11. Luke

ELEVEN

LUKE

I shift the candles on the table until they're all perfectly symmetrical, though I doubt Bennett will take out a ruler and check. I want this to go off without a hitch.

This date feels more important than any other date ever has, and even though I don't know exactly why, I'm taking it seriously. Making sure Bennett feels comfortable in my home feels... essential.

I run back to the kitchen and see the pot roast is still perfect— just like it was two minutes ago —and check the monitor where I can see Robbie sleeping peacefully on his back with his arms and legs completely spread out in his brand-new crib.

Just like he was three minutes ago .

Man, I need to get a fucking grip.

This date feels important, but it can't be harder than what I went through this morning, right?

I knew the child services people were stopping by today, and I was still feeling like shit for Robbie's trip and fall yesterday, but the kind lady who came by only smiled tenderly when she saw the Paw Patrol Band-Aid I put on his knee.

I was sweating the whole time she was here. Rebecca is her name, and she's our case worker, tasked with overseeing the care Robbie is receiving and that I'm fit to be a guardian over the next three months. Though she used the word parent and that sent my head into a tailspin for a while.

In any case, I told Rebecca about having previously made commitments for this weekend, and we talked through all the planning I've been doing these last days to make sure Robbie's with me but also well taken care of.

That's where Dorothea comes in. A saint of a woman, who actually came by just as Rebecca was leaving.

Dorothea was Gab's daughter's nanny for around ten years. The woman is well into retirement and only agreed to help me out because Gab begged her.

So Rebecca met Dorothea, and vice versa, and the women decided I'd do, at least for now. I was given leave to take Robbie out of state—even though it's only to California, I still needed to make sure I could do that—and Dorothea agreed to go with me to take care of Robbie while I'm at work.

She made it very clear, though, that she's retired and can't be falling in love with any more babies.

I decided at that moment I love Dorothea.

Then I resisted a snicker when I saw her fall for Robbie the second she laid eyes on him, after we'd said goodbye to Rebecca.

So all day, I didn't have too much time to obsess over the small details of this date, thankfully.

I knew what I wanted to plan for our first date the second Bennett's car left my view on Sunday, so I just set everything into motion while I was giving Robbie his dinner and his bath .

I'm going all out, with the pot roast recipe a college friend's mom gave me that I've been mastering for almost a decade, the good wine, the awesome cheese and cold cuts, the romantic ambiance, of course. And lastly, I think, as I slide over to the counter where my phone is, the perfect smooth jazz playlist that can make any person alive feel like they're in a rom com.

Once the wine is open and breathing for a bit, all that's left to do is wait.

As I do, I check my messages, to see the group with my guys full of good wishes.

Rashan

You've got this, Casanova.

Kevin

Yeah, you're gonna woo the man to Saturn.

Cameron

And you have to tell us everything tomorrow.

I smile at my phone as I thank them for the encouragement and assure them that of course I'll tell them all about it tomorrow.

Then I see Gordon finally answered my text from earlier today.

Gordon

I'm glad everything went well with child services and that the nanny agreed to go with you to LA.

My doctor already put me in contact with a great doctor he knows in Vegas, and the house is half-packed already.

I'm thinking I might get to Vegas a week sooner than we thought, maybe the first week of May.

That bit of good news makes me smile wide.

The Draft will be done by then and it's right before the rookie minicamp, so that's perfect. I always make a point of attending, to welcome all the rookies, so it'll be nice to know Robbie's well taken care of with his grandpa when I do have to go.

I send Gordon a picture of Robbie I took today. Bundled up in a big fluffy towel right after his bath, with his hair sticking to his forehead and side of his face, but most importantly with a big smile I hadn't seen before today.

I can't know exactly what his home life was like. All I know is that he wasn't bruised when I met him and he hadn't had any hospital visits, but how much did they actually take care of him?

Having a child isn't only feeding and cleaning, is it?

It's loving them, playing silly games with them, making sure they feel your love in any way possible.

