pussy wouldn’t get destroyed by your monstrous cock.”
“Monstrous cock?” I ask as I slice into my quiche with my fork.
“You know you have one. Don’t go fishing for more compliments.”
“I don’t know, I think it’s pretty average.”
Her quiche falls off her fork as she says, “Bennett, you’re kidding, right?”
Playing with her, I say, “No.”
She leans forward and whispers, “There is nothing average about the freaking redwood between your legs.”
I let out a wallop of a laugh, drawing the attention of a few people, but I ignore them as I say, “Redwood, huh?”
“Uh, yeah, redwood. Can be very intimidating at times. Honestly, when I first saw it, I didn’t think my mouth could open wide enough.”
“Ahh, you unhinged just fine, babe.”
Her eyes narrow from the lightness in my tone. “Just fine?”
I chuckle. “More than fine. Best to ever suck my dick.”
She picks up a piece of her quiche. “Why do I feel like you don’t mean that?”
“How about this…I’ve never come in someone’s mouth before you.”
“Wait, really?” she asks, looking so adorably confused.
“Never.” I shake my head.
“Why not? I sure as hell have come on other guys’ tongues.”
“Don’t fucking like that,” I growl.
“Where else am I supposed to come when they’re down there? Their nose?”
“I prefer to believe you’ve never been with anyone else.”
She laughs. “Okay, keep believing that.” My eyes narrow, not happy, which only makes her laugh more. “Who knew that Bennett Brinkman was so possessive?”
“Only with you,” I say.
“Just the way I like it, but seriously, why haven’t you ever come in anyone else’s mouth? That seems off given the way you like to shove your dick down my throat and lubricate it with your seed.”
“Don’t fucking call it seed.”
She smirks at me. “Answer the question.”
I just shrug, feeling stupid.
“Bennett.” She toes my shin gently. “Tell me.”
“No, you’re going to think I’m some obsessed loser.”
“I already think that, so it’s fine.” My expression falls flat, which makes her cackle. “I’m kidding. Seriously, just tell me. Does it have to do with how much you crushed on me?”
“Yeah,” I answer.
“Okay, I find that hot. You know I thrive off the possession you demand of me. So just tell me.”
I take a bite of my quiche and then wash it down with my drink.
When I set the cup back on the table, I twirl it and stare over at Bower.
After a few seconds, I say, “I never wanted anyone else to taste or feel my cum inside them. I only ever wanted you. I wanted you sucking it down and filling you up. That way, I could truly claim you as mine.”
She sets her fork down and picks up her napkin.
She dabs at her mouth and then lets out a deep breath while staring down at her quiche.
“Good God,” she mutters and then looks up at me.
“Nope, this is not a safe space. I’m so turned on right now I’m about to climb over this table and hump your face. ”
I lean back in my chair and gesture to my lap. “Have at it, babe. Fucking have at it.”
“What do you think?” I ask Gretchen as I show her around the clubhouse.
Bower wasn’t able to come to look at the space because she had to help Adalade get ready for a dinner party she’s hosting, that she just sprang out of nowhere, one that is about to take up a lot of Bower’s time, something I’m concerned about.
The moment she told me, I could see her stress level rise, and it made me nervous.
With the book club, setting up her book truck, and now the book club event, I can see her calculating her time in a day, and I know she’s going to have some late nights.
So I told her I’d walk Gretchen through the clubhouse and report back.
“It’s not great,” Gretchen says, taking in the space.
A bar’s in the middle of the room, making it the center point of the space, which is quite gaudy and gives off more of a sports bar feel rather than an intimate book club space.
The walls are white with pictures of past and present players hanging all around, and the high-tops and chairs fitted in the space have seen better days with their chipped and scratched-up wood that not even a black tablecloth can hide.
Yeah, I can admit it’s not great either. For some reason, I thought it would be better than this.
“Fuck, what are we going to do?” I ask, dragging my hand over my face. “Bower doesn’t have time to look for another venue.”
“What do you mean she doesn’t have time?” Gretchen asks, looking none too pleased. “I thought she said she could handle this.”
