The Game Series (42 page)

“And just how would you do that?”

He tugs me out the door and catches me against his body. “A bit like this.” He grins and presses his lips to mine hotly, capturing me in a kiss that would most definitely revive me if I was dying.

Hell, I think it would revive me if I was freakin’
dead.

“Think that would work?” he mutters, a smug grin on his face.

“Yup,” I mutter back, slightly dazed.

He laughs, keeping his arm locked around my waist, and steers me in the direction of Starbucks. I snuggle into his side, sighing happily. It’s strange to think that a month ago we were constantly bickering, whether it was real or fake, genuine or pretense. Everything has changed so quickly.

We order coffee and take a seat by the window.

“I guess you’ll be going home this weekend. For Thanksgiving?”

I look at him and shrug. “I guess so.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

I’m not.

“I guess it’s the thought of having my mom looking over my shoulder every five minutes. I’ve had freedom for the last three months. Plus we usually do a thing with Braden’s family, but he won’t be there this year.” I stir my coffee. “I’m pretty sure it’s gonna suck without him.”

“He isn’t going home?”

I shake my head. “He’s taking Maddie back to Brooklyn. She doesn’t know yet. She thinks they’re going to his parents’.”

Aston smirks. “He’s sneaky.”

“He always has been.” I smile. “But his sneakiness means I have to suffer through dinner alone.” I sigh. Nothing is more tiring than the manners my mother insists on.

“Sounds like fun.”

“You could always come suffer with me, you know,” I offer. “Mom would love that.” Once I’ve told her about us.

“I dunno.” He pauses, taking my hand. “I don’t wanna leave Gramps alone.”

“You don’t have to. My nan will be there, and she’s about as normal as a straight-sided circle. They’d get along like a house on fire. She’d probably talk him into going to Bingo with her on the Friday night.
And
she smokes like a train.” I roll my eyes.

“Perfect match,” he says dryly. “And your Granddad?”

“He died in the Vietnam War. He was in the air force and got shot down. I never knew him so it’s kinda hard to be sad about it. My other grandparents – Dad’s parents – moved to Canada when they retired.”

“Canada?” Aston raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that kind of an odd place to retire to?” A small smile creeps onto his face.

“Yes … But I never said they were normal.” I grin. “I thought they might have gone to, oh, I dunno, the Bahamas or something. Even moved from Colorado to Cali to be closer to Dad since he moved here to be with Mom after college, but nope. They went to freaking Canada, and we’re expected to pack up and go there every winter.” I shiver. “It’s so damn cold in Canada.”

“You really are a Cali princess.” He laughs.

“So I grew up in SoCal. Don’t shoot me for liking the sun.”

“You definitely grew up on the right side of California.”

“That’s why you and your Gramps should come with. He can go into cahoots with Nan and cause trouble, Mom can entertain the way she loves so much, and me and you can disappear the whole weekend.” I shrug. “Sounds good to me.”

“I dunno. I’ll have to talk to Gramps.”

“What would you normally do?”

“Uh …” Aston scratches the back of his neck, and my lips twitch in amusement. “Eat take-out, watch crap television, and drink beer.”

Typical guys. I giggle. “Okay, you’re definitely coming with me.”

~

“That was traumatic.” I drop onto the sofa next to Braden, shaking my head. He grins, and I know exactly what he’s about to say.

“She took it well, then?”

“You could say that,” I deadpan. “‘You have a
boyfriend
? A real boyfriend? Oh, Megan, that’s wonderful! Although, I do hope you’re using protection. We’ve had this discussion before, and you need an education, house, and job before you get yourself pregnant.’” I shake my head as if it’ll clear the headache brought on by my mom’s speech.

“She just cares.”

“Oh, I know. I love that she cares so much, but there’s really no need to bring it up in every conversation we have. We only spoke ten or so days ago. I’m not that forgetful.”

“She means well.”

“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Then why can’t you stop laughing?”

He shrugs and tries to stop. “I’m sorry, Meggy. I’m just secretly wishing I could see this meet the parents episode.”

“Oh, it’s meet the grandparents, too. Not doing anything by half.”

“Start as you mean to go on.” He grins. “Oh, man. I’m gonna have to call Mom three time a day for updates. How much are we betting your mom sits Aston down and gives him the pregnancy chat?”

My eyes widen and I look at him in panic. “She wouldn’t.”

Braden grins widely, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Oh, I can almost guarantee she will.”

I grab a pillow, bury my face into it, and groan. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“This is going to be a disaster,” Megan mutters, pulling onto a street with houses worth more than I could ever dream of making. Most are three-story buildings, all with driveways, garages and perfectly pruned front yards.

I fidget in my seat. A small voice in the back of my mind whispers about the differences in our lives. It reminds me how different it is here compared to where I started life in San Francisco. I glance at Megan and tell the voice to fuck off.

My past doesn’t define who I am. The here and now does.

Gramps whistles low. “What, you got a pool and all?”

“Hope you brought your swimming trunks,” she comments in a chipper voice.

“Good job I did, then.” Gramps pats his stomach. “Love a good swim.”

She turns the car onto a driveway leading to one of the three-story houses. The drive is lined by circular bushes and winter flowers. I look up at the house. Painted white, it looks like something out of a movie.

You know … The ones where the rich, unattainable person always lives.

You’re not worth anything.
I clench my jaw and push the voice away. I won’t let it ruin this weekend for Megan.

