14. Bennett

FOURTEEN

BENNETT

I sigh as I fold the last shirt and place it in the drawer. I might slam it a bit as I close it, but my foul mood is to blame.

The one that's been brewing inside me since I last saw Luke Wednesday night.

It was barely there Thursday morning when I had my online session with Dr. Wendy. I didn't even notice it after she congratulated me on taking a leap of faith with Luke.

Then Luke's first text came in when he landed in LA.

Luke

Just landed.

I forgot to tell you that I'll be really busy the next few days and might not have a lot of time to text, but I will whenever I can.

That was all my brain needed to suddenly turn off any good faith I had toward Luke. Doubts started flooding my thoughts .

Was our date like love bombing?

Am I just falling into my same old self-destructive patterns?

Was Luke lying when he said he's ace too? Okay, even full of doubt and fear I know his reaction would've been damn hard—if not impossible—to fake.

But maybe he's dating lots of other people even if he's not sleeping with them.

Maybe he has a person he dates in every place he visits during the season.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

It hasn't stopped in four days and I'm so over it.

I want to shut off my brain for only a few hours, but not even getting lost in the dream world I literally created seems to be working.

Which only pisses me off more.

Work with Gab on Thursday and Friday went relatively well, and she asked if it was okay to pause until the Draft was done. I readily agreed since, like I told Luke, I have a lot of words to catch up on.

But now that I've got the house quiet and to myself, as well as endless hours to just write, write, and write some more, it's not happening.

I regret the way I replied to Luke this morning. Regretted it even more when he didn't write back.

I already blew this, and it hasn't even been a week. But do I have to apologize for something, or is this the way it was going to end either way?

There you go making assumptions again . I hear Josie's voice in my brain.

My best and oldest friend knows me better than anyone. Even if she doesn't know exactly what happened with Jeremy, she knows the end of that relationship left me like a shell of myself and desperate to make a change.

She would also be hitting me over the head repeatedly if she were here and knew what an asshole I'd been to Luke the last few days.

But the other voice in my head won't stop—the one that's awful and mean. It's my own voice telling me these things, and that is somehow worse than if it were anyone else's, I think.

Luke would never be satisfied with such a boring partner.

Luke probably wants someone way more fit than I am.

Luke deserves someone fun and outgoing instead of me—a homebody who's happiest sitting at my desk and writing, or lying on a couch and reading the latest Stephen King thriller.

Luke only wants me because he thinks I'm something different.

Luke could never ? —

A loud knock on the paneled door of the pool house breaks me out of the spiral.

Thank God , I think, as I wipe away the tears that have fallen down my cheeks. I walk slowly to the door, trying to get my shit together so Mom or Dad—the two most likely people to be knocking on my door—don't know how shitty I'm feeling.

But when I get to the door and see the now-familiar hulking figure of Luke, the tears just resume their steady stream down my face.

"Hey," I say as I open the door quickly, still trying to wipe my face. He doesn't deserve to see me like this. He deserves an apology.

And don't forget the explanation, Josie's voice pipes up again.

"What's wrong?" he asks, immediately worried and on alert like I knew he would be.

It just makes me hate myself more .

"Argh," I groan, and cover my face as I start to sob. My shoulders shake and I can't even fight it when I feel Luke's arms wrap around me. Because I do want him to comfort me, even if I don't deserve it, even if it's all my fault. Especially because I'm pretty sure he's gonna kick me to the curb when I explain that the reason for my behavior is my own stupid head.

"Shh." He soothes. "It's okay, cutie. Everything's okay." He pats the back of my head and rocks us in our embrace a little.

Why does it make it hurt even more?

"It's not," I say and wrench myself away. I force my eyes up to his. "It's not okay. I've been an asshole for no good reason, and I just suck ! I'm the fucking worst and you shouldn't have to comfort me. I should be begging you to let me explain what I don't even know how to explain."

Luke looks stunned for a solid ten seconds, then snaps out of it and gives me what I assume is his game-on face.

"Okay then, try to explain."

"I . . . I . . . I . . ." I don't even know how to begin. "Doubts!" I shout, the second the word comes to mind.

