The Game Series (34 page)

“Oh – I think I’ll probably end up teaching it.” I shrug. “Maybe I’ll go into publishing, I’m undecided exactly what. I’d like to write a book one day though. What about you?”

“I hope to get into Harvard Med. It’s not easy to do but I’m on the right track.”

Well done, Lila. Not only do you set me up with a junior, you pick the one that’s planning on going to the opposite side of the country in eighteen months.

“Wow. Quite the goal.” I smile.

“Hey – yours isn’t bad. At least you get to do what you love. My career choice is largely influenced by my family.”

“Oh.” Awkward. “It can’t be that bad, right? Or you wouldn’t do it?”

“No, it’s my second choice career, so it’s not hard.”

“What was your first?” Oh, God. Am I acting too interested? I don’t want to be rude but I don’t want him to think I’m interested. Dammit. This whole thing is one giant clusterfuck.

Aston walks past the window and double-takes. My eyes flick toward him, and I’m aware of Callum talking but I can’t really hear him. I’m too focused on the clenching of Aston’s fists and tightening of his jaw. He’s pissed off.

Really pissed off.

“Megan?” Callum waves a hand in front of my face and I look back at him.

“I’m sorry – I just saw a friend I’ve been trying to call. It’s kind of important.” I inwardly flinch at my own lie. “Do you mind if I run after him?”

“Um, sure. Not at all.”

“I’m so sorry.” I get up from the table and put a bill down. “Here – toward lunch. I’m sorry.”

I run out of the diner and after Aston, turning the same corner he did to leave the downtown area. I get to the end of the street and sigh. I can’t see him or his car – and I have no idea when I’ll get a chance to explain why he saw me having lunch with some other guy.

Damn Lila and Maddie and their stupid ideas!

I turn. Since I bailed on Callum heading back to campus is my best decision. And texting Aston would probably be a good idea. Damn secrecy.

I’m pulled down an alley and my back presses against cold bricks. Can’t move – someone’s heavy weight holds me back. Gray eyes capture mine before panic sets in.

“Do you make it a habit of sneaking up on girls?” I mutter.

“Only you,” he responds. “But I’ll be honest – I wasn’t expecting to come downtown and find you having fucking lunch with another goddamn guy.”

“Aston–”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pissed, but then we’re not exactly exclusive so I guess–”

“Lila set it up,” I blurt out, silencing him. “She’s going all Austen’s
Emma
on me. She has this crazy idea that I need a boyfriend and is setting me up with guys she thinks Braden will be okay with. I can’t refuse or she’ll know something is up. I just turn up, talk, and that’s it. I don’t even give them my number. It’s all fake.”

“Fake?”

“Uh-huh. I just go so she doesn’t get on my case about it. Besides, if it was a real date I wouldn’t have left him there to come running here after you, would I?”

His body relaxes, tightness leaving his muscles, and he pulls me from the wall into his body. He presses my face into his neck. The way his arm is wound tightly around my body lets me know he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t want to lose me.

And this wasn’t anger. This was fear – of that exact thing happening.

I wrap my arms around his waist, holding him tightly.

“I don’t know why I thought …” he trails off. “I’m such a fucking dick. I’m sorry, Megs.”

“It’s okay.” I kiss his neck softly. “I probably would have thought the same if it was the other way around.”

“No, baby, it’s not fucking okay. I can’t accuse you of that shit just because of my own issues–”

“You didn’t accuse me of anything.” I pull back, looking into his eyes. “If it was the other way around, I probably would have gone in there and ripped out her extensions.”

He smirks. “I don’t know how I didn’t go in there and knock him out.”

I run my fingertips across his back. “I don’t know how you did it either. I hate even seeing other girls look at you,” I say quietly.

“If Braden was anyone other than my best friend …” He shakes his head. “I’d tell him, but it ain’t that damn easy.” He sighs heavily. “I guess we’re just gonna have to deal with Lila’s bullshit plan and get on with it.”

“But what if it’s obvious? That there’s a bigger reason I’m turning them down?”

