Bennett (On the Line Book 2) (2 page)

Bennett

The first line was killing it tonight. I was covered in sweat from working my side of the ice, watching Killian as he edged closer to the goal.

“Fucking score!” a fan screamed from the stands near me. “Come on!”

I swept the puck Killian’s way. He gave it a swift tap with his stick and it slid home into the net.

The crowd exploded and the Flyers gathered into a circle to celebrate. We were up 4–2 at home now, a solid lead with the end of the game close.

I glanced at the bench and saw that our new coach, Orion Caldwell, wore his usual game face. He was good about keeping his cool most of the time, not that he didn’t bust our asses into next week. I’d dropped eight pounds in the two weeks he’d been here from all the line drills he made us skate.

When the game ended, we raised our sticks and the crowd roared. I fucking loved the Flyers’ fans. They went crazy when we scored and loved us whether we won or lost. Now that we had new ownership and a new coach, I was hoping we’d be bringing in more wins than losses for a change.

Orion’s post-game talk was short, and as soon as it was done, I stripped off my sweat-soaked gear and took a hot shower.

“Wanna go out?” Liam asked as I wrapped a towel around my waist.

“Yeah.”

“Did you get your shit put away at home?”

I furrowed my brow at my roommate and thought about it. “What stuff?”

“The laundry you left all over the couch.”

“I’m folding it.”

Liam shook his head. “Not yet, you’re not. It’s just a big fuckin’ pile.”

“I’ll fold it later.”

“Dammit, Bennett, living with you is like having a kid. I didn’t even get to nut in a hot woman and I’m stuck with your slob ass.”

“You’re so Type A,” I said, shaking my head. “Move my laundry over to the side.”

“I’m not bringing a woman home and moving your underwear off to the side so we can fuck.”

“Take her into your bedroom.” I arched my brows and wagged a finger at him. “But make her take her shoes off first. And wipe off the toilet seat after she uses it.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Yeah, you are. You and my mom should be roommates.”

He grinned at me. “Does she put out?”

I shoved his shoulder. “Fuck you.”

“She would?”

This time, I shoved both his shoulders and pushed him back into his locker. “You want some? Say one more thing about my mom.”

“Cool it, assholes,” Killian growled at us. “I don’t want to listen to anymore ballbusting from Coach tonight.”

I gave Liam the silent treatment on the ride to Cosmos, a downtown bar lots of business-types frequented. I liked the vibe here; it wasn’t filled with puck sluts and strippers like some places.

I had nothing against those women, but they weren’t for me. Cosmos always had women I could talk to before taking them home. I’d met teachers and several women who worked in offices here. Women who worked in offices were damn sexy, with their glasses and heels and skirts.

Liam clapped me on the shoulder and tilted his head toward a table of well-dressed women in their twenties.

“The ring,” he murmured.

I shook my head and glared at him.

“Let’s get a drink first. I haven’t even looked around.”

“We can drink over there.”

“Fine.” I sighed and muttered again, “Asshole.”

We headed in the direction of the table, and when we got within a few feet of it, Liam started patting his coat like he’d lost something. He frantically checked the pockets and gave me a panicked look.

“It’s gone, Bennett. What am I gonna do?”

“Are you sure? Maybe it’s stuck in the bottom of your pocket.”

He checked the pockets again and groaned. “I can’t believe this. It’s awful. Shit, what am I gonna do? It’s irreplaceable—one of a kind. Just like she was.”

His grimace was forlorn, and one of the women at the table turned toward him. “Is everything okay?”

Liam’s shoulders dropped with defeat. “I lost something valuable.”

“Oh, no. What did you lose?”

The blonde put her hand over her heart, and all the other women were now focused on Liam, too.

“A wedding ring,” Liam said. “I can’t . . .” He swallowed back his emotion.

Another of the women slid down from her tall chair. “Your wedding ring? You lost it?”

Liam shook his head sadly. “It wasn’t mine. It was . . . my late wife’s.”

The collective gasp from the women made me want to roll my eyes and tell Liam to cut the shit. The fucker had never been close to married.

“We were only married for three months before she passed five years ago,” he said softly. “I wear it around my neck just to remind me that maybe someday . . . I can find a love like that again. I’m a hockey player and I have to take it off for games, but I keep it in this pocket.”

“We’ll help you find it,” the dark-haired woman now standing next to him said. “Don’t worry.”

Liam met her eyes and gave her a small smile. “That’s so nice of you . . .”

“Noelle,” she finished. “I’m Noelle.”

She was pretty, and I had no doubt I’d be seeing her in the kitchen of our apartment in the morning.

Liam reached into his pocket and looked at his phone. He sighed with relief.

“I got a text from my coach,” he said. “They found it in the locker room.”

“Great,” I said with only a hint of sarcasm.

Liam was thanking the women and being invited to join them when I wandered off. My role in his stupid-ass charade was done.

He didn’t need to lie to get ass, and he knew it. It just seemed to amuse him to do it anyway.

I didn’t like lying, and I also didn’t like groups of single women vying for attention at the same time. I preferred a one-on-one conversation. I scanned the bar, hoping to see one or two women who caught my interest, but no one did.

“Bennett,” a female voice called.

I looked over and saw Molly, the bartender, setting a tall glass of draft beer on the bar.

“Nice game tonight,” Molly said. “On the house, winger.”

I grinned at her and sat down in front of the drink. “Thanks.”

