2. Ben
CHAPTER TWO
ben
THE FUN ONE
People think I don’t take anything seriously. That I treat everything like a joke. But the truth is, when I’m not laughing, I’m overthinking. And when I’m overthinking, I remember every single detail about her.
And about that incredible night we had. The one I never called her after.
Katy Montgomery.
The girl who used to follow me around every summer, looking at me like I hung the moon. Like I could do anything.
The girl I’d spent years talking to on boats, beaches, and pool decks. Who somehow trusted me with pieces of herself she kept hidden from everyone else.
The girl who was always willing to try whatever ridiculous idea I came up with, even when she was nervous.
The girl who grew up, and suddenly I couldn’t look at her without wanting her badly enough to wreck both of us.
And maybe I already did.
We had one night together. The best night of my life. But it was also a stupid, selfish mistake.
I still remember the way she laughed into my neck. The way she trusted me like I was someone steady.
I’m anything but steady. I’m just the fun one. The easy one. The guy people call when they want a good time, not a future.
And Katy deserves a future. Someone as smart as her. She’ll be running boardrooms one day, and I can barely read the articles my agent keeps sending me.
She’s also two years younger than me, and I’m declaring for the NFL draft next year. I could end up anywhere. She deserves the chance to figure out who she is before someone like me turns her whole life into mine.
I picture her five years from now—sharper, stronger, laughing about that guy she liked once before she knew better. And I hate that the thought both wrecks me and strengthens me.
Wanting her is easy.
Being good enough to ask her to change her life for me feels impossible. Not when she still has choices to make. Places to go. People to meet. Her own dreams to chase.
So yeah, I told myself that letting her go was the right thing to do.
Except I still hear the way she said my name. And every day I wake up thinking about the look on her face when she kissed me like she’d already decided something.
I could’ve called her.
But what was I supposed to say? “Hey, remember that night you made me forget how to breathe? Cool if I take over your entire life now?”
So I stayed quiet.
She probably thinks I don’t care. That she was a mistake I shrugged off by morning.
But I stayed away because I cared too much. The way she looked at me that night keeps replaying in my head. Open and certain. She was so trusting that she handed me something fragile without hesitation. Something I didn’t deserve.
And I was a bastard for taking it anyway.
I swallow hard.
I’m spending the summer in Rose Bay at my cousins’ house, like I always do.
I’m at the same house with the same porch, same ocean, same laughter spilling from the kitchen.
But nothing feels the same this time. I’ve only been here for two days, and I already can’t stop thinking about her.
About what will happen when I inevitably run into her.
About what I’d say when I do.
What she’ll say.
How fast she’ll tell me to go to hell.
No one knows what happened between us. Not my cousins. Not my friends. Only my buddy Wyatt does, but he doesn’t count. That dude’s a vault.
I keep telling myself that she’s fine. That she’s moved on. That she’s somewhere out there laughing at what an idiot I am.
I’m supposed to be living the dream. I’m supposed to be enjoying summer at the beach with my family and closest friends—going to bonfire parties, planning boat days, training, and getting calls about the draft.
And even when I try to focus on football or fun, my mind keeps drifting back to her.
Because when I finally see her again, I’ll have to bite my tongue to keep from saying what I should’ve said months ago. That it wasn’t nothing. That I’m sorry I made it seem like it was. That if she asked, I’d still be hers.
Good thing she won’t ask.
I add another plate to the bar because my brain won’t shut the hell up. Normally, working out is all I need to do when I want to turn it off, but recently it hasn’t been as effective.
“Okay,” my cousin Mateo says behind me, “what are we angry at?”
I grin without turning around. “The bar.”
“The bar didn’t do anything to you,” Tyler, the tight end on my college football team, says. “Yet. You need someone to spot you, dude.”
I lift clean and controlled. The kind of rep my strength coach would nod at. Still, my jaw tightens when I rack it.
My other cousin Leo checks the clock. “Didn’t you already do cardio?”
“Yes.”
“And weights.”
“Correct.”
“And now you’re doing… more weights.”
“Excellence,” I say through gritted teeth.
Mateo snorts. “That’s not excellence. That’s you being unhinged.”
