“My name’s Bennett,” I said, offering my hand.
“I’m Dan.” He shook my hand and leaned his elbows on his knees.
“You think it might help to talk about it?” I asked, holding my breath as I waited for his answer.
After a minute, he answered. “It’s mostly school. There’s a group of guys whose mission in life is to humiliate me.”
“That’s rough. They sound like a bunch of dicks.”
He cracked a small smile. “Yeah. And my mom drinks a lot. It’s hell at home or hell at school.”
“Is there anything that feels like a break from all of it?”
He shrugged. “Music, I guess.”
“Yeah? What do you like?”
“Punk.”
“Cool. What grade are you in?”
“Sophomore.”
I remembered myself at that age. Pimply and awkward as hell. Desperate to get laid for the first time. But hockey had kept me focused and guaranteed me friends.
“What do you think you might like to do after high school?” I asked Dan.
Another shrug. “I’m not good at anything.”
“Maybe you just haven’t figured out what it is you’re good at yet.”
A middle-aged guy with a dark beard walked out the front door of the Suicide Prevention Center.
“Excuse me,” he said to us, “I’m the director of the SPC, and I meant to say hey earlier. I’m Vaughn Shelton. I hear you’re our new volunteer.”
“Yes, sir.” I shook his hand and looked at Dan. “This is Dan. He was stopping by because he’s having a hard time with some stuff and we’re just talking.”
“Hey, Dan,” Vaughn said. “Why don’t you come on in for a bit? Get out of the cold?”
Dan looked at me.
“Might as well,” I said. “You don’t have to stay long.”
“Okay.” Dan stood up and glanced down at me. “Hey, thanks for . . . you know.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow if you want to talk some more.”
He nodded and went inside with Vaughn. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Having someone’s life in my hands was a big responsibility. I’d chosen this organization for my community service because I respected the work they did. But maybe I’d taken on too much. I could have picked up trash beside the highway and not had to worry I’d say the wrong thing to an emotionally fragile person.
I got in my car and drove straight to Charlotte’s, my plan to go to the store seeming unimportant now. I unlocked the door with my key and saw her standing by her kitchen table sorting through a stack of mail.
“Hey,” I said, closing the door.
“Hey.” She smiled and my whole body relaxed. Her blue eyes were bright and curls spilled from her loose bun. Damn, I’d missed her bad.
I covered the distance between us in a few big steps and pulled her into my arms. Her soft moan as she wrapped her arms around my neck made my cock twitch to attention in my pants.
“I missed you,” she said, her fingers brushing over my neck and into my hair.
“Missed you, too.” I buried my face in her hair and held on to her tightly.
“You okay?”
“I started my community service today.”
“Oh, that’s right. How’d it go?”
She tried to pull away to look at me, but I wouldn’t move my arms.
“Bennett,” she said, rubbing her fingers over my hair, “what’s wrong, honey?”
I sighed heavily, wishing I could hold the truth inside forever. But like Dan, I needed to let it out. I’d waited long enough to share this with Charlotte.
Charlotte
“I need to tell you something,” Bennett said, loosening his hold on me.
“What is it?” My brow furrowed with worry.
“Let’s sit down.”
We both took a seat at the kitchen table and he sighed deeply. A chord of panic had been struck deep inside me. Was there someone else? Maybe he was still upset about our fight the other day. I hated the ominous feeling that settled over me.
“You know the girlfriend I mentioned, Kelly?”
I nodded. “I remember.”
“She was from my hometown and we went to school together but didn’t start dating until we were in college. And then our junior year . . . something terrible happened.”
His eyes clouded with sadness. I took his hand in mine and squeezed, hoping to reassure him.
“Kelly was driving home from working at an internship one day and . . .” He buried his face in his hands. “Fuck. This is hard to talk about.”
“Take your time,” I said softly. “It’s okay.”
He folded his arms on the table and continued. “There was a little girl, a three-year-old. She lived on a busy street and there were cars parked up and down it. She ran after her ball into the street and Kelly . . . she didn’t see her . . .”
I closed my eyes and covered my mouth with a hand, a sick feeling twisting in my stomach.
“She was killed instantly,” Bennett said, the corners of his mouth turning down.
“My God,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
He sighed heavily, tears pooling in his eyes. “It was a tragedy. Kelly wasn’t charged with anything. She wasn’t impaired or anything, she just . . . didn’t see her. She was so wrecked over it that she ended up in the hospital. She wouldn’t eat or drink. Then she had to go to inpatient treatment for severe depression and suicidal thoughts.”
I could tell his mind was cycling back through the memories. He was clutching my hand now, both of us holding on tight.
“It helped,” he said flatly. “Or at least, we thought it did. She said it did. She went on meds and started eating again. She was planning to start classes again after winter break. And then on Christmas morning, her mom found her . . .” He stopped to gather himself. “She’d overdosed.”
I cupped his scruffy cheek with my free hand and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Bennett.”
He nodded slightly, his expression somber. “It’s a heavy burden, realizing you had someone’s life in the palm of your hand and you let it slip away.”
