by Toni Aleo
And Angie’s.
And she could never let that happen.
But in his tub, Benji’s arms around her, nothing could touch them.
No. She was good, real good.
“All I need is a glass of wine, maybe some chocolate-covered strawberries,” she said with a giggle, and he chuckled against the back of her head. “Do you have any wine? We should pop open a bottle, drink it like queens and kings.”
He chuckled against her ear, kissing the spot below it. “No, I don’t.”
“That’s a travesty. We’ll need to get some for next time.”
He didn’t say anything right away, but then he cleared his throat. “About that…”
She opened her eyes, leaning over so she could look up at him. “What? No next time?”
He scoffed. “Oh, Lucy, if I had my way, this water would stay hot and we wouldn’t leave. But it’s not that.”
“Then what?”
He paused and sucked in a deep breath before meeting her gaze. He was unsure, something was holding him back, and that made her concerned.
But nothing prepared her for what he said next.
“I’m an alcoholic.”
Whoa. What?
Her face must have given her away before he looked away. “I’ve been sober for twelve years, though.”
“Oh. Okay, wow, yeah. No, it’s fine. I just… I’m gonna shut up,” she said quickly and he smiled. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“No, it’s cool,” he said simply, nuzzling his nose against her neck, apparently done talking about it.
But she was not.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, kissing her neck, and she almost let him move on.
Almost.
“Okay, Mr. Change the Subject, I kinda wanna go back a bit,” she said, moving so she could see his face.
Repositioning her legs over his so she was almost straddling him, he cleared his throat. “Using my words against me.”
“Yeah,” she said, eyeing him. “Like, I need more there. Not that it changes anything, but I kind of need to know.”
He looked down at the water, taking a deep breath. “No, I know.”
He wouldn’t look at her, and his shoulders fell. Shit, she was messing this all up. “I’m not looking at you differently, I promise.” He gave her a look, and she stressed, “I’m not!”
“You are.”
“No! It’s just crazy. You don’t seem the type to do that.”
“I was a different person then,” he said simply and she shook her head.
“I’m sorry I can’t wrap my head around it. You seem like such a stand-up guy.”
“But I wasn’t back in the day, I was shit,” he said, his voice breaking a bit. She reached for him, holding his hands.
“Whoa, I don’t want to upset you. You don’t owe me anything; you don’t have to tell me anything that is uncomfortable,” she said quickly. She was surprised how upset she got for him. She didn’t want to hurt him, she didn’t want him to relieve a shitty past, she didn’t like the look on his face. The look of pure defeat and regret. She couldn’t handle that. No, this wasn’t her Benji.
Her Benji.
Okay. She’d come back to that.
Looking at their hands, he sucked in a deep breath. “No, it’s a part of who I am now. I want you to know because you worry about me not liking part of your past. Well, there is a damn good chance you won’t like mine.”
Her heart sank as she watched him—the way his jaw was taut, the way he wouldn’t look her in the eye. This wasn’t how he was. Yeah, it had only been a week with him, but Benji was all about eye contact.
Shit, she was scared. “Okay.”
Moving his tongue along his lip, he swallowed hard. “I got swept up in the rookie life. I was with a young team, and they liked to party. I had grown up drinking with my family. Started young, really.” As he took another bracing breath in, his nerves vibrated Lucy’s soul and made her anxious.
Her nerves getting the better of her, she started talking. “Everyone drank early, at least, my family did. My mom and dad, as soon as each of us turned sixteen, made us drink with them. They’d get us trashed to where we would wake up, sick as dogs. It worked on me as a deterrent—I wasn’t much of a drinker. But it had the reverse effect on the boys, and they can still drink. I’m rambling. Why am I nervous? Okay, I’m shutting up.”
She snapped her mouth closed, and he smiled. Leaning to her, he pressed his lips to hers. “I really like when you ramble.”
She smiled sheepishly. “You’re making me nervous ’cause you’re so nervous.”
He shrugged. “Sorry, I really don’t like talking about it, but I want you to know.” She didn’t know what to say, so she just kept locked in his gaze as he cleared his throat. “But yeah, I came from a drinking family, lots of functioning alcoholics. Then I was drafted early, hit the NHL quick, and everything went downhill. I was a nasty drunk and I hurt a lot of people, almost lost my career, I, ugh—” He paused, letting out a long breath and shaking his head. Her heart was breaking.
Wow, she really cared for this guy.
Because one look in his grief-stricken gaze and she wanted to fix it. She wanted to make everything better. She wanted the grin, the teasing—she wanted her Benji back.
Not this nervous ball of regret.
“It’s okay, Benji, really. You aren’t that person anymore. I seriously didn’t ever think you could have done anything like that. You’re so upstanding, so great. Really,” she said, cupping his face and flashing him a small smile. “You beat it. You’re clean. How many people can actually say they did that? Not many, but you can, and I’m so proud of you.” He leaned into her hand and stared into her eyes, his eyes searching hers as he took in gulps of air. “God, smile, Benji. You’re killing me.”