“She can,” I say in her defense. “But her boss just sprang a new event on her, so she has a lot going on.” I look around the room, thinking about what the hell I can do. We have a game tonight that if we win, we win the wild card and go to the playoffs, so my mind is elsewhere.
“She said she could handle it.”
I feel my mood shift from attempting to be helpful to downright angry. “And I told you a new project she’s in charge of popped up. She’s handling everything else. Help me the fuck out with the venue. You’re the one pushing this. You’re the one needing to help with public relations.”
“To an extent,” she says, looking just as tired as I feel.
“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do?” I gesture to the space. “Hold the event here? It looks like a shit pit. No one is going to want to come back. There’s nothing intimate and cozy about this at all. And you’re the one who said capitalize while you’re trending. So fucking help out.”
She folds her arms over her chest, staring me down, clearly not affected at all by my outburst. Then again, I’m not surprised.
“I’m doing you a favor by allowing this side project, Bennett.
We don’t have to do it, and we can just up your time at the zoo since your season is almost over.
I was trying to get you involved in another PR project to appease you. ”
“Jesus Christ,” I say. “It seemed like you helped Graydon out a lot. Why not me?”
“Maple did all that work when it came to him, and so did he, on his own time. I just approved. If you can’t handle—”
“We can handle it,” I say, even though a small part of me worries that we can’t.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes, we’ll be fine,” I answer as I start to move away.
“Okay, but do it right. Don’t make me regret approving this. Do not harm the hard work and progress you’ve already made,” she calls out as I move away from her and head to the elevator bank.
Yeah, wouldn’t want to hurt the precious approval from the fans. Honestly, this PR bullshit is exactly that—bullshit—just made-up activities to make a human look good in the eyes of other humans.
Here’s a novel idea: just be a good person and you won’t need good PR to bolster your image.
But, unfortunately, that’s not how the world works.
Therefore, I have to resort to the next best thing.
And trust me when I say I fucking hate this idea, but it’s the only thing I have in my back pocket.
So I pull my phone out and shoot a text to the Gladdy Daddies as I ride the elevator down to the locker room.
Bennett: I need help.
I keep my phone on hand, knowing OC will be the first to respond, and as I get off the elevator, sure enough, he’s answering me. I head to the cafeteria to grab a protein shake as I read.
OC: What do you need? A kidney? I’m sure Graydon can give you one. He’s got to have more than two in that huge body.
Graydon: You’re a moron.
Nolan: Why would he come here, to a group chat, looking for a kidney? That’s some dumbass thinking.
Graydon: You might be growing on me.
OC: Hey! I thought we were soul sisters, Nolan!
Nolan: Not if you’re going to say dumb shit like that.
Graydon: This new addition might work out for me.
Bennett: Help, please!
Nolan: You have to tell us what you need help with, sweetheart.
OC: Yeah, look who’s the dumbass now!
Graydon: Still you.
Bennett: Jesus. I need help finding a venue for the book club meeting.
Long story short, Bower is struggling and I’m trying to help her out.
We thought we could use the clubhouse at the stadium, but it’s all worn out and not looking quaint.
Nor does it give off book club vibes. She doesn’t have time to find something else and I have no clue what the hell I’m doing.
Graydon: And you think we do?
Bennett: I don’t know. Fuck!
OC: Do you want to hold it at my house?
Graydon: You really are a dumbass.
Nolan: Why don’t you do one of those pop-up spaces? They’re all over San Fran. Basically they’re empty venues, small and intimate, and they can be rented out for different events.
Graydon: Shit, you’re right. Maple’s friend, Everly, actually works for the girl whose husband is in charge of them.
OC: That was tough to follow.
Nolan: They’re huge right now. I see them all over social media. You could probably partner up with one.
Graydon: I can send you Everly’s info.
Bennett: That would be amazing, thank you.
OC: Remember when Graydon didn’t want Nolan in the group? Look at how helpful he is. I knew all along he was a great addition.
Graydon: Shut the fuck up, man.
Nolan: Have to go with him on this one. Shut the fuck up.
Bennett: Pointing out people’s mistakes gets you nowhere.