Chapter 19

Eight nights have gone by,and I’m going stir-crazy.

How freaking difficult is it to have everyone in the house at once? Just one night for everyone to sit their asses down so we can tell them the news—that’s all we need.

Everyone having boyfriends is putting major dents in my plans. I’m at the point of saying fuck it and simply acting like the married couple we are. Everyone will eventually catch up.

Bentley’s not a fan of this plan, but I actually think I’m winning him over.

Whoever said sneaking around is fun was full of shit.

Okay, I may have said that myself in the past, which I suppose proves my point.

Tomorrow, we have an away game, which means if this doesn’t happen tonight, we’re going to have to wait longer—obviously, since that’s how time works—but I’m spiraling.

“If you huff again, I’m going to think you need an inhaler.”

My gaze cuts to Bentley. Any other time, I’d appreciate his wit, but not right now.

“Sammy, it’s fine.”

Fine? Seriously?

Whatever expression Bentley reads on my face has him slamming his mouth shut.

A wise decision for sure. Am I acting way over the top? I plead the Fifth, though I’m not sure if that’s the right amendment, but since Tyron isn’t here, I really hope I am wrong, just to stir him up.

We’re squirreled away in Bentley’s room. His bedroom’s a little bigger than mine; his mattress is better too.

“You need help?”

I almost huff out a heavy breath but stop myself. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though.” Because working on my assignment is actually what I should be doing rather than fixating on still not having told our housemates.

But it’s December, and before we know it, Bentley’s parents are going to be here, which was easier to organize than we thought. And honestly, I just want some semblance of peace before Trevin’s hearing mid-January.

“You want to come over here and suck my cock?”

I snap my hand out and grab onto Bentley’s desk to stop from slipping back off the chair. When I’m upright and no longer in danger of landing on my ass, I peer over at where he’s lounging on the bed, a textbook on his lap.

Bentley’s lips twitch. His gaze snags mine. Yeah, there’s challenge there, all right.

He drops his heavy textbook on the bed with a soft thud, his brows lifting in amusement.

“You think you can distract me or something?” He totally can. Hell, he already has, since my dick’s hard and I’m keen for his mouth to be on any part of my body.

Some of his amusement melts away, eagerness and heat replacing it. “Doesn’t sound like much of a challenge, baby. Maybe more like a treat for the two of us.”

I drift forward, all but launching at Bentley. Falling onto him, I press against his warm body, instantly feeling a million times more settled than ten seconds ago.

His “Oomph” is all humor as he holds me close. The sound turns into a groan as I burrow my face into his neck and pepper him with kisses.

A slam of the front door startles me. Muscles turning rigid, I pause and listen carefully.

Deep voices, a chuckle that’s definitely Logan’s, and I shove off Bentley. “Tyron’s here.”

Wide-eyed, Bentley stares up at me. “You mean I’m not getting my cock in your mouth?”

I flick my eyes to his mouth. His tongue darts out and swipes over his bottom lip, reminding me that I’m rock solid for him.

This feels like a Sophie’s Choice situation. Maybe. I’m not quite sure what that is, but it sounds like a really, really hard decision I have to make right now.

Suck my husband off and obviously come my brains out (it’s impossible not to, as it’s hot as fuck when he shoots down my throat), or bolt all the doors to stop anyone from leaving so we no longer have to sneak around.

A soft chuckle escapes Bentley. “Come on. Ass up. Let’s go downstairs.” Warmth and understanding color his tone.

My smile is immediate, relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

I smack a loud kiss against his lips before I move. Once on my feet, I adjust myself, tucking my dick away so I don’t put on a show for anyone other than Bentley.

A flutter of nerves springs to life, churning my stomach. The reaction is at complete odds with the bubble of excitement in my chest. I want to do this: tell our friends about our relationship. I love him so fucking much, and that’s something to be celebrated.

“You good?” With his strong hand cupping the back of my neck, Bentley swipes his thumb along the skin.