“Then we cross that bridge together when we get there.”

“There’s only so many guys that can’t be my type.”

“Listen here.” He turns my face so it’s against his, our noses brushing. “There’s only one fucking guy you need to worry about being your type, so every other dick can take a running jump off a cliff. In case you need reminding of that, baby, here’s your reminder.”

His lips crash into mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth possessively. He runs it along the length of mine forcefully, his hands pulling me ever closer to him. My own slide up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, and I let him claim me. I know this is what he needs, and the deepness of his kiss that tugs on my lower stomach muscles proves me right.

“I think I’m good on the reminder,” I whisper as he pulls away, pressing our cheeks together. “But any time you feel the need to remind me fully …”

His fingers dig into my back. “Any time I feel the need to remind you fully …” He turns his face, his lips barely touching my ear. “It’ll be a reminder you’ll never fucking forget.”

Seeing her with another guy – no matter how innocent or friendly it was – put a part of my brain into overdrive that’s only ever roared to life for me. The need to grab her arm, drag her out of that diner, and pin her against the wall while I kissed her senseless almost took over. The need to protect her from every other ass in this town, hell, in the state, was almost our undoing.

It’s something no one would understand. For the first time in my life I’ve started to let someone in, let them
be
there, all while taking what they have to offer. And that’s the problem. I’m taking from Megs but I’m not giving back to her – I’m not giving her what she deserves, yet, somehow, she knows exactly what I seem to need. All the time.

For the first time in my life I’ve let myself feel something other than the things that fuck up my mind. I’ve let her in. The one girl I knew could undo me with a simple smile or one glance into those little blue eyes – and she does. Every single time, she undoes me like she’s tugging on a loose string of a hand-knitted blanket, and all I can do is unravel in front of her.

The craziest thing is that I want to unravel. I want to tell her everything she wants to know. I want to tell her why I’m a fucked up mix of hot and cold toward her, why I pull her into me and then push her away. But telling her … Telling her might just push it over the edge.

Telling her could push her away and make me permanently cold.

Telling her would mean accepting. Reliving. Remembering.
Feeling.

Apart from Gramps, she is the only person I’ve ever felt something for. She’s the only person I’ve wanted to feel for, and what I feel is spiraling out of my control. It’s growing along with my need for her, which is way stronger than it should be, way more addicting than it should be.

Because that’s what she is. She’s addicting. The vanilla smell of her hair, the light in her eyes, the brightness of her smile, the soft skin of her hand; every part of her is addicting to me.

And even more than that … She sees me. She doesn’t see the jackass who fucks everything with a pulse, or the cocky, arrogant bastard who cares about no one other than himself. Or maybe she does see that – she just sees what’s under it, too. She sees the real me, the one that no one else ever bothered to see.

She sees the broken. She sees the mismatched. She sees the fucked up.

And pretty soon, she’s gonna grab hold of that fucked up and pull it out of me in a gut wrenching conversation.

~

“It’s not working,” Megan’s voice echoes down the hall. “Make her stop with her stupid dates.”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Maddie replies. “You know what she’s like. She thinks she’s damn cupid or something.”

“One success – a third of success – with you and Braden doesn’t make her cupid! It doesn’t make me cupid, either. Shit. Has she ever thought maybe I’m happy as I am?”

“You’ll have to ask her. I just yes or no to the guys, Megs. Seriously, you should see some of the dicks she had lined up. It would have been like walking into a strip club – just without the sexy.”

“Ughghghghgh.” Megan bangs her head on the table as I walk into the kitchen, grinning.

“What’s up? Being forced on dates such a hard life?” I smirk as she lifts her head.

“How would you know?” she throws back at me. “I wasn’t even aware you got your ‘date’s’ name before you ripped her panties off her.”

“Touché,” Maddie mutters.

“Oh, I do, sometimes. But that’s usually all I get.” I shrug and lean against the counter. “Better to be nameless and get fucked than forced onto dates with a bunch of pretty boys.”