"All right," Luke says and sighs heavily. He lowers his head and rubs his eyebrows with two fingers. "Why don't you go sit down and I'll get you a glass of water. Breathe, get your thoughts together, and I'll hear you out."

I do as he says like a mindless robot. I just sit on the couch and stare at the turned-off TV. Should I tell him about Jeremy? Should I tell him like, everything ? My stomach knots painfully at the thought of that, but I know it's fear doing it.

Nothing else.

I know I have to explain why I became who I am now. He deserves at least that.

"Okay," Luke says as he walks into the living room with two big glasses. He hands me one and sits next to me. "Take your time, I'm not in a hurry."

I nod and take a few gulps of water to wet my very dry mouth.

"I, well, I'm fucked up, Luke."

"In what way?" he asks with a confused frown, like he doesn't believe me at all.

"In the relationships way." I sigh and turn to look at him, that's the least he deserves. "Before I had Lizzie, I was constantly looking for love. Trying to find a man who'd want me despite everything I am and everything I'm not. I was getting pretty desperate, I admit. It wasn't pretty. I had practically no self-esteem. I'd been living alone in Seattle since I graduated college and just... I was so lonely."

I take a big breath and close my eyes for a second to get ready for what comes next.

"I met this guy. He seemed perfect. Wanted monogamy, but was fine with not having sex and him taking care of himself. I was with him for about three months I think, when he convinced me to try and bottom for him."

I hear Luke's sharp intake of breath, but I don't stop talking. If I do, I won't be able to pick it back up again.

"I-I don't know why I said yes. I think it must've been the desperation to keep him happy with me. To make him stay. I just wanted one person to stay . So then we started, and I didn't like it, couldn't keep kidding myself into going through with it. I told him to stop, and he didn't. That's pretty much it. It took me a few days to finally break it off with him. I got a therapist right after that and have been working through it since.

"You're the first person I've dated since, and I guess all the self-doubt I was feeling before him didn't go anywhere, it was just hiding and waiting until I started seeing someone again. I've been focused on Lizzie, on work, on my friends and my family, and nothing else. I... I'm sorry, Luke." I want to reach over to him so bad, but I know I don't have the right to.

"You gave me absolutely no reason to doubt that everything you've said to me is the truth, but the second you told me you wouldn't be able to chat a lot with me while you were in LA, I started spiraling. I'm not telling you all this so you'll think this is your fault, because you were acting like a normal, mature adult. It's me that's fucked up, and I'm sorry I was so short with you."

I finally run out of steam and lower my gaze.

I don't have the strength to look at him while he tells me I'm a mess he doesn't have the time to handle.

"Well, that's a lot of information to take in in less than five minutes, cutie," Luke says with a casual tone, but I can tell he's doing it deliberately. I still keep my gaze down as I feel him scoot closer to me and wrap me in his arms. "While you wait for me to get my thoughts together, why don't we cuddle a bit, is that okay?" I hear the barely repressed anger in his voice, but his words tell me it's not directed at me.

"Ye—yeah," I say in a croaky voice. I can't believe this man. This amazing, beautiful man. "It's okay." I rest my head on his shoulder and wrap an arm around his abdomen. I let all the tension in my body go. I release it and just breathe in Luke's crispy scent.

We stay like that, silent in our embrace until our breaths synchronize, and that just makes me feel seen, cared for. I think through everything I said, and I can't imagine what Luke must think about me now.

I don't want him to worry all the time about keeping me from spiraling again. What he did—letting me know he wouldn't be able to text often—was kind and considerate and I don't want him to change that at all. I want him to be himself .

I'm the one who has to work on his shit.

I know if he starts being more mindful and overthinking everything he says or does, he'll feel restricted eventually and resent me for it.

That's not what I want.

What I want is to . . . feel better?

Sounds simple, doesn't it?

But I haven't managed it in years of therapy. How am I going to manage it now?

"Okay, I think I've got it." Luke's tone has me leaning away and looking up at him. He sounds so... normal. "First, I'm sorry that asshole hurt you, cutie. I want to kill him, not gonna lie, but I know I have to keep my shit together and not go to prison, so I won't. I also won't ask any more questions about it, 'cause it seems to me like you don't really want to talk about it and that's perfectly okay. I just want you to know that if you do ever want to talk about it more, I'm here, I'll listen, and I won't fly off the handle or hire a PI and a hitman, okay?" I see the anger in his blue eyes, but still...

