Bennett (On the Line Book 2)(2)

I grabbed the rim of the half-full rain bucket, hauled it off the desk, and threw the collected water at him. Then I put it back in place, because I didn’t want a wet desk in the morning.

Wet ex-boyfriend? Hell yes. And he was dripping, his mouth open in shock, when I grabbed my purse and headed for the door.

“Charlotte,” he said, standing up. “I can’t believe you—”

I cut him off. “Yeah, well, I can’t believe you, either. Get out, Riley.”

“You’re crazy,” he muttered as he left my office.

I got out of there as fast I could because I was in no state to run into my boss right now. Beneath my shock was deep disappointment. Over Riley and over the job.

When I reached my car and started it, I headed for the place I always went when I was too angry to even think. The shooting range. And there was no doubt who I’d be picturing when I aimed at the faceless target tonight.



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 f*cking 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 f*ckin’ 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 f*ck.”

“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, *s,” 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.