Goose bumps skitter in the same direction, and I draw in a shaky breath. “Yeah.” I turn to him. “You?”

There’s no uncertainty in sight. Nothing but gentle determination and a whole lot of love.

“I am. It’ll be good to share this.”

For a second, guilt tries to break free and claw its way back to the surface. But at the reassuring squeeze of Bentley’s fingers, I stop the emotion in its tracks.

Yeah, it’s something I’ve been working on with my new therapist—something my mom kinda gently insisted on. I had my second session yesterday—remotely, as my schedule is a nightmare. And grudgingly, I can admit it’s something I should have started a long time ago. Hell, maybe even before I was fifteen.

But I’m doing it now—something I promised my folks I’d do—and I’m grateful for it.

I reach out and take Bentley’s left hand. Just the feel of the metal against his finger shoots tingles around my body. I love seeing it there, feeling it warm against our skin.

In the safety of our bedrooms is the only time we put them on. After this, the whole house will be a safe haven. My smile stretches wide before I lean in and kiss him gently. It’s a soft press of our lips, just enough to center me.

Then we’re moving, not hand in hand like I’d like, but we need to make sure no strays have come home with any of our housemates first.

I’m first down the staircase. Energy buzzes through my body, tingling my skin and causing my pulse to pick up speed. We follow the noise to the large sitting area and stop in the open doorway.

Numerous pairs of eyes settle on us. There are chin lifts and smiles as the conversation continues between Tyron, who’s cradling a large pizza box, and Kieran, who appears to be lecturing him about saturated fat.

Bentley moves to stand at my side, and my breath hitches like a hiccup in a helium factory. I mean, seriously, it’s like a cartoon bubble is forming over my head, complete with sound effects—pop, pop, pop! I can practically hear the boing as love hearts bounce out of my chest. It’s like a scene from a cheesy romance flick, except instead of sweeping music, we’ve got the distant bass thumping from a nearby house and the smell of Ty’s extra-cheesy pepperoni. But hey, who needs a Hollywood soundtrack when I’ve got Bentley?

Everyone is here. Finally. Even Tiller, Dean, and Logan.

Dean stands when he sees us. “You can sit here,” he says as he moves to Kieran and settles on his lap.

Kieran doesn’t break his stride with the lecture. All he does is wrap an arm around Dean, holding him close.

“Actually….” Nerves ripple over my skin and my voice breaks. Why the hell am I so nervous? These are my closest friends. Even more significant is that they’re all queer in some shape or form. I swallow hard, the click of my dry throat making me wince.

I have Leon’s attention. Dean and Tiller also snap their heads my way.

Warmth presses against the small of my back. Bentley’s touch is gentle, but it provides a strength I absolutely need.

The silence grabs my attention. Ty and Kieran have stopped their discussion about pizza, and six sets of eyes are completely on us.

“Right, so….”

Fuck, this is so not what I practiced.

“What’s wrong? Did som?—”

Ty cuts Kieran off, saying, “Just give them a second, Key.”

My gaze drifts to his, and he sends me an up-nod. Understanding shines in his eyes, and I recall the journey to the airport a couple of weeks ago.

Is that really all it’s been?

Bentley strokes his thumb over my back before he drops his hand by his side. He’s ready to jump in from a simple look. But I want to do this. I even asked him if I could.

Reaching for his hand, I clasp it. Ty follows the movement, and likely others in the room do, too, but it’s easier to look at him for some reason. Maybe because he already suspects. Maybe because he cuts through bull as easily as a swift dribble through a shitty defense.

“We want to share our news with you,” I start, flicking my gaze briefly around our group of friends. Kieran’s brows are high while Dean’s hand covers his mouth. “Bentley and I are married.”

A wall of silence presses against us, almost immediately shattering when Dean leaps off Kieran’s lap, yelling, “Holy shit. For real?” He latches on to both of us—impressive since he’s only chest high. “Congratulations. This is amazing.”

