Page 124 of The Casanova Complex

Saint narrows his eyes. “What did I say?”

“Which time?” Bennett retorts as he drops my hand and walks over to Saint, throwing his arms around him in a hug, squeezing him tight.

It’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen because Saint’s arms are trapped by his sides, a look of pure horror etched into the sharp contours of his face.

But it doesn’t deter Bennett in the least, even when Saint finally pushes him off and shakes his head, scowling slightly. “Don’t call me pookie, and stop hugging me.”

“Missed you too.” Bennett grins and then turns to the girls, giving them each a hug and shaking Wilder’s hand, who also looks like he tolerates Bennett’s chaotic, golden retriever energy at best.

“I can’t believe you’re all here,” Bennett says, dragging his gaze over the group. “I thought I saw you in the stands, but in all honesty, I only saw Merritt.”

Yeah, I think my heart just actually skipped a beat.

This is what I have been transformed into. A girl whose heartbeat directly coincides with the sickly sweet things her boyfriend says.

“We were thinking maybe Jack’s for a late dinner?” Maisie says, and Lennon adds, “Yeah, Saint’s flying back out on a red-eye tonight for his game tomorrow, sadly.”

Bennett glances down at me. “That work for you, baby?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Even if it didn’t, I’d make it work because right now, surrounded by his friends, he looks so happy, so content, that it makes my heart swell inside my chest.

“Good game. You were a wall tonight,” Wilder says to Bennett with a tip of his chin, and I swear I watch my boyfriend’s eyes shine with pride.

“Thanks, man.”

Saint sighs, a full-body exhale, before saying, “He’s right. You were fucking money tonight. I can see how much you’ve grown since last season.”

This has Bennett’s jaw falling open and a hush falling over everyone.

I look around them, confused. Okay… so clearly, Saint’s not in the habit of giving out compliments, it seems?

For a few seconds, Bennett just stares at him, and then he rushes forward, pouncing on him again. He grabs both of his cheeks and kisses him right in the center of his forehead.

“I fucking love you too, Saint Devereaux.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

BENNETT

My back slams against my bedroom door the second it closes, and Merritt’s on me, moaning against my mouth, her fingers yanking at my tie, trying to loosen it.

Jesus, this is so fucking hot. I have no clue why she’s suddenly pouncing on me like I didn’t have my tongue in every hole in her body before I left for the arena earlier today.

I barely got her to the stairs before she started trying to take my clothes off. Don’t get me wrong, this might be the literal best day of my life, but I’m not going to fuck her over the railing where my idiot best friends could walk in.

I’m into a wide range of shit, subjectively, but sharing my girl is not one of those things.

She gives up trying to get my tie off and instead moves straight down to my belt, unbuckling and tugging it free. The metal clanks and rattles together, but she manages to get my pants unbuttoned and her hand down my briefs in three seconds flat.

Of fucking course, my cock is already hard and threatening to bust through my pants because I’m currently getting mauled by my girlfriend for reasons I’m not quite sure of yet.

But I’m not questioning shiiiiit.

Nah, do your thing, baby.

Her small hand closes around my dick, and she pumps me, squeezing hard, just the way I like it.