An awful feeling in my gut tells me they didn't pay him enough attention. It's all based on his reactions to when I play with him, when I sit on the floor with him, and the way I talk to him constantly.

I wish I knew exactly what I have to do to let him know how much I love him. And that's another thing on my list. I need to consult a doctor or therapist about it. I don't really know how to go about it because, again, I can't know how our father and Marcy treated him.

I'll ask the pediatrician we're seeing tomorrow morning right before our flight—another recommendation from Gab, so naturally it's the best pediatrician in the state .

Before I can keep obsessing over every single item on my to-do list, the doorbell rings and the butterflies in my stomach go insane just at the anticipation of seeing Bennett again.

The fluttering from before is nothing compared to the absolute rave going on in my belly when I open the door to see Bennett carrying a bouquet of orange lilies. Wearing a pressed, white button-down shirt that fits him perfectly, and pressed slacks paired with a comfortable looking pair of white sneakers, he takes my breath away.

But there's one strand of his dark hair falling right between his eyes, those deep green pools of intelligence, that has me speechless.

He's so fucking gorgeous.

"Ah." Is all I can manage.

I wish I could say I'm getting myself together to actually speak, or maybe just move to the side and invite him in. Even taking the flowers or smiling.

But there's nothing. No thoughts, no intention of moving, nothing.

"Hey," he says softly with a tiny, unsure smile, and holding up the flowers like every male character in a rom com who's about to make up for fucking up.

And that just won't do. He's done nothing wrong. There's nothing wrong with him. It's enough to snap me out of whatever spell he put on me.

"Bennett, you look gorgeous," I tell him without hesitation, my voice raspy.

His eyes open wide, and his lower lip drops slightly. My eyes track the movement. I did think, since the first time I saw him, I wanted to bite it. That hasn't changed .

"Please, come in." I move to the side as I open the door wider, and he walks a little unsteadily inside.

"Oh, wow." The genuine surprise in his voice, even more pronounced now in his expression, makes me want to pat myself on the back. "This is amazing Luke," he says in a breathy tone.

I have to admit that my house, lit only by candles, is a sight to see. It looks romantic as fuck, which is what I was going for, but I'm glad Bennett thinks it looks good too.

I've never had a date in this home. Since I bought it about four years ago, I've only gone out on dates to restaurants. I always thought, though, that it would look amazing lit only by candlelight.

"I'm glad you like it. And don't worry, only the candles in the dining room are actually on fire, all the other ones are switch-on." I got about three boxes of them at Target, but I don't think that's a confession I have to make today.

Bennett chuckles lightly and his smile is wider and more relaxed now. Good. I spread my arm to show him the way and lead him to the kitchen.

"That smells amazing, Luke. What is it?" He peers over the island at the oven on the other side with an interested frown while I fill a vase with water for the flowers.

"It's pot roast. A friend's mom back in college taught me how to make it when they invited me to spend Thanksgiving one year."

"You were clearly a great student." The way his lips tilt higher when he looks back at me almost has me stumbling on the way to get the wine, but thankfully I regain my balance quickly. "Is it—" He cuts himself off and bites that fucking lip. I'm actually enthralled. "Are we going to eat right away?" he asks softly.

I have to blink a couple of times. He really does keep me off balance. Constantly having to stop myself from admiring him. I've never experienced anything like it .

I clear my throat and walk a few steps backward to pour us the wine. "If you want to, we can. I put out a charcuterie board if you're not super hungry yet. The pot roast will stay warm in the oven."

"I did have a very late lunch since we're having a late dinner." He smiles but I wince.

"I know, it's almost half past eight, but I just?—"

He stops me by holding up his hand. "I didn't mean that as a bad thing, Luke. I think it's only natural that you'd want to have a date once Robbie is asleep, but also that you'd want to spend every second you can with him. I really don't mind."

I let out a relieved breath. "Thanks."

"It's the dad gig," he says with a shrug and a rueful smile.

"Yeah," I murmur, unsure of what else I could say.