“Oh, because you’re not counted in the pretty boy category? How long did it take you to do your hair this morning?” She raises an eyebrow. “Probably longer than it took half my dorm combined, Mr. Maybelline.”

“I could probably make you come quicker than I could do my hair,” I respond, watching her cheeks flush slightly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m a fucking pretty boy.”

“Let me guess – it makes you a sexy boy?”

I grin. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I never said I thought so, asshole. It was a question, not a statement. Still learning the difference?”

I move to the table, leaning across it toward her. “No, but with your sass, it looks like you could do with a lesson learning the difference between a slapped ass and a spanked ass. Want a teacher, Megs?”

Her mouth drops open, and I fight the urge to lean even closer to her and make her close it. I see Maddie smirk, amused, out the corner of my eye, and let my own lips curve into a smirk.

“If I ever feel the need to be taught a slightly kinky side of sex,” Megan says in a lower voice and leans forward slightly, pushing her boobs together. She’s pushing this right to the fucking limit. “Then I’d find a teacher who could play my body like a guitar, strumming all the right strings at the right times, not a horny college boy just looking to get off.”

“How do you know I’m not the guitar player?”

“How do you know you are?” she challenges, sitting back and letting her mouth curve upwards.

“It takes me ten minutes to do my hair. I could make you come in half that,” I threaten and promise her, my eyes still fixed on hers. “If you can find a damn guitar player that can do that, then I’ll salute you, Miss Harper. Until then, you can imagine
my
fingers plucking your body like the strings of a guitar.”

I scoop an apple up from the bowl in between us and take a bite, winking at her as I leave the kitchen.

“Pig!” she yells after me. I hear Maddie’s quiet laughter, and grin to myself. Sometimes, being known as an asshole who likes to get into girls’ pants is a good thing – and in a situation like that when she’s turning me the fuck on, it’s definitely a good thing.

I rest against the wall outside the frat house, finish the apple, and throw the core in the bin. I spy Braden stretching round the side of the house and jog over to him.

“Ready to run?”

He looks up, grabbing two water bottles. “I thought your lazy ass was still in bed.”

“Yeah it was, but pissing Megan off was so much more fun.” I shrug, grin, and take off with him behind me.

“I dunno why you do it, man. One of these days she will hand your balls to you.” He shakes his head.

“She’s too irrational for that. She gets pissed off way too easily to even consider ripping my balls off.”

“Yeah – but you’ve heard Kay’s revenge methods, right? I heard her last week seething to Maddie that she wanted to ‘take a butter knife to the underside of that fucking asshat’s balls and put them on the school menu as a special with a side of fish to represent the whore he thought he could fuck right before her.’” He takes a deep breath, and I flinch a little.

“Ouch. Who pissed her off?”

“Dude, I don’t know, and I don’t think I fucking want to.”

“Wait,” I muse. “I thought she was a lesbian?”

“Bisexual,” he corrects me. “She likes both.”

“Oh, man. So none of us are safe from her loud-mouth ass?” I shake my head. “Damn.”

“Right?” he agrees. “So, me and the guys were thinking of heading into San Francisco tomorrow night for the weekend. Maddie and Lila are coming – not sure about Megan, though.”

My muscles instantly tighten, my stomach clenching at the mention of my home city. It’s so close to Berkeley, yet so far away. The six year old Aston that left San Francisco is a completely different person to the nineteen year old Aston living in Berkeley, but that doesn’t mean it’s a place I can even consider going.

“Don’t think so,” I reply, trying to keep my shaking voice even. “I gotta see my Gramps on Sunday. Old coot nearly whacked me with his fucking stick for not showing up that weekend we went to Vegas.”

Braden laughs, taking me at my – very true – word. “Alright, alright. You stay back here like a good little dickhead and fuck some other poor girl.”

“That’s the plan.”

Or it’s not. But he doesn’t need to know the real one.

We stop for a second to drink and catch our breath, and I take my cell from my pocket.

Are you going to SF? I send to Megan.

She replies instantly.
I don’t know. Are you?