As he squeezes us, I release a low chuckle while Bentley says thanks. But my eyes are on my friends, those I’ve known for over three years. My teammates who I’ve been keeping a lot of secrets from.

Ty’s the first of my housemates to stand. His usual stoic expression is nowhere to be seen as a wide grin is directed our way.

“Married?” he says as Dean steps away. “Admittedly, that’s not what I was expecting you to say.” He hugs Bentley first, then me. His hold is strong and comforting. “Congrats to you both.” He eases back. “When did this happen?”

Everyone is listening. Leon is still gaping at us, disbelief and amusement dancing in his gaze. It’s Kieran who’s standing back, arms folded, studying us like he has no idea what on earth is happening.

When I don’t answer right away, a little wobbly from Kieran’s reaction, Bentley reclaims my hand, saying, “Right after we dropped you and Logan at the airport before Thanksgiving.”

“Holy shit.” Leon’s still staring at us with wide-eyed bemusement. “That’s just… hell, incredible. Not quite sure if you’re pranking us, but yeah….”

At my side, Bentley snorts his amusement. “No pranking. It was sudden, but—” He shrugs and glances my way, stealing a kiss when I look at him. “—it was right.”

“What about your parentals? They know?” Leon asks me.

I nod. “Yeah. Surprised but happy for us. That’s actually something we want to talk to you all about.”

Immediately, our friends back off, giving us a little space.

Bentley speaks first. “I haven’t told my parents yet. They’re coming a few days earlier than planned before the holidays. We want to tell them in person.”

“Good call,” Ty responds. He’s already returned to the floor between Logan’s legs, who’s on the couch behind him.

At Ty’s words, the room seems to settle, everyone taking a seat, this time leaving the smaller two-seater couch for me and Bentley to settle on.

A weird vibe pulses in the room—not really tense, more like curious anticipation. It vibrates under my skin, making my hands twitch. I go to shake them out, but Bentley’s hand captures mine instead.

Immediately, I inhale deeply, drawing air into my lungs. It settles the nervous energy trying to creep over me, and I all but sag against Bentley’s side.

His face is already turned my way when I look at him. He’s so fucking beautiful.

The question is there in his tender gaze, and I nod, happy for him to take this for now.

“I’m sure this is a bit of a shock for some of you,” he starts, and I flick a look at Ty, not surprised that there’s not a hint of smugness in his expression—that’s not how he rolls. “Sammy and I have been together for a while.”

Yeah, “together” and “a while” is what we landed on. Airing our dirty laundry or how much I fucked around isn’t something to be shared with anyone.

“Getting married really was unexpected. You probably have Ty to thank a little for the development.” Teasing suffuses Bentley’s words, and I grin.

Now this is something we previously talked about.

As predicted, all our friends spin to look at Ty. He looks completely content with all eyes on him. “Intuitive as fuck, remember?” His lips twitch, and a chorus of groans and snorts flood the room.

It does exactly what I know Bentley intended: cuts through the atmosphere, putting everyone at ease.

“We wanted to tell you as soon as everyone was back after Thanksgiving.”

I cut in, “You’re worse than herding feral cats. I swear, trying to get you all in the same place is practically impossible.” I raise my eyebrows, shooting them all pointed looks. As I make eye contact with Kieran, I swallow. He doesn’t look pissed off, but I just can’t get a handle on his reaction.

“So, this is us telling you, and this is us asking you to support us, and I suppose making sure you’re okay with the living situation.”

My heart constricts a little as Bentley speaks. This wasn’t something I’d even considered until he mentioned it. Our relationship, us living together, wasn’t something any of our friends signed up for.

“What do you mean?” Leon’s brows dip low, his gaze flitting between the two of us.

“What I’m asking is, do you want us to move out?”

I have no idea how Bentley keeps his voice so steady, but thank God he’s the one speaking. My voice would be pitching all over the place.

