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She knows.
The air punched out of Bennett’s lungs and he felt light-headed. This was a recurring nightmare of his, where someone approached him in public and said words that couldn’t ever be unsaid. Words that would upend his life and career. He glanced around out of sheer panic, expecting to find a beat reporter or blogger nearby, or, god forbid, a podcaster. Thankfully, there was no one.
“Calm down,” Sofia said soothingly. “I’m not going to tell anyone. It wouldn’t be safe for my uncle. So, relax.”
Haha, relax. Sure. He clutched his cold brew like a lifeline. “Does he know you’re here?”
“Of course not! Oh, my god. He’d be really mad.”
“Then why did you come?”
“I wanted to meet you.” She held up her phone and shook it. “There’s not much online about you. At least, not much outside of your stats and charity work. And your girlfriend, of course. She’s gorgeous, by the way.”
He sipped the cold coffee, hoping to buy some time. This was Nico’s cousin, so she had to be trustworthy, right? Like she said, it wouldn’t be safe for Nico and Bennett’s association to be discovered. But this was hardly a conversation he was prepared for at eight-thirty in the morning. After a night where Bennett got fucked six ways to Sunday by her cousin.
Maybe the best thing to do was switch topics. He put his hand on his heart. “I want to formally apologize to you for what happened. It’s not the kind of thing I tolerate from players in my room.”
Sighing, she stared down at the table, her hands fidgeting with her coffee and straw. “Thank you, but it’s not your fault.”
“It’s not yours, either,” he said quickly. “I hope you know that.”
“I do, yes. My therapist likes to remind me each time we talk. But I really don’t want to get into all that today.”
Well, discussing Nico was out of the question, so that didn’t leave them a whole lot of options. “I can’t answer questions about him,” he said quietly. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Because you think I might talk.”
It sounded bad when she said it outright, but she wasn’t wrong. “Yeah. I mean, that is always a risk for me.”
“Mr. Verreault—”
“Bennett, please.”
The edges of her lips curled. “Bennett, I was raised in the life. We’re taught from the cradle not to talk to outsiders about our family. And I don’t, ever. At least when it comes to my uncles. I love them and I don’t want to see either of them go to jail, or worse.”
“I can appreciate that,” he said, “but I don’t see how it applies to me.”
“Can’t you? You’re in my uncle’s life, dating him.”
Oh, Jesus. Hearing those words out loud . . . Bennett dragged a hand down his face. “We’re not. And I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about this. It would ruin my career.”
“Zio Nico would never let that happen.”
Bennett wanted to laugh. “Your uncle’s influence doesn’t reach the world of pro hockey, unfortunately.”
She hummed and sipped her coffee. “Debatable. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re much more handsome in person. That last ad campaign made you look mean.”
His eyebrows shot up. “It was for cancer screenings. I wasn’t supposed to look happy.”
“I’m just saying, maybe more people would get tested if they put you in decent lighting.”
The bizarreness of the situation began to wear off and he relaxed, even if it was against his better judgment. “I’ll let them know if we ever do another campaign.”
“Good. I’m available to, like, consult if you need.”
“Noted. Is that what you’re going to school for?”
“No. I think I’m switching my major to nursing when I go back.”