No. Don’t go.

Okay. I won’t.

I slip it back into my pocket, looking up into Braden’s curious face. “What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you text anyone. Girl finally get your number out of you?”

I snort. “Don’t be so fucking stupid. If I did that I’d never get any damn peace between them and you and Ryan.”

“True that.” Braden nods, and we start running back in the direction of the frat house to get ready for class.

We change quickly, meeting back outside to head into the main building for English. Maddie and Megan are waiting for us when we get downstairs, and Megan’s tapping her foot impatiently.

“Are you girls ready? Some of us actually want to pass this year,” she says sarcastically.

“Oh, Meggy,” Braden mutters, taking Maddie’s hand. “You could pass this class in a fucking coma. You’ve probably read everything on the semester plan already.”

She slaps the back of his head, and he curses.

“The fuck was that for?”

Maddie slaps his chest with her books. “Language!”

“You sound like my mom,” he mutters.

Megan grins at Maddie, her eyes flicking to Braden. “Just because you’re right about the reading thing doesn’t mean I have to like it. Maybe if you paid a bit more attention to the class you’d pass without looking over my shoulder when we have work due in.”

“Why did I never think of that?” I look at Braden.

“Because you’re apparently a fucking genius in your own right,” he grumbles. “Am I the only stupid one here?”

“Oh, you’re not stupid,” Maddie soothes him. “You’re just a little bit slower than us.”

“You know what, Angel? It’s a really good job I love you.”

“I think so, too.” She smiles. “It means I can say exactly what everyone else is thinking.”

He gives her a look that says she’ll get it later, and she smiles wider.

“Hold up,” Megan pauses, staring at Braden. “Did you just call
Aston
a genius?”

“I did.”

“They’re not words I’d ever expect to hear in the same sentence.”

“Fuck off.” I tug on her hair, and she swats at me.

“I’m not jokin’, Meggy. This kid graduated with a fucking 3.8 GPA.”

Megan looks at me now, her eyebrows raised and surprise in her eyes. “You did?”

I shrug. “One of us assholes has to be smart.”

“No, really? You did?”

She’s not acting here. She’s genuinely surprised, and I don’t know whether or not to be pissed she doesn’t believe me. “Yeah.”

“I can’t believe you have the same GPA as me. You don’t look that smart.” She smirks wickedly, and I know the smile is for Braden and Maddie’s benefit.

I hold the class door open for her, looking down as she pauses in front of me, and my hand brushes her hip. “Not everyone is what they seem, Megan. You should know that by now.”

She looks up at me, her startling blue eyes full of questions I know I have to answer.

“I know that. I just wish those people could trust in the people that care a little.” She sweeps past me to our desk. I bite the inside of my lip and follow after her.

“Maybe it’s not that they don’t trust,” I say. “Maybe it’s that they’ve forgotten how to.”

She straightens her books on the desk, slowly turning her face to me as I sit next to her. “Then maybe they should open their eyes and see that the person they need to trust is right in front of them. Maybe they should open up and share so they don’t have to bear the burden alone.”

“Not everything is made to be shared. Not every scar is on the body. Some scars are on the mind. Some scars can’t be seen. They’re inside, burned in so deeply that they’ll never be healed.”

Her eyes are earnest and soft. “Just because a scar can’t be healed doesn’t mean it can’t be soothed,” she whispers.

Fuck. She’s so right, and this weekend is the perfect time with everyone gone. But am I ready? I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to talk about my childhood, but I don’t have a choice if I want to keep her. If I want to keep this girl in my arms, secret relationship be fucking damned, I have to be honest with her.

I take a deep breath and make a decision I know I’ll regret. A decision that will change everything.

A decision that will change me.

“Sometimes the dark truth is too much for some people,” I warn her.

A decision that will change her.

“Sometimes a light dusting of the truth isn’t enough,” she responds.

A decision that will change us.

“Is the dark really better than the light?”

She nods. “Sometimes. Sometimes you need to get lost in the dark to truly appreciate the light.”