Page 135 of The Casanova Complex

God, Bennett looks like he might cry, and my own chin trembles.

This big, sweet, soft-hearted, emotional man.

He nods, and his dad lowers his voice. “Something I should have done a long time ago, Bennett. I’m sorry about that.”

Feeling the emotion surrounding the moment, I gently unhook my arm from Brie’s and say, “I’m going to grab a drink and give you guys a few minutes.”

This feels like a big moment for them, and the last thing I want to do is intrude.

I walk into the kitchen, resting my hands at my hips when I see the disaster staring back.

Clearly, my boyfriend wasn’t the last one in here, or it would be spotless.

I’m going to assume this insanity of a mess is from Zach or Tyler.

I might as well start picking it all up, keeping myself busy. I start by throwing away the trash and gathering all the random shit on the counter. And after a few minutes, I honestly lose myself in the task.

The monotony gives my brain something to fixate on.

The next thing I know, I hear Brie’s voice calling from the living room, “We’re going to run to Jack’s to get pizza. We’ll be back in a little bit. Like at least thirty minutes. Maybe even more.” I shake my head, laughing. “Might even be an hour if I can convince Mom and Dad to get ice cream. ’Kay, bye!” I hear the quiet murmur of voices and then the front door closing as I lean against the kitchen counter.

A few seconds later, Bennett strolls through the doorway. His gaze snags on mine, and he makes a beeline toward me, each step alight with measured purpose.

He collides into me, framing my face in his rough hands and hauling me against him, sealing his lips over mine, robbing the breath out of me.

His mouth works insistently against mine, his tongue tracing my lips, immediately slipping through when I part mine.

It’s a kind of kiss that we’ve never shared, a kind of desperation that makes my heart hammer behind my ribs.

He’s holding me in his hands with such tenderness, but yet… still reverent, like he’s worried it was going to be the last time.

A beat passes, and he tears his mouth away, staring down at me. His blue eyes flicker with emotion, raw and exposed. “I love you.”

My breath hitches.

“There are so many things that I want to say right now. About my parents, about you bringing them here, about us. But I can’t go another fucking second, Merritt, without you knowing that I love you.” He sweeps his thumb slowly across my cheek. “I just spent the entire night thinking that I was going to lose you. And it was fucking agony, baby, like I have never experienced. The kind that I felt in my bones. I told myself that no matter what happened tonight, no matter what the outcome is, that I was still going to tell you that I’m in love with you. The soul-deep kind of love that we just wrote an entire goddamn book about, the fated in the stars kind of love I never knew existed until you blew into my life and knocked me on my ass.”

Oh my God. My hands tighten in the sides of his shirt, the fabric grounding me so I don’t fall into a heap at his feet because my entire body is trembling.

“I should have said it before now. I should have said it the second that I realized I was in love with you. But I just got so damn hung up on wanting to do it right. I wanted it to be a moment that you would never forget—I still do. But then I realized it’s not about being in the perfect moment if I was going to let other moments slip by. Missing another chance to whisper I love you in your ear before I leave for practice, when you’re tangled in the covers, looking so beautiful that I feel my heart actually squeezing. Or telling you when I’m sitting beside you and all I can do is stare because I’m so taken aback by your beauty and your fucking mind and your heart. All of those times I could have told you that I loved you, but I didn’t. I missed all of those times, baby.” His chest heaves, and he narrows his eyes. “Fuck, when I thought about losing you tonight, I knew the biggest regret in my life would have been not telling you that I’m in love with you.”

I’m not even sure exactly when I started to cry.

When the tears that have been prickling in my eyes finally spilled over, but my cheeks are wet, and my throat is so tight it feels hard to breathe.

I shake my head. “Why would you lose me?” I ask, confused about why he would think that.

His Adam’s apple bobs, and he clenches his teeth together, his jaw working. “Gauthreaux.” His exhale stutters along my lips, and he pulls further back to look at me. “He came up to me before the game and told me that you talked. He told me he showed you the video and about the shit that he said to you. Merritt, I need you to know that video was taken before I ever met you and was taken without my consent. I had no idea this girl was filming it, and even so, I am so fucking sorry that you had to see that, baby. Jesus, I’m fucking sorry.

“I’m disgusted with myself, and I’m disgusted that you had to see me like that with another girl. Even if it was from a long time ago, you should have never had to see that. I know how I’d feel if I saw you like that. And I want to kill Blake with my bare hands, and I almost did, but regardless of how you saw it, you deserve an apology. I promise you, I did not cheat on you. I would never. I would never betray your trust. Please, believe that.”

The tortured look on his face is like a punch to my gut. He’s spent the entire night being agonized by this, and I hate it.

“I know,” I say softly. “I wouldn’t be standing here if I thought that you cheated on me, Bennett.” I run my tongue along my teeth when the image flashes through my brain against my will. “Was it something that I wanted to ever see? Absolutely not. Did it make me want to throw up a little bit? Yes. Did I also want to punch Blake in the dick? Yes. But I knew he was manipulating me. He just changed his tactic after Christmas Eve because he wasn’t getting through to me. Because I don’t want him. I don’t care about his lies or his bullshit or anything that comes out of his mouth. I knew exactly what he was trying to do. He was just trying to convince me that the man I love hurt me.”

Bennett’s eyes widen, and I nod.

“I love you. I think maybe that we’ve just been two idiots in love for a while. Idiots who just didn’t tell each other.”