22. Benny

TWENTY-TWO

BENNY

Pre-season games aren't the most exciting, but they are a great way to gauge other teams. Sadly, the way I prefer to do that is while I'm on the ice with them.

I knew I wouldn't get a lot of time on the ice, but we're almost done with the third period and I bet it's been less than five minutes.

He didn't even let Jules suit up for fuck's sake.

I know Laney wants to give the rookies and the guys in the third and fourth line more time to see what they can do, so I understand why he does what he does. Doesn't mean I'm happy about it. What's even the point of us traveling—of me being away from Chris—if I'm not even going to play?

Okay, okay, it hasn't been that bad, being away from Chris. Mostly because I've been glued to the phone every available second—which I only got away with because Bates is the exact same way.

Even though our coach is as far from traditional as you can get, he still adheres to the practice of resting your best players as much as you can. And I don't mind him thinking of me as one of his best players at all.

We win the game by three goals, and I know Laney, Gab, and our new GM have a lot of tough decisions ahead of them.

We have limited spots on the roster, and a lot of good players. It's a good problem to have, and I'm proud of myself for not being in a position to fear for my spot.

Something weird happens while we're walking out of the locker room, though, and it throws me off balance.

"The little you played today was incredible, Benny," Santa says and pats me on the back. "Well done."

I have to stop in my tracks.

"What did you just call me?" I ask.

He stops and turns a few feet away from me.

"Benny," he says with a confused frown.

"He's finally not rookie anymore?" Milkman asks and looks strangely proud of me. "Way to go!"

"I guess he is not," Santa replies with a shrug and a small smile for me. "Maybe we think of a new nickname for you before the season starts, huh?" He chuckles darkly and turns around to keep walking to the parking lot.

"Uh, no. No more nicknames Santa Claus!" I shout after him. Only his booming laughter can be heard.

I get right on the phone with Chris to tell him all about it as soon as the bus starts moving. He's gonna love to hear all about me not being "Rookie" anymore.

"Hey, baby. Did you just land?" he asks before I can say a word.

"No," I say slowly with a frown. "The game just ended half an hour ago," I explain .

"What? But isn't it almost eleven there?"

"Yeah." I drag out the word a bit. Honestly, I'm kind of bummed he didn't watch it. I know I barely played, but still. Okay, I'm being irrational.

"Sorry, a pipe burst here, and I had to come in early. So you're not flying in tonight? Will you be here in time for dinner with Jake tomorrow?"

"What?" I'm so confused right now. "Of course we're flying in tonight. We're on our way to the airport."

There's only silence on the other side of the call, and I get a bad feeling. A very bad one.

"Okay, wait." He speaks slowly and I only realize there was noise in the background when it suddenly stops. My guess is he walked into his office. "That's a long-ass flight. What time are you getting here?" He sounds so... on edge. Nothing I've ever heard from him before. Not even after the disaster dinner.

"Uh," I say and have to pull my phone away to look at the time. "So, I'm pretty sure our flight leaves at eleven which is eight in Vegas, right?"

"Yes," he says, sounding even more tense.

"And it's around a five-hour flight, so I'll land at..." I trail off while doing the math but he answers for me.

"One in the morning."

"Yeah."

"And then what?" he asks, almost shouting.

"Well, then we get on another bus that drives us to the rink and I drive home from there. Chris, what's wrong?"

"You're going to drive all over Vegas at one a.m.?"

"Yes," I confirm, getting a little annoyed now. "What's going on? I told you I'd be home tonight." My gut is telling me something is very wrong, but I can't pinpoint what exactly.

"Yes, I thought you'd be home a lot earlier. Look, I'll pick you up, okay?"

"From the rink?" I ask just to make sure I'm understanding him correctly.

"Yes," he says shortly.

"Well, I guess that makes sense. Your place is closer to the rink. But it's so late, Chris?—"

"Don't worry about it, I'll see you there."

And then he hangs up. I stare at the black screen of my phone for a good minute but still have no idea what that was about when Bates nudges my arm with his elbow.

"All good?" he asks.

"Huh?" He gestures to my phone. "Oh, yeah. All good." I force myself to smile at him then put the phone back into my pocket.