He blamed himself. That was so like Bennett, who was good and honorable and took care of the people he loved. But it was also completely misguided.
“You didn’t let it slip away,” I said, holding his tortured gaze. “You didn’t. Maybe she didn’t want you to see how much pain she was in. Maybe that was her choice.”
“I should’ve seen it.”
“Did she reach out to you?”
He shook his head, looking numb. “She must’ve felt like she couldn’t.”
“That can’t be. It sounds like you weren’t the only one who thought she was better.”
“Yeah. Her parents were shocked when it happened. Devastated. She was their only child.”
I smoothed my thumb over his knuckles, just realizing why he was telling me this right now.
“Volunteering at the Suicide Prevention Center was hard for you.”
He nodded. “It was fine until I met a teenage kid outside the center who was having suicidal thoughts. I was terrified, Charlotte. I can’t even explain how much it hurt. I’ve had bones broken during games, and those hits were nothing compared to this. I was afraid the kid would run off or I’d say the wrong thing . . . damn.” He took a deep breath and rubbed his temple.
“What’d you say to him?”
“I just asked him questions. What stuff he’s into, what he hopes to do after high school. I was trying to make him see that there’s a whole life ahead of him, but I don’t even know if that was right.”
“Where did you leave things?”
“The director of the center ended up coming out and taking him inside.”
I lifted Bennett’s hand to my lips and kissed the back of it, the soft hairs tickling my lips.
“You did good, Bennett. Great.”
He arched his brows and held my gaze. “How do you know?”
“I just do. You’re
kind and caring and it shines through.”
“I hope I helped him.”
There was a crease of worry between his brows and a far-off look in his eyes. I hadn’t noticed the dark circles under his eyes when he walked in, but now I saw that he looked exhausted in every way.
“Why don’t I order delivery from the deli and we can eat in bed and watch a movie?” I suggested. “Maybe go to bed early.”
“Yeah.” His shoulders sank a bit as he relaxed. “That would be good. I’ve missed having you in my arms at night, Char.”
“Me too.” I leaned forward and kissed him softly, my baby bump brushing the edge of the table as I did.
I’d never wanted to put my arms around him as much as I did right now. All I wanted was to ease the ache in him and reassure him that he’d done everything he could for Kelly. He’d been enough then and he was enough for me now. So much more than enough. I needed to help him see that, but that would mean letting some of my own walls crumble the same way he had just now.
Three months later
Charlotte
Bennett picked up the last box with “James” scrawled across it in black marker and headed out the apartment door, leaving just James and me in the living room.
“So this is it,” I said.
“This is it.” He smiled and opened his arms for a hug. But my very pregnant belly made it hard to give him more than an awkward side-hug.
“I’m going to miss you,” I said. “Not that I see much of you anymore.”
“I bet we’ll see each other more now that I’m moving in with Brian.”
I gave him a playful eye roll. “I love how you work that into every sentence.”
“It just fits,” he said with a grin. “I made scrambled eggs, I’m moving in with Brian. Let’s watch some Netflix, I’m moving in with Brian. The garbage disposal is broken, I’m moving in with Brian.”
“I’m happy for you guys. But . . . it all happened so fast, don’t you think? I mean, this whole thing has been kind of . . . fast. Are you sure this moving in together thing is right?”
He shrugged. “Maybe that’s why it’s called ‘falling in love’ instead of ‘slowly and carefully stepping into an amorous relationship.’”
I punched his shoulder playfully.
“Hey, now,” he said. “I might rescind my gift if you keep that up.”
“What gift is that?”
“Brian and I want you to choose a color and we’re going to paint my old room for you. Figured we’d give you a jump start on decorating it for the baby.”
“Really? That’s the best gift ever. Thank you.”
Bennett came back through the front door, his gray T-shirt soaked with sweat. He pulled off his backward baseball cap, wiped his forearm across his brow, and put the hat back on.
“Anything else?” he asked James.
“I think that’s it.”
Brian came in and everyone said one more good-bye. I knew it was time for James to go, but there was still something sad about it. Saying good-bye to my roommate and planning a nursery for my son made me feel like I was moving on to the next stage of my life.
James and Brian left and Bennett and I sat down on the couch. James had taken his recliner and end table, so the couch and TV were all I had in the room now.
“You gonna be lonely now?” Bennett asked.
“Not with my unofficial roommate keeping my bed warm,” I said playfully.
“Maybe we should make it official.”
I felt a flutter of panic in my chest. We’d settled into such a happy, blissfully perfect routine. Bennett spent pretty much every night with me when he wasn’t traveling, but there were still occasional nights when he stayed at his apartment.
“You mean move in together?”
His wry smile was a mix of amused and aggravated. “I can see the idea scares you.”
“I’m not scared,” I said with a scoff. “I just don’t see why we need to rush things.”
“We’ve been together six months, babe. The baby’s due in five weeks. I want to be there for you both when he gets here, and it seems like that would be easier if we lived together.”
