Every Night She Sleepwalked to Him—Until He Pretended No More Chapter 09

Every Night She Sleepwalked to Him—Until He Pretended No More Chapter 09

Bennett was right there. My vision swam. The room tilted. I was so tired…

Comments flooded my vision. [HELP the side character just got caught by the MMC. So awkward I can’t breathe.]

[Awkward? She goes to his room every night. He’s used to it by now.]

[The MMC was literally hoping she’d be in his room when he got home.]

[Called it.]

The words blurred together, pulling me under. My eyelids sank. My body gave out, and someone caught me.

Bennett’s mouth curved. He gathered me against him, then lowered me onto the bed.

He said my name, soft. “Maren…”

Once he was sure I was out, he left for the shower.

He came back in a robe, hair still damp, and sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes settled on me, soft and

careful.

He leaned in, buried his face in the curve of my neck, and breathed me in. His voice came out rough. “God, you smell good.”

My eyes opened. Another episode.

I slipped the hair tie off my wrist and pressed it into his hand.

The words came out before I could stop them, before my brain could filter them. “Bennett, I have feelings for

you.”

Bennett closed his fingers around the hair tie. His jaw tightened. “You have a boyfriend, and you keep telling me this? What do you want me to be, Maren? Your side piece?”

I said nothing.

His hand closed around my wrist. “Look at me. Tell me the truth: is Graham really your boyfriend? Or are you lying to me?”

My mind came back. But whatever had just happened, I couldn’t remember any of it.

Bennett was still waiting for an answer. Was Graham really my boyfriend?

“I’m not lying.” My voice was steadier than I felt. “Graham is my boyfriend.”

Something dangerous settled behind Bennett’s eyes. “Then what am I?”

I had no answer for that. I shut my eyes and let the silence answer for me.

The next afternoon, I went to the Langford Group building to drop off some documents.

Bennett’s assistant met me outside his office. “Miss Whitlock, Mr. Langford’s in a meeting. I’ll let him know

you’re here. Please, have a seat.”

I waved her off. “No need. I’m not in a rush; I can wait.”

“Of course.” She brought me a coffee.

Comments drifted past. [Camille is in Bennett’s office right now.]

[Ever since they met IRL, they’ve been inseparable.]

[Bennett’s finally putting those practice sessions with Maren to good use.]

[The side character’s gonna be out there waiting forever.]

I waited an hour. Then I got up to use the restroom.

I was in the stall when I heard heels clicking outside, then Camille’s voice on the phone. “It lasted an entire

hour. I’m exhausted.”

“He said we have to keep going tonight…”

Was she talking about Bennett?

Comments appeared. (Obviously she’s talking about Bennett.]

[She’s “complaining” but we all know she’s bragging.]

[Young love. Disgusting. I love it.]

[Sounds like Bennett won’t be coming home tonight.]

I stepped out. Camille spotted me and wrapped up her call. “Gotta go. Talk later.”

Her face shifted. “Miss Whitlock, I was actually about to come find you.”

“Brent again?”

Camille nodded. “He gave me a deadline. End of tomorrow: I either agree to date him, or he drops the video in a group chat with our entire social circle.”

Camille’s composure cracked. “That video. It shows everything. I can’t let those people see it. What do I do?”

“Hey. Don’t panic.” I kept my voice steady. “If he actually sends it, he’s handing us proof of a crime.”

“But we’re not going to let it get that far. File a police report tomorrow.”

Camille hesitated. “There’s a gala tomorrow night. I can’t skip it. And Brent will probably be there.”

“If you have to go, keep your security close kiscreet, but close. If Brent comes at you again, he’s just handing us more evidence. Stay away from him. Don’t let him get you alone, and don’t engage. Your safety

comes first.”

Camille straightened. “I will.”

Graham and I had invitations to the same gala.

After Camille left, the assistant brought me to Bennett’s office.

The Langfords had their own legal team, but three months ago Bennett had started outsourcing some of the consulting work to our firm.

Bennett had changed. The suit he’d worn that morning was gone.

My stomach turned. I didn’t want to think about why.

I handed him the documents. As he reached for them, I caught sight of his tie tossed on the couch.

Two buttons on his shirt were undone. And there, just beneath the open collar: a hickey.

Had Camille left it? Or…