His lips curved, but it didn’t meet his eyes. It was almost like he was struggling with something. Like he was holding something back, and she didn’t know why. It was crazy how easy it had become to read him in such a short amount of time. But she could, and he was killing her.
As he reached for her hand, lacing her fingers with his, he brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. When he looked back into her eyes, something shifted between them as her heart ached for him. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she knew she cared about him enough to want to fix him.
To make him smile.
How did he do this to her? How did he become so important so quickly? Maybe she should take a step back. Maybe this was moving too fast. But it felt right.
So fucking right.
“I never thought I could ever feel like this again. Happy.” His voice was so stricken that her eyes welled up with tears.
“Me either. But please stop looking like I’m about to bust a move out of here.”
He scoffed. “You’re not?”
“No!” she screeched, her lips curving. “You’re an alcoholic—you admit that and you didn’t hide it. You were honest and I appreciate that. I’m so proud of you. Why would I run?” Looking away, he slowly shook his head and her heart sank. “What is it, Benji?”
“Maybe it’s too early to go so deep?” he asked as he glanced up at her.
She sucked in a breath. “I mean, we haven’t gone on our first official date, but we’ve bumped uglies a few times and—”
“Bumped uglies?”
She made a face, unsure why she phrased it like that. Damn those younger brothers of hers and their crass language. “I’m freaking out here. But I will listen if you want to talk. If you don’t, then I’ll try to let it go. I’m not guaranteeing I can since I’m a nosy thing, but I’ll try.”
His lips curved as he took her by the back of her head, bringing her face to his, kissing her forehead. “You’re so adorable, you know?”
“I think my brothers say I’m insane.”
“That too,” he agreed, kissing her once more, taking her hand in his as she smiled. “I want to tell you, I do. But mayb
e right now isn’t the time.”
“Tell me what?”
“Why I cleaned up,” he said simply as she pulled back, meeting his eyes.
Holding his gaze, she nodded. “Does it have to do with this?”
She pointed to his chest and he looked down, nodding slowly. “Yeah.”
Chewing on her lip, she wanted to know. God, she wanted to know, but…
“Why wouldn’t now be the right time?”
He shook his head. “’Cause we’ve only been talking a week, and I don’t want to ruin our good time. The good thing that is coming from this.”
She understood what he was saying, and he was right. They were having a great night, lots of sharing and fun, but she needed to know.
Looking up, she met his remorseful gaze, and despite the heavy feeling in her gut, she whispered, “Tell me.”
She just hoped her gut wasn’t right—that this wouldn’t end them.
Benji wasn’t sure how this was going to go.
She was breathing deeply, apprehension radiating from her, and she almost looked like she was seeing him in a different light already. Which was not what he wanted, but maybe that’s how it was going to be. Either way, he had to be honest.
“Benji?” she asked, probably because he was trying to choose his words and was just sitting there, the only sounds their breaths and the jets of the tub. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet. They were supposed to have fun, tub sex, cuddle, and be together, but of course, he had to be truthful. He couldn’t hide what he did; she meant more to him than for her to find out some shitty way later.
When she took his hand, she squeezed it. “Don’t mistake my freaking out as anything more than that. I’m freaking out because I’m worried about you. I’m worried that you’re scared this could end what we have.”
“You’re right,” he admitted, looking up at her. “I tell people and they run the other way.”
Her eyes widened but she didn’t let his hand go. “Jesus, what the hell happened?”
Taking in a long breath, he looked at their hands as one and prayed to the God he loved and believed in that she wouldn’t run. She couldn’t. He couldn’t handle it. She meant way too much to him, and it would be almost cruel to take her away now. But then, maybe that was his punishment—wave the woman, the life he wanted in front of his face, and then snatch it out of his grip.
God, he was so fucking scared.
“When I was a kid, I met Ava Donaldson,” he said, his lips turning up at her name. “She was this gorgeous blonde who stole my breath and made me feel things I had never felt before. We got pregnant as teenagers, and I married her two days after we graduated high school. We were both newly eighteen, with a baby, but I loved her more than anything in this world. And I loved our baby, Leary,” he said softly, and Lucy’s eyes widened as she watched him.
“Wait, you’re married?”
He shook his head. “No, not anymore.”
Her face was full of misunderstanding as she held his gaze. “You’ve never spoken of them.”
“Yeah, because I’m ashamed.”
Her brows rose. “Oh.”
“Yeah, so…” he said, clearing the emotion from his throat. “I got drafted quick, promised her I would give her the life she wanted, and I did, moneywise, but I wasn’t there for her. I was running with my boys, drinking, having fun. I never cheated on her—that’s one thing I can be proud of, I never ever broke her heart that way—but I did break her heart with the drinking.”
“Oh, Benji,” she whispered, holding his hands with both of hers.
“She threatened to leave me so many times. I somehow convinced her not to, throwing out that Leary didn’t need to grow up without a father, in a broken home. She came from one and I used that to keep her. I wish I had let her go, though. Maybe things would have ended differently,” he said, the guilt eating him alive. He had never admitted that part to anyone. Not even to the group, but for some reason, he told Lucy. Because it was true. Man, how he wished he would have let Ava leave him. “I needed her. I loved her, and I promised and promised that I would change. I never did, though.”