“What?” Leon’s question is loud. “Why the hell would we want you to move out?”

My gaze darts to Kieran. His piercing eyes are steady under his furrowed brows.

Hitching one of his shoulders into a small shrug, Bentley exhales heavily. His smile is small and a little tight before he says, “We’ll be sharing a room every night, living as much like a married couple as possible. It’s just….” He hesitates. “We don’t want to impose. Don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable, especially as we’re also going to ask for you to please not disclose our relationship to anyone outside this room.”

Bentley squeezes my hand tighter, his discomfort coming through loud and clear. I push a little closer into his side, trying to give him a boost of strength.

“We still have some things we’re figuring out, and we want to wait until we’ve graduated before we really start living as a couple.”

“It’s a lot to ask,” I say. “Keeping a secret you never asked to know. And I know we didn’t give you any choice. We just sort of sprang this on you?—”

Kieran standing cuts me off. Fuck, he looks fierce. Seriously, there’s an expression on his face I’ve never seen before. It’s kind of freaking me the hell out.

A quick glance at Dean, who somehow didn’t go flying from Kieran’s lap when he stood, eases some of the tightness in my gut. He’s smiling sweetly, glancing up at his boyfriend like he hung the moon.

Admittedly, we all look at Kieran in a similar sort of way. Well, not the “I want to go to pound town” way Dean is, but he’s our captain. He’s the best player I’ve been lucky enough to play beside. Hell, if I had life savings, I’d bet every dollar that he’ll be the first or second pick in the draft next year.

And that’s the thing—I admire and respect him so damn much. We all do. His opinion matters.

“This is what’s going to happen,” he starts. “We’re going to help you move whatever shit needs moving so you guys are officially in a room together while Dean heads out to buy some cheap bubbly wine that we have to pop so we can celebrate properly, and as for us all keeping your confidence… that goes without saying.”

Relief, thick and surprisingly heavy, presses down on me. Emotion tries to squeeze its way into my chest because yet again, Kieran, my teammates, our friends have done exactly what I should have always trusted them to do.

Ty and Leon nod in approval as Ty stands, saying, “And I’ll order more pizzas.”

Leon throws a cushion at Ty as Kieran heads our way. The rest of the guys start to scatter, apparently debating pizza toppings, while Tiller leaves with Dean to go to the store.

Bentley and I stand as Kieran stops before us.

“You both know I’m here for you, yeah?” Emotion spills into his voice, and understanding smacks me in my face.

“We know.” I grab him into a hug, saying quietly, “I know you’re always there for me… for us.” Pulling away, I release a shaky breath. “This is on me.”

“Sammy.” Bentley’s voice is all gravel and disapproval.

The sound caresses my soul, and I smile at him before looking back at Kieran. “I’ve still got some stuff I’m figuring out. When I’m ready, we’ll talk, yeah?” It’s all I can offer.

He studies me for a beat before nodding. “Okay. Just… we’ve got your backs, always. You know that, right?”

“We do,” Bentley answers.

I add, “It’s why we’re all so kick-ass,” needing to lighten the moment.

Kieran pounds Bentley’s back, hugging him tightly. Stepping away, he shakes his head. “I love you assholes.” A soft chuckle follows. “Fucking hell.” Another headshake. “Married? It totally makes sense… that’s the thing.” He doubles down with amusement, a wide grin forming. “It’s a shame you’re going to wait till graduation. I swear, missing out on Coach’s reaction is a pity.”

I snort. “Screw you, man. It may be the final queer straw that breaks the coach’s back.” I’m completely bullshitting. Coach is Tiller’s dad, and he’s been nothing but supportive—and that’s even before Tiller returned to town at the beginning of the school year.

But yeah, his head might just explode if he finds out. Not that I totally wouldn’t let him know Bentley’s mine if that’s what my husband wants.

