BENNETT
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
My palms are sweating as I stand on Merritt’s front steps, waiting for her to answer the door. I drag them down the front of my pants and suck in a breath, trying to quell the storm of nerves thrashing in the pit of my stomach.
I’m anxious as fuck.
It’s the first time I’ve ever met a girl’s dad before.
My girlfriend’s dad.
Fake girlfriend… but he doesn’t know that.
So yeah, I’m slightly freaking the fuck out.
I’m surprised as fuck that she even invited me tonight, but I’m not questioning it, because despite being more nervous than I was when I played my first game in the net at OU, I’m exactly where I want to be.
Being nervous isn’t shit when I get to spend a night with her and her family.
I’m wiping my palms on my pants again when the front door opens, and Merritt stands on the other side, wearing a small smile, her eyebrow lifted.
I quickly shove my hands into the pockets of my sweats and smile. “Hey.”
She laughs quietly, biting her lip. “Hey yourself, Goalie.”
I would’ve brought flowers or something, but I remember how much she hates them, and I have no idea how she’d react if I did bring something, although now I’m second-guessing the decision to show up empty-handed.
Shifting on my feet, I reach up and drag my hand through my hair. “Uh… Thanks for inviting me.”
Merritt’s gaze narrows as she studies me, and then her expression shifts, and a wide smile overtakes her face. She steps out onto the porch and pulls the door shut behind her, stopping directly in front of me.
“Are you nervous, Bennet Legros?
“What?” I scoff, shaking my head. “Of course not. I play in an arena full of thousands of people every week, Mer Bear. I’m not nervous. Why would I be nervous? What’s there to be nervous about? Wh—”
Suddenly, her hand slams over my lips, cutting off my clearly fucking anxious rambling, and she’s grinning as she looks up at me. Her brown eyes are light with amusement, her cheeks flushed pink, and Jesus fucking Christ, I want to kiss her.
I need to kiss her.
My thoughts are running together because they’re bouncing around my head like a fucking ping-pong ball right now, but I want to ignore everything and pull her against me, curve my hands along her waist, and kiss her until she’s breathless.
“You don’t need to be nervous.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mumble behind her hand, but it comes out more like “ez fuh u sy.”
Her head falls back, and a soft, fucking adorable giggle tumbles out of her that has me smiling against her hand.
I reach up, circling her wrist with my fingers, and gently tug it away, but she speaks before I can.
“It’s not a big deal. You’ll love my dad. And it’s just for show, Bennett… You don’t have to be worried.”
I hate the way that my chest feels tight as she says it, like I need the reminder that we’re temporary, that none of it is real. At least to her.
The irony of this isn’t lost on me.
That for the first time in my life, the something I want to not be temporary is the only time where it’s supposed to be.
For the first time, my feelings are more real than anything I’ve ever felt, and to her, it’s all fake.
But I’m not sure she’s ready to hear how it doesn’t feel all that fake to me anymore.
I swallow hard, keeping the smile on my face as I shrug. “You’re not meeting someone’s dad for the first time.”
Merritt laughs. “Okay, but my dad is like the least threatening person I’ve ever met.”
That’s supposed to reassure me, but she clearly doesn’t know how dads are when it comes to their daughters.
He might hate me. He’ll probably hate me.
“What about…” She lifts on her toes and stares up at me through her long, dark lashes. “A kiss? For… good luck. Obviously.”
Fuck me.
“One kiss?” The words come out hoarse and low, like they were dragged through gravel.
“Just one.”
My mouth twitches, the corner of my lip kicking up in a tiny grin, and I nod.
Sliding my arm around her waist, I haul her against me, sighing when she’s pressed against my chest, her fingers twisting in the front of my shirt.
I reach up with my other hand and cup her face, stroking my thumb along her jaw.
She’s right where she should be.
It might be fake to her, but if it was, then it wouldn’t feel this way. It wouldn’t feel like coming home when she’s in my arms. When we’re exchanging one breath after another with the rest of the world drowned out.
I don’t waste another second. Lowering my mouth to hers, I brush my lips gently against hers. The faintest brush that has her tightening her grip on my shirt. I do it again, letting my lips linger for only a few seconds longer, and feel her exhale.
“Are you going to kiss me or what, Legros?”
I grin against her lips, shrugging. “I dunno. I kind of like the delayed grati—”
Merritt slams her lips on mine, swallowing down the words, kissing me instead. Her hands trail up my chest and around to my nape, where her fingers thread into my hair and tighten until I’m groaning.
She tastes like she’s been eating whatever she’s spent all day baking, something with cinnamon and vanilla, and I swear I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything sweeter in my life.
Her tongue pushes past my lips and sweeps over mine, my fingers tightening on her waist, no doubt making little indentations in her pale, creamy skin.
And then… the porch light cuts off above our heads.
A second later, it flicks back on. And then off yet again, and I realize what’s happening.
Oh fuck.
I tear my mouth away and pull back, my eyes wide with panic surging through me.
Merritt, on the other hand, looks thoroughly kissed. Her lips slightly swollen, her eyes heavy-lidded and heated. Not in the least bit worried that her dad’s likely on the other side of the door, flicking the porch light at us because we’re making out on his front steps.
She just laughs.
Laughs.
A sense of full-body, mortifying dread and pure horror is rushing through me, and she’s laughing like it’s nothing.
Her forehead falls to the center of my chest, and she giggles, shaking her head when the light continues to flick on and off, on and off, on and fucking off.
“Okay, Dad, I got it!” she yells, dropping her head back on her shoulders and staring up at the light fixture above us.
“He’s going to kill me.” I squeak.
“No, he’s not,” Merritt murmurs.
“I might!” comes from the other side of the door, and I only barely hold back a groan.
I’m gonna die tonight. Which, actually, might end up being a reprieve. I’m less worried about my imminent death and more so that I need this man to like me because I like his daughter.
So much.
Merritt rolls her eyes and steps back, only to grab my hand and pull me through the front door.
Directly into the line of fire.
“Relax. It’s going to be fiiiiine.”