"I know it's only been a week," Bennett tells me with a small smile before taking a small sip of the wine. His eyes widen with delight and he looks at the wine glass with appreciation before he continues. "I know you're not actually Robbie's dad, but you're going to do all the things for him that dads and moms do. If neither of you refer to you as his dad, that's totally up to you."

I nod wordlessly and then decide to put that out of my mind for now.

It's time for romance.

"C'mon," I murmur to Bennett as I walk up to him, and with every nerve in my body standing at attention, I place my hand on his lower back. I smile—can't help it—when he smiles openly and nods.

I lead him to the patio and sit close enough for our knees to touch on my white outdoor couch—the one that can sustain any kind of rain or sandstorm, but not the sticky and dirty hands of a one-year-old apparently .

"Why did you become a football player?" he asks casually, as he reaches over for a cube of cheese.

The question startles me a bit, but this is what people do on dates, isn't it?

The whole, getting to know each other. It's fine, I can actually be more open with Bennett than I've been with any person I've dated since Marcy.

"Gordon actually told me to try it out when he found me skipping school."

"Why were you skipping school?" he asks with a crinkled smile. I think it might be one of my favorites of his. It looks playful, familiar.

"I was mowing every lawn I could to make money to buy groceries."

Yeah, the ugly truth makes the smile disappear, and I'd regret that if it had been replaced with anything other than the most sympathetic look anyone has ever given me.

"That's tough. You're a tough guy, aren't you?"

I chuckle, surprised that he reached that conclusion.

"I like to think I am. At least on the field."

He winces before reaching for another bit of cheese and serrano. "I hope you don't take offense to this, but I think the only times I've seen you play was when you lost to Adam, and then when you won against him. The Super Bowl, I mean."

"I don't mind at all, cutie."

"Cutie?" he asks with an amused but tender look on his face.

"Felt right," I say with a shrug, and reach for some food. I take advantage of the movement when I lean back and throw an arm over the back of the couch. My fingers are a hair's breadth away from his shoulder but I don't touch him. Yet. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," he says, and shifts close enough that my hand presses against the top of his arm. I like that. The need to be close to him and stay that way is intense, startlingly so, but knowing he feels it too has all those butterflies coming back to life.

"So, Gordon suggested it and you started playing football, just like that?"

I nod. "And never stopped. Why did you become a writer?"

"I just started writing stories when I was a kid. And then never stopped." His cheeky grin breaks any resolve I had of taking it slow and waiting until the end of the night.

I just have to taste him. I have to kiss him.

I lean in, bolstered by the look of hope in his eyes. My own start to close the closer I get and are shut when I feel his hand on my chest. I like it. It's so warm, so right . But then he pushes.

I startle back immediately, eyes wide and full of questions, only to see Bennett's are closed, with his whole face scrunched up.

"I need to tell you something."

Well, that's ominous.

"Okay," I whisper, and lean even further back. "Go ahead." I encourage him gently. My nerves betray me with the way my voice shakes. Everything was going so well.

What is he about to tell me?

Why did he have to stop our first kiss to tell me?

"I—" he whispers, then finally opens his eyes. "I'm asexual."

"Okay," I say. Feeling the red-hot shame of ignorance. I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, that's not a secret. "Wha—" I start but have to clear my throat before I go on. He's probably going to realize that I'm a typical dumb jock now. Still, I have to get the question out. I have to understand him, if there's even a zero-point-one chance that he won't kick me to the curb after I ask. "What does that mean? "

Bennett lets out a breath measuredly. Then straightens and looks right into my eyes.

"It means I don't feel sexual attraction. I don't like sex, I don't ever want to have sex. I just want the relationship part of.. . romance."

It has a name?

How the fuck had I never heard of... Is it asexuality, then?

Is that what I am too?

It feels like my lungs expand more than they ever have with the deep breath I take. It feels like my whole body doesn't weigh an ounce suddenly. But also like I'm finally, firmly where I belong at the same time.

Oh God.

Is this what I am?

Yes , a voice deep within me answers.

And the first tear falls.