I think about the weird tension in Chris's voice for the rest of the ride and most of the flight. There's no way to know why Chris was acting so weird, but after thinking about it for so long, I don't think he's doing it for any other reason than he's worried.

When normally I would have no issue at all falling asleep, I just can't this time, so of course I feel like I'm about to pass out by the time we land.

I think to check my phone when I settle in my place on yet another bus, and see a bunch of messages from Chris.

Chris

Please tell me as soon as you land and you're on the bus to the rink. I'll be there waiting for you.

And please share your location with me.

I don't mind sharing my location with him. At all. With how worried Chris was acting earlier, it's understandable, I guess.

But why is he worried?

I do as he asks and let him know we landed and share my location with him.

I stay quiet on the ride to the rink, not that anyone minds since it's so late—early, whatever. I say goodbye to the guys without lingering and jog to Chris's car when we get to the rink. I open the passenger door and stop moving completely when I realize he looks sweaty and pale.

"Chris, are you okay?" Now I'm the one who's worried.

"Yes," he says and swallows hard, but I can see that he knows he's not okay. Why is he lying?

"Do you want me to drive?" I ask in a quiet voice.

"No, please just get in, baby." He finally looks me in the eyes, and I see so much fear there that I have to agree with him just in the hopes of making it disappear.

"Okay."

We both stay quiet on the drive—he looks so on edge. I don't want to question him while he's driving, but he better be ready for an interrogation when we get to his place. This is so fucking out of character for him.

I stare at his back when we walk into his place and close the door softly behind me.

"Chris," I say in a low voice. "Please talk to me. What happened? What's wrong? Is Jake okay?"

Oh, God. Please let Jake be okay .

"Jake is fine." He sounds exasperated and rubs his face in frustration.

"Then what is it?"

I just don't understand. He's such a calm person.

"Driving so late by yourself isn't safe, Benny." The shout comes out of nowhere.

"Okay," I say, not about to let him just shout at me. I raise my hands in surrender. "What the fuck?" I ask.

"It's never safe. Especially if you're driving so far away, and on the highway where there's no streetlights. And in Vegas!" He speaks louder and louder and throws his hands in the air like he's done with this.

"I'm a good driver, Chris," I defend myself.

"But this isn't about you !" he snaps, full-on screaming now.

What. The. Fuck.

Chris

I try to breathe through the panic but it's just not helping at all. Just like it didn't help when we still lived in Virginia. It's the same fucking thing, and I can't do shit to control it.

The bad thing now is that I'm not alone. There's no way Benny's just going to let this go. I realize that the second I scream the truth at him.

"But this isn't about you !" I snap and feel like the lowest scum in the world when I see Benny flinch back half a step. He recovers quickly enough and asks the question that finally breaks me .

"Then who is this about?" He's so gentle, so careful with the way he asks it. He deserves the truth. He deserves to understand.

My breaths are still choppy, and my heart's still trying to race out of my chest, but I do my best to speak clearly. "My parents were killed by a drunk driver when I was twelve."

"Oh, Chris, I'm so sorry." His instant response almost breaks me. Tears gather in his eyes as he walks closer to me and I can't understand how someone like him could ever want to be with me.

"I'm sorry," I whisper and close my eyes. "I'm so sorry for shouting, Benny. Oh God, baby. Please forgive me, I'm sorry." The panic starts to rise again. After everything we've gone through, this is what's finally going to make him leave me.

Benny comes to me and gathers me in his strong arms and I just let go. He walks us just like that to the couch and the first tear falls down my cheek as I sit down.

"It's okay," he murmurs to me. "Nothing to apologize for, handsome. It's okay."

But it's not okay. It never has been, and it probably never will be.

But Benny makes things better.

These months with him have been the most relaxed of my life since I was twelve. Even with that whole thing with Jules and Bear, I've been happier than I have in years. I haven't been obsessively calling my brother at all. I haven't stayed until after sunrise at the club because I couldn't drive at night.

I have to make this right. I have to try to make him understand .