Clearing his throat, he looked up, seeing that she was watching him, uneasiness all over her sweet face. It killed him; he didn’t want her to worry about him. To feel sorry for him. He did this all himself. He broke Ava’s heart. It was his fault, his burden, not Lucy’s. He shouldn’t have said anything, but when she lifted their hands out of the water, kissing his knuckles, her eyes urged him on and he couldn’t hold back.
He owed it to Ava and to Leary, to be honest.
“What happened then?”
“I talked her into a trip home, to Chicago, where we were both from. She didn’t like going home—she didn’t like my family much. Well, my brother, she didn’t mind, but my mom told everyone she was the whore who ruined my life,” he said and Lucy scoffed.
“Rick’s mom still says that about me,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Yeah, well, Ava didn’t take kindly to it and never wanted to go home. But I convinced her to because my family was having a family reunion and I wanted to go. My family knew about my drinking problem, but they were all drunks, so they fed into it,” he said, complete disgust in his voice. “I got fucking trashed. Crazy drunk, drunkest I’ve ever been. I remember Ava saying we needed to go because Leary was tired. I couldn’t drive, and Ava didn’t know how to get back to the hotel. This was before there was GPS on our phones,” he said, and she nodded as his throat closed with emotion. “I got in the backseat, with Leary in her car seat, and she said, ‘Daddy, hold my hand.’ She was so cute,” he said, his voice breaking, and he had to look away, his eyes filling with tears. He could still hear her voice. The sweet lisp of her little voice, still trying to get her words right. She knew “Daddy,” though. She had that one down, and man, he loved that baby. He loved her more than he could love himself.
He still loved them.
Always would.
Clearing his throat, begging himself not to break down in front of Lucy, he went on. “My younger brother Silas offered to drive us back, so he got into the driver’s seat. By the time we took off, I was passed out, my hand in Leary’s. But when I woke up, I was in the hospital and they explained to me that I was the only one who survived a crash with a semi.”
Lucy’s hands dropped his, covering her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. He had to look away again, swallowing hard. “Leary and Silas died on impact, they were hit first. But Ava wasn’t so lucky. A piece of glass slashed her throat and she bled out slowly, and I did nothing. I was passed out drunk, and I still hate that I couldn’t save her. That I was so fucked up, I couldn’t be there for my wife. Once again.”
Shaking his head, the tears threatened to fall as his jaw clenched and he was unable to look at Lucy. “I buried my brother on a Tuesday, my wife and my daughter on a Wednesday. All closed caskets because they were all so fucked up, and all I had was a stupid fucking broken arm.”
“Benji, oh my goodness, Benji,” she cried, her voice full of sorrow as she crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He wasn’t done, though. Tightening his arms around her, he pressed his head into her shoulder as his own shoulders started to shake, and he whispered in a tear-filled voice, “I lived, while they didn’t. My family, her family, all hate me. I haven’t really talked to them since the day of the funeral. I was alone, empty inside. So it’s easy to say I went off the deep end.” As he sucked in a breath, those months of hopeless bewilderment flashed through his mind. “I drank until I couldn’t drink anymore. I got into fights. I fucked anything with tits. I was a poor excuse for a person. And one night, after a nasty fight in a bar, they threw me out the back, my face hitting the curb. God, it sucked. I rolled over, and when I sat up and I looked around, I saw this mirror. The person looking back at me, I didn’t even know. I was disgusting. I didn’t even remember the last time I’d showered. I wanted to die. There was even a piece of glass lying
there, and I almost just ended it, I did. But then she was there, in the mirror. Ava. She was disgusted—who could blame her? She just shook her head, saying this wasn’t the man she loved, and she was right. I wasn’t that fresh-faced teenager; that kid was gone. All that was left was shit.”
Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes. “I promised her I would change, and she said, I’ve heard that before. But this time was different. Somehow I got up, I went to the closest church, and I prayed. I prayed so fucking hard, it hurt. I asked for forgiveness, not only from the Lord, but from Ava, Leary, and Silas. When I opened my eyes, I knew what I had to do. I took a cab to the nearest rehab center and I checked myself in.”
Pulling back, she looked at him, tears streaming down her face as he spoke the words that choked him on the way out. “Never touched another drink another day in my life. Never wanted it. Never wanted to disrespect their names, since I had already taken their lives.”
“You didn’t take their lives, Benji. It wasn’t your fault,” she tried, but he shook his head. He had heard that plenty of times.
“If I hadn’t been drunk, I could have driven my family home. My seventeen-year-old brother wouldn’t have had to drive on the interstate where he wasn’t comfortable. It’s my fault they are dead and I’ve coped with it, but I turned into a hermit because I blame myself so bad. I always knew that someone would come along and wake me up, make me happy again. And I don’t want to scare you, Lucy, I don’t, but I believe that person is you.” Her eyes widened and, shit, why did he say that? Before he knew what he was doing, he was stammering out words. “Wow, okay, sorry. I just got carried away there. Please—”
“Don’t apologize,” she demanded, holding his face. “But you listen to me right now.”
