MERRITT
CHAPTER EIGHT
I’m kissing Bennett Legros.
I’ve clearly lost my mind at the hands of a man, and not even the one that I’m currently kissing.
Men and their fucking audacity.
Specifically, right now, my asshole of an ex who has spent the last I don’t know how many months blowing up my phone, begging for me back, telling me that he’d never make the same mistake again.
That he didn’t “mean” to cheat on me.
That he didn’t “plan” for me to walk in on him balls-deep in a girl over the side of his couch.
That he would “always” love me and do whatever it takes to fix things between us.
I guess by that he means coming to my favorite bakery with the girl he cheated on me with and looking me dead in the eyes with zero remorse.
That’s the only reason that I can blame this momentary brain glitch that somehow ended with me yanking Bennett to me and kissing him.
Not because I actually give a single shit about Blake, but more so because I fucking refuse to be embarrassed by this dickface, yet again.
Fuck that, and fuck him.
There are worse things than kissing the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, even if he is annoying.
I know he’s just as surprised as I am because at first, he’s stiff. Like dead-body kinda stiff, and my lips are moving against his in that awkward, nonreciprocal way, making me feel even more stupid and ridiculous for kissing him in the first place.
But then, something shifts, like his head has finally caught up with his mouth, and he’s kissing me back.
His large hand slips around my nape, and he hauls me closer until I’m plastered against him in this tiny booth, and he groans against my mouth.
The fingers tangled in my hair tighten as his tongue traces the expanse of my bottom lip. When my lips part, he pushes it inside and tangles it with mine, devouring me in a way that I can’t quite articulate because my brain is no longer working.
I’m completely lost in this kiss that shouldn’t have happened in the first place, but I can’t seem to force myself to stop.
No matter how much I might regret it later.
It’s already happening, and the only thing I can see, or feel, is Bennett.
His lips move against mine, his tongue stroking mine unhurriedly, like we’ve got all the time in the world, and he plans to savor every second of it.
It feels intentional and exploratory, and every nerve ending on my body comes alive.
It feels completely different somehow than the first time we kissed.
More… attentive. Probably because we’re both sober this time.
A loud throat clearing has me jolting away from Bennett, my eyes fluttering open, only to find him already staring at me with a look of heat, pure hunger burning in his eyes.
It has a shiver dancing down my spine as the cage of butterflies in my stomach bursts open, and all I can feel is the featherlight brush of their wings.
Holy shit, what did I just do?
When they clear their throat… again, I realize that neither of us has bothered to look away from each other to even look at the intruder.
Bennett’s hand slides out of my hair, and he pulls away, but it seems like he’s in no rush.
I turn and come face-to-face with my asshole ex, because of course.
Who, ironically, is the entire reason I just accidentally lost my mind and kissed Bennett, yet he was the furthest thing from my mind as I did.
I might have actually forgotten he was even here.
“Blake,” I say coolly, steeling my jaw as my gaze bounces between him and the girl standing beside him with her hand curled around his.
Truly, I’m not even angry at her for being a willing participant. It’s fucked that she clearly didn’t care that she was fucking someone else’s boyfriend, but she’s probably been gaslit and manipulated by him just as badly as I was.
Or at least that’s what I’m trying to tell myself.
I wonder if she knows her boyfriend has been begging me on his knees like a dog to get back together at the same time he’s dating her.
“Mer, crazy seeing you here. What’s up?” When Blake smirks, that stupid, cocky one that he wears because he truly believes he’s untouchable, I think about launching myself over the table and punching him.
He knows this is my favorite bakery by campus, the one that I come to anytime I need to study or focus outside of the library. I have no doubt that’s exactly why he brought her here.
I’m feeling particularly stabby until I feel Bennett’s arm slip behind my shoulders along the back of the booth, and he drags me further into his side, his thumb ghosting back and forth along my arm in an affirming sweep that has goose bumps erupting beneath my sweatshirt.
“What do you want, Gauthreaux? Can’t you see that my girl and I are trying to enjoy our lunch?”
Wait, what? His girl?
What is happening right now?