BENNETT #2
I watch as he lifts his hand and tries to touch her face, only for Merritt to quickly step back, swatting his hand away.
Good girl.
He has no fucking business trying to touch her. I know she can take care of herself—she’s perfectly capable—but I can’t help the surge of possessiveness crawling up my throat that’s so strong I might fucking choke on it.
I pull in a deep, uneven breath and force myself to walk calmly and not act like I want to rip off that hand he just tried to touch her with and shove it up his ass.
“Here you go, baby,” I murmur as I brush past him and stop in front of Merritt, handing her the drink.
I hear the annoyed huff behind me, but I ignore him entirely. Fuck him.
The only thing I care about right this very second is making sure that Merritt’s good.
I lift a brow in question, and she gives me a small smile. “Thanks, handsome.” Her brow pinches together when she glances down at my empty hands. “Are you not drinking? It’s not a game night. ”
“No, I had one earlier, but only one. I just…” Trailing off, I lower my voice. “I’d rather stay sober after… last time.”
Her deep brown eyes bounce between mine for a beat, her lips parting as if she’s going to say something, but she doesn’t speak. Instead, she lifts up on the tips of her toes and presses her mouth to mine. A soft, sweet brush of her lips, gone too soon when she pulls back to look up at me.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that, but thank you, Bennett.”
I smile. “Nothing to thank me for.”
“Merritt…” Gauthreaux’s voice comes from behind me, and for a second, I forgot he was even fucking there.
When I turn and see that stupid fucking smirk on his face, I tense, my jaw clenching and my muscles pulling taut.
“We were talking, buddy,” he says, lifting a brow. “How about you not interrupt again?”
Something in my chest threatens to pop, probably the thread of self-control that I’m desperately clinging to.
What I would do for this fucker to just disappear. To get the fuck out of my life, Merritt’s life, off my goddamn team.
Every time I’m around him, every time he opens his mouth, I hate him even more.
Everything about this guy triggers me.
The chatter around us drowns out as I step forward, and then again until we’re nearly toe to toe.
His nostrils flare, and for the first time tonight, I see that mask of his slipping, showing the rage beneath it.
“You forget whose house you’re in?” I ask him.
He chuckles darkly, a dry sound that makes me want to punch the fuck out of him. Like he’s mocking me somehow. Shaking his head, he grins. “Nah, of course not. You’re the guy who couldn’t keep his net. How could I forget when I’m the one taking your place?”
This motherfucker.
My hands curl tightly into fists at my side, and my jaw works so hard that it feels like my teeth might crack.
“Shut the fuck up, Gauthreaux.”
This has his grin widening, and he shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe it’s time that you admit it to yourself. You’re not the big dog anymore, Legros.”
I step forward, and my chest hits his, knocking him back a step. All he does is fucking laugh, and that has my fury boiling over into something dangerous.
Out of control.
Nothing like the guy I am.
It’s not in my nature to be this volatile, to be this easily triggered. Especially knowing that he’s goading me. Knowing that this is why he’s talking shit right now.
To get this reaction out of me.
I’m unintentionally giving him exactly what he wants.
Attention. Validation.
Fuck, I’m playing right into his hand, and I know it, but I can’t seem to stop myself. Can’t seem to get a hold of my anger that’s been simmering beneath the surface for months, ready to boil over.
I feel Merritt step beside me, and it pulls Gauthreaux’s attention to her. His beady gaze narrows as it moves to her, and I can see the shift where he decides to change his tune.
“C’mon, Mer, you’ve made your point. I know I fucked up, and I swear to you I will make it right, but this guy’s a fucking loser, and you’re better than this,” he says, his tone placating, softening his eyes on Merritt.
“You wouldn’t even believe the shit I’ve heard about this guy since starting here.
The number of women he’s collected like trophies. He’s fucking beneath you.”
I want to rip his head off, but I force myself to look down at her, watching her throat bob with a swallow and her stance turn rigid.
Gauthreaux is feeding both of our insecurities, and he’s fucking foul for going this low.
For a second though, I wonder if maybe Merritt doesn’t even realize that’s what he’s doing. She says nothing, just stares back at him with a look in her endless brown eyes that I can’t read.
He takes that as a sign to continue, to press even harder on cuts that are still tender.
“Mer, we spent a year together,” he murmurs as he takes a step toward her.
“An entire year of our lives together, and it’s my fault, I know it is.
Just like I know you, and I know that this dumbass isn’t worth a second of your time.
If you do nothing else, just ask around about him.
See what you’re really getting yourself into.
A guy who won’t ever be faithful to you. ”
She scoffs. “Oh, just like you were, right?”
He reaches for her, and this time, I shut it the fuck down. “Do not fucking touch her.”
A low laugh vibrates out of him, and his brow arches in challenge. “Yeah? What you gonna do about it, big guy? Hit me? Give Coach yet another reason to put you on the bench?”
“You can run your mouth all you want, Gauthreaux, until you’re blue in the fucking face, but what you’re not gonna do is put your fucking hands on my girl.” We’re back chest to chest, and the party has gone quieter. People have started to realize that something’s up.
Merritt’s hand finds mine, and she intertwines our fingers, pulling gently. “Bennett, let’s go.”
It would only take one person recording an altercation between us and it circulating on campus to get back to Coach.
I still don’t move, staring Gauthreaux down like I might be willing to risk it all to shut him the fuck up once and for all.
“C’mon,” Merritt prods, tugging harder. “It’s not worth it.”
“Merr—” Gauthreaux starts, but she shakes her head.
“Stop. Just fucking stop, Blake. Enough.”
Part of me wants to stay, wants to finish the shit he’s started tonight, but when Merritt starts dragging me out of the living room, I follow.