Page 120 of The Casanova Complex

I don’t think she has any idea just how lucky I feel to be able to share this with her.

Gently, I set her back onto her feet, but I don’t let go because I need just a few more seconds of this.

Because I’m not ready to let her go yet.

When she finally pulls back and stares up at me with her warm, beautiful brown eyes, they’re still brimming with tears.

Happiness shines so brightly on her face that it makes my heart swell in my chest.

“God, I can’t even believe it, Bennett. Like, it’s just the most surreal feeling. I mean, I know what it says—it’s right there, but it still just feels unbelievable. I’m going to OU Law.”

“Fuck yeah, you are, and you’re going to be the most badass fucking lawyer in all of New Orleans.”

Her squeal echoes around the room as she turns back to her bed, climbing on top, and she grabs her laptop, reading the email again.

I just sit beside her, relishing how fucking happy she is right now, wishing I could bottle everything about this up and save it. I twirl a piece of her hair around my finger, watching her reread it again and again.

A few minutes later, she slams it shut and flops back down onto the mattress, staring up at her ceiling. “This feels like a dream. I mean, it literally is my dream, and it’s actually coming true, Bennett.”

I lie down beside her, turning my head to look at her.

God, I want every single fucking dream she ever has to come true.

And I want to be the one to help make them happen.

I’m so fucking crazy about her. And I’m so proud of her.

But it also has guilt clawing at my insides, because there’s that tiny buried part of me, that place in the pit of my stomach, that tugs because of my own insecurities, my own doubts creeping in.

My girl is getting everything she ever wanted, and I’d do anything to make that happen, but what if I’m the one who’s going to hold her back?

All that shit that Gauthreaux spewed that night at the Christmas party comes flooding back in waves that make my chest tight.

What if I never get a contract?

What if it’s true—what if I’m just going to be a fucking loser who’s stuck here with no clue what he’s going to do with his life because all of his plans fell short.

What if I’m dating the most beautiful, talented, brilliant woman in the fucking universe, and I don’t have shit to offer her because my own fucking future is currently the world’s greatest mystery.

My future feels out of reach, and I can’t help but think… who even am I without hockey?

Of course, it isn’t that I can’t be happy for her. There’s nothing that makes me happier than knowing that this is her dream coming true.

I’m just… I’m scared.

Scared because I’m falling in love with Merritt. Fuck, no, I’m already in love with her.

There’s no way that what I’m feeling isn’t love.

And while her future is secure and stable, I want mine to be too. And I want her to be part of it.

I just want to be enough for her.

I want to be the best man I can for her.

I want to show my family that hockey is not just a pipe dream. That it’s going to be my career for the rest of my life until I retire.

I’ve been performing well the last few months in the net, feeling more like my old self. We’re winning games. But even now that I’m out of my rut, there’s still been no interest. With every day that ticks by and no scouts coming to watch me play, nothing in my inbox, and no agents beating down my door, the more worried I get.