Page 5 of Chasing Forever
Bennett frowns toward the noise. “Is someone here?”
“It’s the air conditioner. Been making that noise all damn night.”
He’s too distracted to question it further, thank God. He just spins his coffee cup between his palms. “You know how many times I was hit on last night?”
“You come here to brag, Danson?” I smirk.
He shakes his head quickly. “No. But I went to my room last night alone.” He exhales slowly. “I can’t seem to pull the cord, you know?”
I don’t know. I can’t even imagine what he’s been through. Losing the love of your life and the mother of your child has to change you. And now he’s looking to me for advice? If he knew his sister was hiding in my closet because we drunkenly got married last night, he’d realize how terrible of a choice I am to come to with his problems.
“It’s okay,” I say, but it sounds hollow even to my own ears.
“It’s been almost seven years.”
“And you’ve never…” I ask, surprised.
He shakes his head but lifts his gaze to mine. “Once. At a convention. Walked a woman up to her room… but once it got down to it, I couldn’t go through with it.”
Holy shit. This is so much worse than I thought.
“I see you judging me.” His mouth twists. “But it’s not like I’ve had a ton of time. I’ve been raising a little girl. Being both her dad and her mom.”
Bennett keeps talking, pouring his heart out—the fears, the loneliness, the weight of raising Wren all on his own. It guts me in a way I’m not ready to admit. I move to the mini fridge to grab a water, trying to appear casual so he doesn’t catch the lump in my throat.
There’s no way I could ever be a therapist. I’d be out of Kleenex on day one.
“I gotta use your bathroom,” he says, pushing off the couch.
“You don’t want to use yours?” I ask, immediately regretting it.
He stops, frowning at me. “I’m not taking a shit. I’m just taking a piss. Get dressed, and we’ll head to breakfast.”
I force a weak smile. “You said you already ate.”
“They make these mini egg quiches that are addicting as hell.”
The second the bathroom door shuts, I turn toward the closet.
The door cracks open, and Lottie has tears shining in her eyes and heartbreak etched across her face.
“I’m a horrible sister,” she whispers.
I breathe her name, hoping she’ll stay. But she’s already tiptoeing toward the door.
“Stay. I’ll get rid of him,” I plead quietly.
She’s shaking her head before I even finish the sentence. She turns back once, right at the door, and I swear my heart shatters a little at the pain written all over her face.
“We’ll talk back in Willowbrook,” she whispers, then slips out before I can stop her.
The door clicks shut, and she takes all the air from the room with her.
Bennett strolls out of the bathroom as though he didn’t just bulldoze my world. “I thought you were getting dressed?”
“I have to shower first.” I force a smile so brittle it could snap.
“Cool. Just come get me in my room.”