“Where are the other two stooges?”

I knew she meant Killian and Liam. We usually went out together after games.

“Liam’s over there, and I don’t know where Killian’s at,” I said. “He was kinda in a mood.”

“After a win?”

“He’s a moody bastard.”

I took a drink of the cold beer and nodded with appreciation.

“How’s Dean?” I asked Molly.

“He’s good,” she said of her husband, smiling. “This is his last semester of grad school, and then I’m probably quitting this job.”

“Gonna start popping out some kids?”

She laughed. “Not yet. We’ve only been married for a year.”

A customer gestured at her for another drink and Molly left. I finished my beer and ordered another, watching the news on the TV behind the bar. NHL highlights came on, and I stared at the screen, riveted.

I’d been dreaming of the big time since I was a kid. I was on the first line of my team, but Killian was a notch ahead of me. He’d get the call before me. And he deserved it.

Would my time ever come? Or would I be trolling around Fenway, Indiana after games looking for a hookup until my body wore out or I retired from the minors?

Those questions always made me pensive. Normally, I was happy-go-lucky, but wondering if I’d ever make it was tough. I was about to get up and go home to sleep off my mood when a woman flopped down on the barstool next to me.

She was stunning, with long, dark blond curls and blue eyes. I just stared for a second, too mesmerized to consider how rude it was.

“Charlotte,” Molly said, smiling as she walked over. “How are you?”

“Not good,” Charlotte said. “Bring me all the alcohol, Moll.”

“Got it. I’ll break out the strong stuff.”

Charlotte was trying to take off her coat, but her arm was stuck in the sleeve.

“Need some help?” I offered.

“No,” she snapped, still trying to get her arm out. “Well, maybe.”

I held back a smile as I took hold of the coat sleeve to help her.

“Rough night?” I asked.

She blew out a breath and nodded. “Pretty shitty.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are men so horrible?”

Molly slid a Long Island Iced Tea toward Charlotte and she took a big drink, cringing as she set the glass back down. “Wow, that’s strong.”

“Yeah, careful with those,” I said. “You’ll get wasted fast.”

“Sounds amazing right now.”

I arched a brow at her. “You drink much?”

“I got so drunk in college once that I threw up.” Her chin was raised defiantly. Damn, I liked this girl.

“Yeah, well, a couple of those and you’ll be that drunk again.”

She took another sip of the drink and sat in silence.

“Not all men are horrible,” I said after a minute.

“What?”

“You asked why men are so horrible, and I’m just saying, not all of us are.”

She tilted her head and considered. “Not until the opportunity presents itself.”

Cynical. I’d met women like her before. They usually expected me to single-handedly make up for every bad relationship they’d ever had.

“So let’s hear it,” I said, like a true glutton for punishment. “Fight with your boyfriend?”

“Not really a fight. I broke up with him after I pulled out the giant knife he lodged in my back.”

“What’d he do?”

She told me the story, and I tried not to flinch when she said she was an attorney. She seemed more down-to-earth than the other attorneys I’d met while out after games.

“Sounds like you got rid of a real douche,” I said, shrugging.

“You’re right,” she said, then tipped back her glass to finish the drink. “And you know what? I’ve missed hanging out with myself anyway. Like this, right now. I haven’t been to a bar in forever. And here I am, just having a drink, like single girls do.”

I tipped my glass against her empty one.

“I like being unpredictable,” she said, motioning to Molly for another drink.

“Pace yourself,” I advised.

“Hey, what’s your name, random bar guy with nice eyes?”

“Bennett.”

I held her gaze for a few seconds. What was it about her? It wasn’t just her looks, but something else, that made me want to lean over and kiss her right here. I wanted to touch those long, loose curls and taste that Long Island on her lips.

My phone buzzed with a text, and I looked down at the bar where it was sitting.

Liam: Won’t be home tonight. Get a cab, asshat.

I looked over toward the table where he’d been sitting. It was empty. I hadn’t even seen him leave. Not that I cared. I’d be sitting here with Charlotte until she left or fell off the barstool. And from the pink tinge to her cheeks and her exuberant laugh, I was pretty sure I needed to be prepared for the falling.

Not a problem. This gorgeous, spirited woman could fall into my arms anytime she wanted.

Charlotte

I
pushed my half-empty, second Long Island Iced Tea back a few inches. My head was swimming, I couldn’t stop smiling, and I was warm.

Or was the warmth from the hot man with nice brown eyes and wide shoulders next to me?

Bennett wasn’t like any other man I’d met at a bar. I could tell from the intensity of his gaze that he liked me, but he wasn’t hitting on me at all. I’d rested a hand on his bicep to brace myself when I felt unsteady a few minutes ago, but he hadn’t touched me back like I’d expected.

Most guys would have seized the opportunity and put a hand on my back or waist. But he just asked if I was okay, his lips quirking slightly.

He had to have a girlfriend. No man was this much of a gentleman. And that was a shame, because I wanted to let go of my Type A-ness tonight and be impulsive.

This handsome, mysterious stranger had made me forget all about Riley. I didn’t know anything significant about him. He liked draft beer, smelled faintly of leather, and was a good listener. But what I knew, I liked.

“You have a girlfriend,” I said, my tone edged with disappointment.

Bennett’s brows shot up. “No. I haven’t been in a relationship since last year.”

I turned my body closer to him, his words sending a warm charge of excitement through my body.