"Dad was in a coma for a month after." I start to speak as if on autopilot. "He died and Jake had to drop out of college and start working to pay all the fucking bills." Benny hums and rocks me softly backward and forward on the couch. I rest my head on his shoulder and hold on to his arm as if it's my only lifeline. "He sold our home, and still it wasn't enough. Never enough. So he started working as an escort. I didn't know at first of course, but I hated that he had to work so much and I couldn't do anything.

"He sacrificed so much for me, and when he finally told me what he was doing it took me a year to convince him to move us here. At least here he wouldn't get arrested, right? So we came here when I was sixteen and he just kept working and working to take care of me. But every night was like tonight."

"In what way?" he whispers.

"I knew he was out working, and that he would come home late. Drive all over a town that's full of drunk people doing stupid drunk-people things."

"Ah," he says, and I think he understands.

"I would wait up all night doing homework or studying and would only fall asleep once he got home. I made sure he didn't know, and actually, it helped me."

"How did it help you?" His voice is still quiet but it still sounds perplexed.

"I got really good grades in high school," I explain, finally getting some control over my breathing back. "Good enough for a full ride at Albert."

Benny whistles, impressed. "I didn't know you'd gone to Albert University." He says it like it's not the least important thing about our conversation and it makes me laugh. God, how can he make me laugh in the middle of this situation?

He's magic.

"Baby Benny is magic," I whisper.

"I mean, if you wanna think that, I'm not about to contradict you, handsome." Again, I laugh, and even though I don't want a single inch of space between us, I straighten and look him in the eyes. I have to see those beautiful blue jewels shining with humor.

And I find it—the humor. It's always there, so no wonder, but I also see care. So much freaking care that I know there's no way I'm looking away.

"So," he murmurs and lifts a hand to my temple, combing his fingers through my hair. "You went and got yourself a fancy degree and invested in some guy's invention and made it big?" he asks with a soft smile.

"Yeah, I started work bagging groceries as soon as I could, and got more jobs all throughout college. Jake very rarely let me pay for anything, so I had some money saved up. Enough to buy the shit my friend needed to build his prototype machine, and I used part of the money to help Jake open Provoke." I snort, remembering that day. "I told him he could stop hooking, that he could do whatever he wanted, and he laughed in my face."

"He did?" Benny's brow furrows, though he's still smiling.

"He told me he had no problem being in the business of sex. That it's the oldest profession for a reason. He also said he knew the business and he thought he should stick to what he knows."

Benny nods seriously. "Makes perfect sense to me." Then he bites his lower lip and looks worried again. "Would he be okay with you telling me all of that?"

"Oh yeah," I tell him and nod, still enjoying the feel of his hand in my hair. After the fucking day I just had, I seriously can't believe I get to feel this good. That he's still here with me, that he didn't bolt the second I asked for his location or snapped at him over the phone. "He, uhm." I clear my throat and get back to answering Benny's question. "He's never had a problem with people knowing. He's pretty open about it."

"That's good, right? I mean, he really likes it then?"

"Well he's not as.. ." I wince, then just come out and say it. "Hands on , in the business as he used to be. Provoke is really built more for the sex workers than the clients. It was the way he thought would work best."

"Why?" Benny asks. He looks genuinely curious, and I love him for that.

Oh, God.

I love him?

Seriously? Right now is when I realize it?

"You can ask Jake all about it tomorrow," I think of saying before I freak out even more. "That is, if you still want to meet Jake?" I ask hesitantly.

"Are you kidding? Of course I want to meet him. He's probably got so much dirt on you. I can't wait to find out all your embarrassing stories."

Only then does it hit me.

Benny's back.

My Benny is back.

He's here with me, he wants to meet my brother, and he's holding me .

"I missed you so much, baby." My whisper is hoarse with the emotion of the last hour. "I'm really sorry I screamed at you. I swear to you, I will never do that again."

"Chris," he whispers with a gentle smile. "You can't swear that to me. I'm way too annoying. You've got no idea what stupid shit I'll get up to in ten years when I'm retired and have no idea what to do with myself."

I snort despite myself. "You've got a point." I lean in for a kiss as I think, and he said ten years .

He's thinking about us in the long term, and I realize right then, that I have to do the same.

I want to do the same.