“Can’t you just keep staying nights here? What we have is working great.”
He sat back on the couch and folded his arms. “Yeah, except I don’t have most of my stuff here.”
“Stuff? Like what stuff?”
“Clothes. Shower stuff that doesn’t smell flowery. My bobblehead collection.”
I narrowed my eyes skeptically. “You don’t have a bobblehead collection.”
“But if I did, you wouldn’t want it over here. That’s too commitment-like for you.”
“What? That’s ridiculous.”
“So we should do it, then? You’re not afraid of the huge commitment having my pants and shampoo here would represent?”
I sighed with frustration. “Here’s the thing—when you’re here, I prefer you without pants.”
He took my hand and held it in his own. “I prefer that too, babe. Look, it’s time. You don’t want to marry me—”
“Not after six months, no.”
“What about an engagement?”
After a pause, I said, “Maybe.”
He pulled me a little closer. “Really?”
“Why don’t we talk about it after the baby’s born?”
“And where are you on moving in together?”
I took a deep breath. “Can we talk about that after the baby’s born, too?”
He nodded curtly but I could see the disappointment in his eyes. I hated that I was responsible for it, but I didn’t believe the birth of the baby meant our relationship had to change.
“You know I’m crazy about you, right?” I said. “This isn’t about me being unsure about you.”
“I know. It’s about your mother making you believe commitment is an act of desperation.”
“That is so not true.”
He put a hand on my thigh and leaned his head back on the couch. “So I’ve finally got two off days coming up. Sunday and Monday. Can you take Monday off so we can go see my family?”
“Yes, definitely. I’ve been wanting to meet them for so long.”
“Good.”
“Are we done with the other conversation?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I think we’re at an impasse.”
“I know I’m slow to take big leaps,” I said, turning on the couch so I was facing him, “but that’s because I have to be 100 percent certain. And when I looked at you in that backward baseball cap and sweaty T-shirt a couple minutes ago, I realized I’m 100 percent certain that I love you, Bennett.”
He arched his brows in surprise. A smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. “That’s all I need to hear, babe. If you love me, I can wait as long as it takes.”
“I do.”
“So the sweaty shirt and hat did it? I would’ve broken them out a long time ago if I’d known.”
I shifted on the couch, trying to ease the ache in my back. “It’s just you, Bennett. You’re so sexy and sweet and reliable.”
“Reliable?”
“You’re always there for me. And you’re my best friend.”
He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. “You’re mine, too. You want a back rub?”
I laughed humorlessly. “I’d love one, but I can’t lie down. I think I’ll have to just stand and lean my hands against the wall for it.”
“Only five more weeks, babe.”
I sighed softly. He stood and bent to help me get up from the couch. I wasn’t exactly the picture of grace these days.
“I just remembered the carpet cleaning place is coming tomorrow to do the whole apartment,” I said. “We’ll have to stay off the carpets until the next day.”
“Good thing I know how to levitate,” Bennett said with a grin.
“Yeah, it’s impossible to stay off the carpet in here, isn’t it?”
“We’ll stay at my place.”
I was about to
lean on the wall for my back rub, but I turned to face him instead. “What about Liam?”
“What about him? We’re on speaking terms now.”
“Yeah, but . . . me sleeping in your bed might . . . inflame things, you know?”
He shrugged. “He’ll have to learn to live with it. You love me, remember? You’re stuck with me now.” He turned my shoulders so I was facing the wall. “Say it again, Charlotte.”
A warm sensation spread from my head to my toes. I felt these words in my soul. “I love you, Bennett.”
He pressed a hand to the small of my back, massaging the spot that was chronically sore. As his hands moved over me, I realized we’d never have to worry about James walking in on us again. We wouldn’t have to muffle our sex sounds in bed anymore.
Maybe the next stage of life wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Bennett
Liam was snoring in the recliner when I walked into the apartment. I closed the door hard and he lifted his head up.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a groggy tone.
“I live here.”
“You’re never here.”
I carried the bags of groceries in my arms into the kitchen and set them on the counter. Time to get to the reason I’d woken him up.
“Yeah, well . . . Charlotte and I are staying here tonight because she’s getting the carpet cleaned at her place.”
Liam folded down his legs, got up from his chair, and came into the kitchen.
“The couch is open.”
I shook my head. “My eight-months-pregnant girlfriend is not sleeping on the couch.”
“I meant you, douchebag.”
“Yeah, I’m not sleeping on the couch either.”
Liam narrowed his eyes in a glare. “Really? You fucker. I finally get to a place where I can ignore that you’re with my little sister and you’re going to bang her in the next bedroom tonight?”
“You better wear earplugs. She’s a screamer.”
With a hand on my chest, he shoved me until my back hit the refrigerator. “You want some? Don’t—”
“Relax.” I pushed his arm away. “You’re too easy. Charlotte’s not exactly up for banging these days. Have you seen her lately?”
“You know I haven’t. She’s always with you if we’re home.”
Bennett (On the Line Book 2) Page 17