“Come on, tell us how you want to organize things to suit your new living arrangement.” Kieran leads the way, heading toward the staircase.

The gentle hold on my arm has me staying put.

“’Kay?”

“Yeah.” I nod and glide my mouth over Bentley’s. It’s sweet and soft, and, holy shit, a PDA moment I never dared dream I’d have. “Let’s get up there before someone starts rooting around and tries to steal our healthy supply of lube.”

A choked snort spills out of Bentley. “Healthy, huh? That’s one way of describing it.”

A sly smirk forms on my lips as I arch a brow at him. “You ever want to be in a situation where we run out and you can’t get access to my ass?”

Bentley’s brows shoot high before his lips lower and something oh so sexy appears in his gaze.

“Yeah, thought not,” I sass as I leave the room, my grin wide and my heart full.

I feel so much lighter. Like I’m able to take a deeper breath.

And tonight, not having to sneak around… it’s going to be the best night ever.

The past fewdays have been as close to bliss as discovering your pizza comes with an extra slice for free: it’s pleasantly unexpected, a little cheesy, and hell if you’re not left feeling pleasantly stuffed.

And let’s be clear, I have been so perfectly… filled… every damn night since we came out to our friends.

Not sneaking around at home is awesome. Wearing my shiny ring that’s making my finger a little green is the best feeling ever, and the slight moments of PDA whenever the feeling takes me—or Bentley—are making me ridiculously happy.

It’s even helping our game.

Sure, it’s a challenge not to ogle his ass when we’re on the court, but my urges are getting easier to control. As soon as the front door’s closed, we’re safe. It means less pining—or so Ty tells me, as apparently that’s what I’d been doing.

Trust Ty to notice.

And tonight’s game? Hell, we’re dominating the court. But credit to Westdale. Every now and then, they make a smooth move that takes all of us by surprise. Number 8 especially, a sophomore named Walker.

The guy’s grown an extra two inches since last year, and with the way he’s playing, he could be a serious contender for the draft when he’s a senior.

There are ten minutes left on the clock, and the Westdale coach has called a time-out. We sprint to the sideline, and I take the bottle of water handed to me, my gaze already on Coach Maple.

As we huddle around Coach, Bentley wipes the sweat from his forehead. A quick glance at Ty reveals he’s hyper-focused, his eyes blazing with determination. Next to him is Leon, bouncing on the balls of his feet, while Kieran nods along to Coach’s words as he finishes saying something just for him, ready to reinforce them when we’re on the court.

“All right, boys,” Coach begins, his voice firm but encouraging. “We’re playing strong out there, but we can’t let up now. Westdale might be trailing, but they’re not out of the game yet. Walker’s proving a handful.”

We all nod along.

“We need to keep an eye on him, deny him the ball as much as possible. Defense needs to tighten up. No easy baskets.”

He pauses, scanning each of our faces before continuing, “Offensively, keep the pressure on. Move the ball, find the open man. And remember, teamwork makes the dream work.”

“Read that on a motivational poster, Coach?” My grin’s wide, even though I know I should be keeping my mouth shut. “Nice,” I continue, ignoring the “what the fuck are you thinking” looks from the guys. I should quit while I’m ahead, but fuck if I’m not riding a high. “Speaking of dreams, let’s turn theirs into a nightmare.”

“For the love of God.” Leon buries his face in his hand.

Coach Maple shoots me a look, a mixture of exasperation and what I like to think of as amusement crossing his features. “Sammy, focus. We’re here to win, not audition for stand-up comedy.”

I chuckle sheepishly. “Sorry, Coach.”

After a final pointed look my way, he continues, and I nod along with the rest of my team until he finally wraps up. “All right, Bears, let’s go show them what we’re made of.”

Determination is a fierce thrum through my veins.

Fuck, I love this shit.

We break from the huddle and head back to the court. The final ten minutes on the clock are intense, and hell if we don’t give it our all.

