Page 68 of The Love Penalty
Rachel places the mammoth bowl of roast potatoes on the table and blows the bangs off her forehead.
“Is that everything? I think that’s everything.”
“Mi amor, this looks amazing.” Liam squeezes the back of her neck, kissing her forehead and looking all proud of his woman. “You are the queen of the kitchen.”
“Hell yeah!” Casey raises his fork with a cheer that fires breadcrumbs out of his mouth and across the table.
Caroline laughs, wrinkling her nose. “And you are the king of disgusting. The food’s supposed to stay in your mouth.”
With a wolfish grin, he grabs her pigtail and lightly tugs her toward him. “Let me share it with you, baby.”
“No, ew!” Caroline’s laughing and wriggling away, but he clamps his hand on the back of her head, holding her still and claiming her mouth until she melts against him.
I don’t know how he gets away with that shit. For one, I would never force Lani to kiss me because it’s just plain rude, and two, she’d probably use my balls as a squeeze toy if I tried. At least I hope she would, because I never want her to feel like she’s under my command. Like I have more power than she does.
From what I can gather, reading between the lines, that’s the thing that kills her more than anything about the rape. She felt powerless.
Well, she’ll never feel that way around me. Ever.
Which is why I can’t force the whole “go to the police” issue. I’ve wanted to raise it a few times, but the moments I’ve found an opening, I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I want her to go to the police and have that asshole arrested, but she doesn’t even know who it is. I want to suggest we launch a full-blown investigation, question everyone who was at the party that night, but I doubt she’d agree, and I’m not about to pull that “what if he does it to someone else” card because she doesn’t deserve that kind of guilt piled on top of her. I just hope these therapy sessions will help her move on, and if one day she feels like she can do something more, then I’ll be there to support her.
“Would you guys stop making out so we can eat already.” Mick throws a bread roll at Casey’s head. “I’m starving!”
Fezzik yaps, wagging his little tail as he obviously agrees with Mikayla.
“Oh, shut up, you.” She pokes her tongue out at the dog. “You’ve already had your dinner.”
“Yeah, hangry girl over here.” Ethan points at her. “Do me a favor and let my lil’ mouse eat.”
She shakes her head with a grin, grabbing the bowl of potatoes and scooping a couple onto her plate before piling his high.
I sit back and soak it all in. I don’t know where the hell it comes from, but I’m suddenly struck with this surge of emotion. Listening to the banter firing between my friends fills me with such deep gratitude that I feel my eyes start to burn. I love these guys… and their girls. I love what we’ve created in the house, and I’m kind of gutted that we’ve only got a year and a bit left.
This house brought us together. I mean, sure, the team bonded us, too, but we wouldn’t be this close if we didn’t live in the same house. I’m lucky that my aunt and uncle let us use it this way. Without it, I sometimes worry that I’d just be the rich MOFO on the hockey team who no one really wants to hang with. But they live in my house, so they’re forced to be my friends, and I’ll take it, you know?
I just hope I can keep it after graduation. If my dad has his way, I’ll be living back in New York, miles away from all the people who actually mean anything to me. I’d rather eat slugs than do this fucking summer internship, but I don’t know how I’m gonna get out of it. My parents are already pissed enough that I chose Nolan U over Harvard. If I don’t agree to this summer internship, they might cut my funding for my final year. I mean, that’s a pretty asshat thing to do, but I wouldn’t put it past them. Mikayla’s mother and stepfather did it, so we all know that kind of shit happens.
Dad’s pride and joy are the twins and how they’ve followed in his footsteps. It’s never been about choice. Bensens join the family business. If I’m gonna break that tradition, I have to have a fucking good reason to do it.
And I don’t know what that reason is, dammit.
Maybe I could try and sweet-talk Uncle Hayes into letting me join his real estate business. Would my parents swallow that?
Probably not.
They already resent the guy for pulling you away from the East Coast. Maybe it’s best to leave him out of it.
“You want gravy?” Lani holds up the boat to me, and I take it with a smile. Her eyes narrow like she’s worried about me. She’s been giving me that look ever since my phone call, which tells me I’m doing a shit job at hiding my angst.
Sitting up a little straighter, I brighten my smile and smother my peas in the rich brown sauce before diving into this roast like a hungry bear.
Baxter joins us about halfway through—late, as usual. He saunters up to the table, eyes up the goodies, and makes himself a plate before wandering off again. Fezzik chases after him, his little nails tapping on the tiles while Casey shakes his head.
“That asshole’s gonna give him scraps off his plate. No wonder the pup loves him the most.”
Lani tracks Baxter with a look over her shoulder, then shakes her head at me. “Does he not like you guys or something?”
“I have no idea. The man’s a mystery.” I shrug.