Page 32 of The Casanova Complex

Way to ruin the incredible mood I was in.

Poor girl. Another one of his clueless victims. And by victims, I mean of his fuckass personality and ridiculously overinflated ego.

The muscle in my jaw feels like it’s going to pop, and I realize that the moment I saw that it was this asshole who walked through the door, I’ve been grinding my molars unconsciously.

I can count on one finger the only person on the planet I actually genuinely dislike, and it’s him.

Before he transferred here over the summer, I’d heard of him, but I’d never really been around him outside of on the ice until he was suddenly attending camp with us.

I knew he was an asshole. Everyone knows that.

He’s always played dirty as hell and runs his mouth better than he’ll ever play hockey. The shit he says goes beyond normal shit-talking during games. He hits where it hurts and doesn’t give a damn.

Zero remorse or decency.

He once said some shit to Saint about his mom, something derogatory as fuck and below the belt, and it took all of us to hold Saint back.

Only because we were worried Saint might actually kill the fucker.

Now that he’s a part of the team, I’ve seen firsthand what a piece of shit he is.

When I manage to look back at Merritt, I realize that she’s also staring at Blake, her eyes narrowed into the tiniest slits, her lips pursed into a scowl.

Does she know him?

How?

With her reaction, it seems like she does, and I have questions, a fuck ton of them.

But I don’t even get a chance to ask the first because suddenly, her fingers are tangling into the front of my T-shirt, and her lips are on mine.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MERRITT

I’m kissing Bennett Legros.

I’ve clearly lost my mind at the hands of a man, and not even the one that I’m currently kissing.

Men and their fucking audacity.

Specifically, right now, my asshole of an ex who has spent the last I don’t know how many months blowing up my phone, begging for me back, telling me that he’d never make the same mistake again.

That he didn’t “mean” to cheat on me.

That he didn’t “plan” for me to walk in on him balls-deep in a girl over the side of his couch.

That he would “always” love me and do whatever it takes to fix things between us.

I guess by that he means coming to my favorite bakery with the girl he cheated on me with and looking me dead in the eyes with zero remorse.

That’s the only reason that I can blame this momentary brain glitch that somehow ended with me yanking Bennett to me and kissing him.

Not because I actually give a single shit about Blake, but more so because I fucking refuse to be embarrassed by this dickface, yet again.

Fuck that, and fuck him.

There are worse things than kissing the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, even if he is annoying.