Bentley drives layups, Leon’s precision three-pointers are a thing of beauty, and Ty’s ability to lock down defense never fails to impress me. And in the middle of it all is my grinning ass, intercepting and supporting Kieran every chance I can.

As the buzzer sounds, signaling our victory, Bentley’s are the first arms I find. I’m wrapped up in them, holding him tight before sharing the love with my team.

Off to the side, I spot the camera crew. Usually, I’m all up in the lights, especially after a win, but I turn my back and happily let Kieran take the lead.

After this, we’re going straight onto the bus and heading back to campus. We’re only about three hours away, but by the time we crawl into our beds, we’ll be lucky if it’s before midnight.

Leon nudges my shoulder as we wait on the court, not yet breaking away and heading for the locker room. We’ll make sure to stay till the interviews are finished, liking to leave the court as a team.

“Feeling good?” he asks, beaming at me.

“Fucking A. Games like this are the best.”

Leon nods, understanding what I mean. We want a challenge, want to be pushed, and need to earn every point, but we should not be shitting a brick and worried the win could turn on a dime.

Those sorts of games get my adrenaline pumping just a little too much.

“What are you getting into tomorrow?” I ask. Tomorrow morning, we have a brief film recap time with the team before we’re released for the whole day and evening.

No physical training and no classes, since it’s Saturday.

We don’t even have any type of charity event.

“Tiller’s taking me out on a date.” A light blush appears on his cheeks. “Goofy, huh, since he’s my boyfriend, but he wants to take me out for the day. He’s booked a hotel room for the night too.”

My brain misfires, and an uncomfortable feeling forms in my chest. A date?

Shit, have Bentley and I even been on an official date?

“Not goofy,” I finally say.

Bentley absolutely deserves all the dates, so many they’ll make his head spin and remind him time and time again how our relationship and impromptu wedding were absolutely the right things to do.

“So, what sorts of things have you done on dates, especially when you were keeping things on the down-low?” Tiller is, after all, one of our assistant coaches. It meant their relationship was hush-hush there for a while.

Leon studies me, his head tilted. It takes a couple of beats before his eyes flare wide. “Shit, have you never…?”

I shake my head, not voicing how much of my and Bentley’s relationship has been ass-backward.

“Right, yeah, okay.” He leans in close, and I angle my head so he can whisper whatever he clearly intends to keep quiet. “Did the two of you actually have a night together, as in a honeymoon?”

The last word is so low, I have to strain to hear. The word registers, and it’s impossible to not wince.

Fuck me. I didn’t even give Bentley a honeymoon.

Whatever he sees in my expression—no doubt panic and horror—has Leon patting me on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t sweat it. I’ll help you out.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I huff out a breath, admitting, “It’s just, you know, I’m not flush with cash, so….”

He’s nodding before I’ve finished. “I get it, man.” He turns away for a second, and when he pauses, his focus clearly settling on Tiller, he glances back at me. “Just leave it with me. I’ve got your back.”

Immediately, a “Thanks, Leon” spills out of me. I’m not too proud to accept any help I can get. Not when it comes to doing the right thing by Bentley.

Thinking of my husband, I search him out, stopping dead in my tracks when I see him standing to the side, Walker—the hotshot—talking to him.

Grudgingly, I recognize that Walker’s handsome. You know, if you’re into the blond-haired, blue-eyed type of look, which I’m totally not. Bentley’s gray eyes will always be the perfect color and shape to capture my attention. His light brown hair, soft and a little unruly, the perfect texture for me to glide my fingers through.

And fuck if his pale skin, so light compared to my own and dotted with freckles I like to trace with my tongue, isn’t the best to run my fingertips over.

Skin, for some fucking reason, that Walker’s touching right this second as he reaches out and holds Bentley on his arm, laughing ridiculously at something my husband’s saying.

Is Bentley witty, and does he have the best laugh in the world? Obviously. But no other fucker should be appreciating it.