A snort escapes me despite everything.

We're talking about the worst thing that's ever happened to me and he can make me snort... What is this dark magic?

"Okay," I say and nod. He opens his mouth to keep going, but I just have to kiss him. I pour all my apologies, all my thanks, and all my thoughts into that one simple but hard kiss.

I see he understood some of it when I lean back, and his eyes are doing that insanely attractive crinkling thing again. He even smiles at me and runs his fingers through my hair.

"Second, there will be a lot of times when I can't get to my phone, cutie. I train a lot, I have to talk to the press, and this week even when we're in the war room for the Draft, I won't be able to text you for hours then. I can't change that," he says with an apologetic wince, and that's my cue to pipe up.

"And you should never have to change that to accommodate the stupid doubts that aren't even your fault. I don't want you to change it. I'm sorry I only told you about this when you came by to demand answers, but I should've told you while you were away. I should've explained so you weren't left in the dark. I promise I will from now on, and that if you tell me you're not gonna be able to answer, I'll take it at face value, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I say, and emphasize it with a decisive nod.

"Okay then. The third and I think last thing for now, I guess, is that I want us to date exclusively. I haven't dated in more than a year and I'm not interested in anyone but you. What do you think?"

Instead of answering, I tackle him so he's flat on his back on the couch and kiss the hell out of him. The man deserves no less.

Six Days Later

Luke

Hey cutie, just letting you know I'm gonna have lunch with the guys tomorrow before meeting you.

But we're still on to go to the park with the kids?

The text comes through right as I'm climbing the stairs to wake Lizzie up from her afternoon nap. It stops me in my tracks, and I have to close my eyes and focus on breathing to stop the onslaught of awful thoughts from making me cry .

He's gonna tell his friends.

He's gonna tell them what a mess I am and they're going to convince him to cut me loose.

His friends are going to hate me.

They're never going to accept me.

I let out the big breath fast through my mouth and practically run to my room. I can't fucking stop the thoughts, so I'm going to do what I told Luke I would if this happened.

I throw myself on the bed and call him.

"Hey, cutie. Is everything okay?" His deep, warm voice calms something inside me slightly, but not nearly enough to disguise the fear I'm feeling when I talk.

"I'm having doubts again."

"Okay, talk 'em through with me," he says, with no hesitation or frustration in his voice. Just that, has one tear slipping out of my eye and down the side of my face.

So, I do. I tell him everything that went through my mind after reading his texts and he listens without interrupting.

"Fuck, cutie," he says when I'm finally done. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but your brain can be kind of an asshole, huh?"

I let out a watery chuckle at that.

"You can say that again, louder for everyone in the back. My brain absolutely is the biggest asshole in the world."

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, seriously.

"I'm sorry, too, Luke. Sorry that we just talked about this and it's happening again."

"No, don't apologize for that, I mean I'm sorry this happens to you. I don't know if there's anything I could do differently. Any way I could've said it that would stop this from happening."

"No. Don't you change anything. You're doing everything perfectly, Luke, I swear. Please, promise me you won't change the way you communicate with me."

"Okay." He sounds dubious.

"All I need is for you to listen when I tell you where my thoughts go and to try and not take it personally because I swear to everything that's holy my reactions have nothing to do with you."

"I'll do all I can to not change anything unless you tell me something I'm doing is making it worse, okay?"

"Thank you." I breathe out the words.

"Now, how about you meet the guys? Maybe in a few weeks? You can get to know them better, and that way you'll see that for one thing they're the least judgmental people alive because they're all well aware of how disgusting their duffel bags are, so really, there's no room for them to criticize others."

I laugh at that and think it over.

"I'd love to meet your friends . . . officially."

"Perfect, how about the Friday after next?"

"Yes," I say, and realize there's a smile on my face.

I was losing my shit and now I'm smiling like an enamored middle schooler texting his crush for the first time.

"That's perfect and it's a great idea. Now," I say, trying to pull myself together as I sit up. "You have fun with your friends tomorrow and we'll see you two at the park around three?"

"Can't wait, cutie."