I roll my eyes and set the bar down. “Wow. Bold accusation from someone who asked his sister to put star stickers all over his back this morning.”
Mateo glares at me. “Dude. Not cool. It’s for my bacne.”
“Are you seriously calling it bacne?”
“You’re cranky. You’re never cranky,” Leo points out, eyebrow raised. He’s trying hard as fuck to read my mind.
“I’m focused.”
Mateo studies me a second longer. These two know me better than most people. Even though I grew up in Boston, we’ve always been close. We’ve spent every holiday and vacation together. They would come to visit in the winter, and I would get dropped off here for the summer.
Now we even go to the same college, Rose Bay U. They’re on the hockey team, and I’m the starting quarterback.
We’ve shared rooms, shared trouble, shared everything. And I don’t like the way they’re looking at me.
“You never push yourself like this,” Mateo says.
“I’m switching it up.”
“You hate switching it up.”
I shrug. “Growth.”
Leo and Mateo exchange a look.
“Everything’s fine,” I say lightly.
I grab my water and check my phone out of habit.
Nothing.
Which is exactly what I expected.
So why does disappointment still hit me anyway?
I shove the phone back into my bag and turn… and find Wyatt leaning against the rack, arms crossed, like he’s been there the whole time. Calm and observant. Like a giant fucking Yoda.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I take a drink, hoping it’ll save me from whatever conversation he’s planning.
His dark eyes flick over me. He spots the rest timer I’ve ignored twice now.
“You’re being reckless. You never are.”
I scoff. “Didn’t realize this was a wellness check.”
Wyatt tilts his head. “You’re not just blowing off steam.”
“It’s literally steam.” I gesture to myself. “From my pores.”
He doesn’t even crack a small smile. “This was your call,” he says quietly.
I scrub a hand over my face. “I know.”
He studies me for half a second longer, like he’s confirming something to himself. And that’s it. He doesn’t give me a lecture. He just leaves me with the unsettling sense of being clearly seen.
Wyatt exhales through his nose. “You’re miserable. Why don’t you just talk to her?”
“I’m not gonna be the guy who takes something from her she can’t get back,” I snap. Then, quieter, “She deserves a life that’s hers. Not one built around me.”
Wyatt doesn’t argue right away. That’s how I know he’s thinking.
I drag a hand through my hair. “I’m a year from the draft. I could end up anywhere. I’ll be busy with training camps, travel, contracts, games. That life swallows everything around it. And she’s too smart and too young for that kind of thing.”
My throat tightens.
“She’s barely halfway through college, Wy. She should get to figure out who she is before some guy asks her to give everything up.”
“You’re not taking anything,” he says finally. “It’d be her choice.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“Ben,” he says, voice gentler now, “walking away doesn’t protect her. It just tells her she wasn’t worth staying for.”
That hits harder than I’m ready for.
“Ouch,” I mutter. “That’s rich, coming from you. You claim there’s nothing going on with Ella, but you literally travel to other towns to hook up just so she doesn’t find out.”
He tenses. Wyatt’s in this weird almost-relationship with my cousin Ella, and everyone knows it.
“That’s different. I don’t want to disrespect her, but she’s not over her ex yet. And I’m not a fucking monk.”
I nod once, staring at the floor between us. “I just don’t want to ruin her.”
Wyatt shakes his head. “You don’t ruin people by loving them.”
“I’m done talking about this.”
“Fine. If you need me,” he adds casually, already stepping back, “I’m around.”
“Cool,” I huff. “Love a vague threat of emotional availability.”
He smiles once and walks off.
I finish the set. Then another. Then one more I definitely don’t need. When I finally sit, my hands are shaking. But not from the workout.
Wyatt’s words keep replaying in my head. Maybe I did decide for her.
I check my phone again.
Still nothing.
I did the right thing. I know I did.
So why is there a terrible, sinking feeling in my chest like I missed something important?
I wipe down the bench, grab my bag, and head for the door.
Somewhere behind me, someone laughs. Life keeps moving.
And I can’t shake the feeling that it shouldn’t.
Ben
Hey Katy Cat. Are you in Rose Bay for the summer? Can I take you to dinner?