“Where are you—oh….” Leon trails off with a chuckle. But the sound’s already in the wind, as I’m several feet away from him, my laser focus on the fingers still on Bentley’s skin.

“Sup?”

Startling at my voice—and likely my lame greeting—Bentley jerks his head to face me. In doing so, Walker’s hand drops. Lucky for him.

“Hey?” There’s a definite uplift of the word as well as a question in Bentley’s gaze. “All good?”

“Yup.” I pop the p, my piss-poor attempt at a smile enough for him to drop his brows in concern. “Just wondering what you were up to.” My focus darts to his side and at Walker, who’s looking a little perplexed. “Good game.” I reach out my hand and shake his. I don’t even grip it tightly like a toxic dickhead.

“Thanks, man. You too.”

My smile is fixed on my face as I offer him an up-nod before glancing at Bentley. In the time it took for me to act like a weird dick and look back at my husband, it’s super obvious he’s caught up.

The asshole is smirking at me, right there for anyone to see. I narrow my gaze at him, which apparently is even more entertaining, as he smirks harder.

“You missed me, huh?” He throws his arm around me, just like he would have done at this time last year before there was anything more than friendship between us. Honestly, I’m impressed he can lapse into the role so effortlessly.

I clearly am doing a shit job and need to do better.

Knowing we still have an audience, I roll my eyes. “Yep, missed you like a toothache. Except, you know, a toothache eventually goes away.” I flash him a grin, adding a pulse of “you’re so going to blow me later” in the whole vibe I’m throwing his way.

This time he contains his smirk, allowing me to see the heat in his gaze before he shutters his reaction.

“So, what are the two of you getting into over here?”

Bentley’s not buying my innocence, despite me trying super hard to keep my tone light and breezy.

He presses his lips together. Yeah, he may be coming across all cute and amused, but did he brush an innocent hand on his arm away? I inwardly scoff. Uhm, no, he did not. And yes, of course it was innocent. Even if this Walker guy was attempting to flirt, I’ve got nothing to worry about.

The stupid shroud of green that pushed at me when I was with Leon doesn’t give a flying fuck, though.

“I just found out Bentley grew up in the same town where I spent most of my summers as a kid.” Walker grins over at Bentley’s side profile.

I take in this kid’s expression, trying to figure out if he was hitting on my man or not.

Jesus. My man.Like hell I’m going to tell Bentley that’s the direction of my thoughts.

“It’s crazy, right?”

“Uh-huh, crazy.”

Bentley, with an arm still around me, squeezes lightly in warning. I’m being an asshole.

“Yeah, that’s cool. Small world and all that.” I even tack on a smile.

Walker’s name is hollered. A glance over his shoulder, and he nods before peering back at us. “That’s me. Time to go. We’re on the court again in February. See you then.” His hand lifts in an awkward wave, his cheeks immediately heating, and my smile settles into something more genuine.

“February,” I say. “Keep playing as well as you did tonight, and you’ll make me worried.”

A bright grin flashes our way before he bounds away, leaving me alone with Bentley. Or as alone as we can be, since we’re still on the court with press, players, and spectators all around.

“He’s… energetic,” I settle on.

Bentley’s snort is loud. “Like someone else I know. Well, unless he’s being a surly, jealous asshole.”

Dammit. I can’t even argue with him.

Instead, I elbow him and pretend to scratch my cheek with my middle finger.

His laughter is deep, causing fresh goose bumps to travel along my skin. “Looks like Key’s finished. Let’s go.”

While I lose his arm, our shoulders brush as we head over to our team. Leon catches my eye, and he shoots me a super-obvious wink.

Bentley leans into me. “Do I want to know?”

“Nope.” A rush of anticipation fills my chest. I’m grateful to Leon, but I also need to have my own ideas, as tomorrow is going to be my official first date with my husband.

Looks like I’ve got some research and thinking to do on the bus ride home.