MERRITT
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Realistically, I shouldn’t be this nervous about tonight since, you know, it isn’t actually real, but tell that to my anxious brain, which is spinning at ninety to nothing right now.
It’s so stupid.
I realize that it’s stupid, but my palms are still clammy despite how utterly stupid it is. I’m never nervous to go out with guys. Literally, I can’t think of a time where I felt so on edge and jittery, but this is different.
There are… expectations. We’re putting on a performance.
One that needs to be believable, or else this entire thing is for nothing, and at the very least, my asshole, cheating ex deserves to watch me moving on with the last guy he’d want or even expect me to.
A sliver of satisfaction moves through me at the thought of Blake sitting on the bench tonight and the look on his face when he realizes that I’m here.
When he realizes that the first hockey game I’m attending at OU, despite all the games he played on the opposite side of the Hellcats, is to support Bennett.
He’s going to lose it, and I can’t fucking wait.
I watch Bennett make his way into the hallway of the locker room with his hockey bag slung over his shoulder. He scans the crowd of people waiting for his teammates, looking for me.
His hair is still damp and curling at his nape from his pregame shower, something I’ve learned is on his obscenely long list of superstitions, along with now a kiss from me, apparently.
The dark gray suit he’s wearing is fitted to the thick muscles of his arms and thighs like it’s been tailored just to fit his broad body.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him wearing a suit, and I was not at all expecting to be so… attracted to that.
God, why does he have to be as hot as he is annoying?
Why can’t he just be annoying and ugly instead? It would make disliking him so much easier if my traitorous vagina wasn’t fluttering every time he walked into the room.
The moment his gaze connects with mine, a wide, charming smile lights up his face, his bright blue eyes sparkling even from across the way.
It’s honestly impressive how easy it is for him to throw on a smile and perform when people are watching. Also, a bit alarming?
“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough like it’s being dragged through gravel, as he stops in front of me, still wearing that megawatt smile that makes my heart race.
I’m starting to realize that even I’m not completely unsusceptible to Bennett Legros’s charm.
Trust me, I’m trying.
And clearly not doing a great job at it.
“Hi,” I squeak.
Hi?
Jesus, Merritt. Smooth.
So fucking smooth.
Bennett’s smile widens as he slips his arm around my shoulders and slowly drags me into him until I’m flush with the front of him. Instantly, I’m overwhelmed by the deep, thick scent of his bodywash, fresh and inherently masculine.
His other arm curves around my waist and tightens as he dips his head and buries it into the crook of my neck. I can feel his warm breath ghosting along my skin, and I nearly shiver.
No.
This is just for show, and I’m playing along, just as he is.
My body is just the stupid little traitor who reacts against logical thinking.
“Thanks for coming tonight.” The words are murmured against my skin, and truly, I am having a hard time not melting into his arms like a fucking ice cube.
It’s been a while since I had this level of… closeness with someone. Even if I logically know that it’s fake, it’s still kinda nice.
“Yep. No problem.”
Bennett chuckles near my ear, his lips brushing along the shell. “Gonna need you to put your arms around me or something, Mer Bear. You’re practically stiff.”
Realization hits me that my arms are, in fact, dangling awkwardly at my side, and I’m frozen and tense while he’s wrapped around me.
Partly because I’m trying not to be affected by him for real, and also because I’m suddenly hyperaware of the fact that every single person standing near us has their eyes on us. I can actually feel them staring.
There’s a group of girls across from us blatantly whispering about us, not at all bothering to hide it.
“Everyone’s looking,” I hiss.
Bennett pulls back, staring down at me with his endlessly pale blue eyes, and shrugs.
He tilts his head and brings his mouth an inch from mine, murmuring roughly against my lips. “Let them.”
The tips of his fingers press into my waist as he captures my mouth in a hard kiss.
The air around us has shifted, and all of that unwanted attention that I was just worried about fades away completely, and all I can focus on is Bennett’s soft lips slanting over mine.
The way his rough palm slides along the side of my neck, up to my jaw, where he grips my face, both gently and firmly at once, holding me in place.
The tip of his tongue traces the expanse of my lower lip, and an embarrassing whimper spills out of me, my hands flying to the front of his suit, grasping at the lapels, needing to hold on to something to ground me, to keep me from floating away completely.
When his tongue slips through my parted lips, he groans, angling my mouth so he can deepen the kiss.
The way his tongue is stroking mine has goose bumps scattering along my skin and my toes curling in my Vans, and I am pretty certain this kiss has gone well past the point of what’s decent in a public setting. But honestly?
Right now… I don’t even care.
I’ll be annoyed at myself later for enjoying this. For liking the way it feels to kiss him, to have his hard body pressed against me, his rough, calloused hands on my skin.
Later.
Bennett kisses me within an inch of my life, and I’m basically putty in his hands.
It’s shockingly assertive and intense the way he’s holding me, and it takes me by surprise.
About how much I like it.
But also because dominant and commanding is not the vibe I get from him, or at least I didn’t until right now.
He’s always struck me as a funny, never-serious golden retriever type of guy. I’m thinking that maybe I had the wrong assumption about him, and I don’t exactly know what to do with that revelation.
I’m slightly dazed, and my eyes are still squeezed tightly shut when he pulls his mouth away, his ragged breath panting against my lips matching my own.
Holy shit.
That was… a kiss.
The kiss.
Like the kind that girls pop their feet to in rom-coms and then squeal about to their friends the second they get home.
And it came from Bennett Legros.
Dazedly, I peel my eyes open and find him staring down at me. The corner of his lips is tilted in that signature playful grin of his, but his eyes are heavy-lidded, his chest still rapidly rising.
He’s just as affected by the kiss as I am.
Someone passes by and claps Bennett on the shoulder, wishing him good luck on the game tonight, and reality rushes back.
We’re surrounded by people and the center of everyone’s conversation, judging by the less-than-subtle looks we’re getting.
Oh God.
I see Blake out of the corner of my eye, his knuckles turning white around the strap of his hockey bag, his jaw tight as he glares at us for a few seconds longer, and then he storms off into the locker room.
My gaze snaps back to Bennett, and he grins, lowering his lips to my ear and whispering, “I told you to let them stare. Everyone in this arena should know by now that you’re mine. And now he knows that I’m not fucking playing when it comes to my girl.”
His.
Fake or not… I think I may have underestimated Bennett Legros. And that isn’t even my first mistake when it comes to him.