Page 8

Bennett

I peel off my sweat-soaked jersey as my teammates and I are still riding the high on our latest victory. However, they don’t waste any time in giving me grief about not meeting up with them to go out this past weekend.

"Hey, lover boy!" Jackson calls out, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. "How'd that date go Saturday night? Finally found a girl who can put up with you?"

A chorus of chuckles follows, and I roll my eyes, tossing my jersey into the dirty clothes ben. "You guys are hilarious," I retort, maintaining my usual playboy persona. "We had a good time, alright? Nothing to write home about."

"Aw, come on, Ben," Ethan chimes in, grinning mischievously. "Details, man! Did she know who you were?"

"Of course she knew who I was," I reply with a smirk. I’m definitely not going to tell them this date was my mother’s doing from her Holidates App. Their relentless teasing doesn't bother me too much. I’m also not going to tell them how our date actually ended… One passionate kiss that left us both breathless and then me walking away and leaving for the night. Was it hard to do? Fuck yeah. But was it the right thing to do? Fuck yeah it was, and I thank that little voice in my head that shouted at me that I was kissing my mother’s employee. After that, I made a swift exit and retreated back to my house for a cold shower.

"Damn, Ben, I didn't know your ego could fit in this room," says Ethan, playfully punching my shoulder.

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm so unforgettable," I shoot back, smirking. But truth be told, I find myself thinking about Gracie more than I'd like to admit. It was just one date, nothing serious. Yet, she’s pretty stuck in my mind.

"Hey, men," Jackson announces, clapping his hands together. "Who's up for hitting the Rinkside Tavern to celebrate our win tonight? I could use a cold one."

"Count me in," I reply, eager to get my mind off Gracie and join my teammates for some fun. Apparently I’ve got to remind myself that I'm the Bennett Halliday, Miami Kings hockey star and notorious ladies' man. A single date shouldn't have me so wrapped up.

"Great! Let's get changed and head out," Ethan suggests, and we all agree, grabbing towels and heading for the showers.

As the hot water washes over me, memories of how much fun I had with Gracie at the wedding pop into my head. She was smart, witty, and genuinely interesting to talk to.

"Hey, Ben, you coming?" Jackson calls from outside the shower, snapping me back to reality.

"Yep, just a second!" I answer, turning off the water and quickly drying off.

I pull on my clothes and join my teammates as we head out to the Rinkside Tavern. On any other night, I'd be looking forward to flirting with the women at the bar and enjoying the thrill of the chase. Tonight, as I walk alongside my friends, a nagging feeling in the back of my mind tells me that Gracie might just be different from the rest.

I short car ride and we’re entering Rinkside and standing at bar. As soon as we try to order drinks, we are surrounded by women. Some are leaning into whisper in my ear, touching my arm playfully, or batting their eyelashes at me.

"Hey, Bennett," one woman purrs and moves closer to me. "You played great tonight."

"Thanks," I reply with a practiced grin, but my heart isn't really in it. Even though her perfume is intoxicating and she's throwing me a sultry look, all I can think about is Gracie's laugh and the way her green eyes sparkled when we talked.

I try to shake off the lingering thoughts of Gracie as I engage in light banter with the women around me. Nevertheless, no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get fully invested in the flirting game like I used to.

"Seriously, Bennett, you're such a catch," another woman chimes in, running her fingers through my hair. Normally I’d be content to let women be this close and touch me, but tonight, it just feels annoying. It’s actually a huge turn off. There’s only one woman I want this close to me.

Why can't I stop thinking about her? What is it about Gracie that has me so captivated?

I take another long swig of my beer and glance around the bar, searching for some semblance of meaning in the chatter surrounding me. Yet as I scan the room, the only thing that seems to matter is the burning desire to see Gracie again.

"Hey," I say to the woman beside me, gently extricating myself from her grip. "I think I'm gonna call it a night."

She pouts but doesn't protest, and I make my way back to my teammates, who are watching my retreat with raised eyebrows.

"Whoa, what's going on here?" Ethan teases. "Bennett Halliday passing up on a willing lady? Hell must've frozen over!"

"Har har," I shoot back. "I just wasn't feeling it tonight, alright?"

"Or maybe," Jackson grins slyly, "that date you went on has you all twisted up. You’ve already got one foot out the door, heading to having that marriage certificate, pregnant wife in the kitchen, and white picket fence around the front lawn."

The guys erupt into laughter as heat creeps up my neck. I scoff, shaking my head. "You guys are seriously delusional."

"Come on, Bennett," Ethan chimes in. "We all see how your attitude has changed since that date you went on. And now you're turning down other women? You've gotta admit, it looks pretty suspicious."

"Look, Gracie is cool, and we had a good time," I reply defensively. "However, I'm not about to give up my bachelor status for one date."

"Whatever you say, man," Ethan chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Just remember, you can't fight love."

"Love?" I snort, rolling my eyes. "You guys are seriously reading way too much into this."

"Alright, alright," Jackson concedes, sensing my growing annoyance. "We'll drop it for now."

I've spent years cultivating an image of a carefree playboy who never gets attached, and I'm not about to let one woman change that.

I take one last look around the bar, a sea of faces blurred by alcohol and dim lighting. None of them are Gracie's. With a sigh, I push through the crowd and step out into the cool night air, my breath visible in the moonlight.

"Hey, where are you going?" Ethan calls after me, but I just wave him off.

"Home," I reply simply, not bothering to look back as I start to walk away. "See you guys at practice."

"Alright, man," he says, his tone a mix of concern and confusion. "Take care."

Before I even make it to my car, my thumb is swiping over to the message icon, and into the conversation with Gracie. With a few other swift clicks of letters of the phone’s keyboard and the final send arrow tapped, the message is sent.