Megan hops out of the car. The front door opens, revealing a woman that could be Megan in twenty years’ time. Looking at her mom’s blonde hair, slender figure and bright smile, it’s easy to see exactly why Megan is so damn beautiful.

Gramps whistles again. “That’s one hot momma,” he whispers to me, chuckling.

I roll my eyes and step from the car, turning to help him out. He waves me off, and I roll my eyes again. Damn stubborn man.

He brushes his hands off on his legs. “I’m going to meet me some beautiful ladies.” He hobbles up the drive on his stick, approaching Megan and her mom, and promptly introduces himself. I smirk when he leans forward to kiss Megan’s mom on the cheek, taking her totally by surprise. She laughs, and Megan turns to me, smiling.

My stomach jolts, and I repeat my mantra in my mind. My past does not define me. My past does not define me.

“Mom, this is Aston. Aston, this is my mom, Gloria,” Megan introduces us.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Aston.” Gloria’s eyes twinkle with genuine happiness. She holds her hand out, and I take it, kissing her fingers.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

She beams, leaning into Megan. “And he’s polite! I like him already.”

Gramps winks at me, and I stifle my grin as Gloria leads us into the house. Megan slips her hand inside mine, and I squeeze it lightly.

“Roger?” Gloria calls. “Where are you?”

“In the yard, darling,” a deep voice calls back.

“He’s getting the grill fired up,” she explains, leading us into the house.

It looks nothing like I expected it to. In my mind it was immaculate and filled with expensive trinkets, but it’s not. The walls are adorned with certificates with Megan’s name on – from swimming to horse riding, pictures of her and Braden and family photos. My eyes flick from one image to another, drinking them in.

“You were a really cute kid,” I murmur as we pass a photo of Megan with her hair in pigtails, grinning at the camera with a tooth missing.

“Shut up,” she mutters back. I grin.

The back yard is about the size of Gramps’ house. He whistles again, and I resist the urge to join him. We step onto the decking that houses the grill, a large table and chairs, and a few random plants. A pool house is at the far end next to a fair sized pool.

And you could still get another house in the free space.

I knew Braden and Megan came from money, but holy fucking shit.

“Megs!” The man at the grill calls, turning around.

“Dad,” Megan groans, and I see why. His apron is that of a naked guy’s – sporting a six pack and burger bun over the space where his privates should be. I chuckle.

“What?” he says innocently.

“You had to wear that apron, didn’t you? Remember? Guests?” she implores desperately.

He looks at me and Gramps. “Too late now, darling daughter. They’ve already seen it!”

“And I’ve got a real one!” Gramps laughs throatily, patting his rounded stomach. He steps forward and introduces himself to Megan’s dad.

Megan sighs and rests her forehead against my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head.

“And this must be the boy that stole my girl’s heart.” Her dad turns to me, smiling widely.

“Yes, sir.” I wink at Megan. She’s giving her dad the death stare.

“Roger,” he introduces himself, shaking my free hand. “Sure is nice to meet you, Son. If she ever had a boyfriend in high school, we never got to meet him. Braden scared him off before we even got close.”

“
Dad!
” Megan gasps. “What are you talking about?”

“The fact you never brought me some eye candy home from school,” a smoky voice rasps from the kitchen. “About time you did. He has a nice behind. Is his front that nice?”

“Mother,” Gloria warns.

I raise an eyebrow at Megan, and her mouth drops open. A slight flush rises on her cheeks, and we both turn to look at the old woman sweeping out of the house onto the decking.

“What? I was talking about the fine gentleman sitting at the table over here.” She takes a seat opposite Gramps and runs her eyes across me. “Although, good choice, Megan. He’s a pretty one.”

“And he has brains.” Megan shrugs.

“Go off to college and you get picky. Mind you …” Her nan grins. “I’d be picky too, if he was on offer.”

“And he got them looks and brains from somewhere,” Gramps butts in.

“And it was clearly you.” Her nan beams at him. They strike up a conversation, and I smile. Bringing him here was a good idea.

“So you really never had a boyfriend in high school?” I tease Megan.

She opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again.

“Not one she brought home,” Gloria explains. “Braden definitely scared them off, so imagine my shock when she told me about you! I thought you were definitely going to show up with a broken arm or a black eye.”

“A broken arm?” Roger exclaims, poking the coal. “I expected him to show up in a wheelchair. Maybe that girl is good for Braden.”

“Maddie,” Megan corrects. “Not ‘that girl’, Dad. Her name is Maddie.”

“That’s it. I knew it was an ‘M’ name, I just couldn’t think of it.” He waves her off.

“Perhaps.” Gloria smiles. “Megan, why don’t you go and show Aston around? It looks as though his grandfather is occupied for the moment.” She leans forward. “I made the spare rooms up because I didn’t know what you were doing,” she whispers. “If you want to share, you go ahead. You’re adults, after all, but just use–”

“Yes, thank you, Mom,” Megan rushes out. “Understood.”

She tugs on my hand, pulling me away from the decking and her father’s laughter. I smirk to myself.

“Good grief,” she says when we’re inside. “That went kinda well, I guess.”

“Hey – your parents embarrassed you, and your Nan eyed me up. I’d say it went pretty well!”

She pauses. “I guess that’s kinda standard.”

“I dunno. I’ve never met the parents before.”

She pauses halfway up the stairs, tilting her head and looking at me. “Really?”

“Yeah. You sound surprised.”

“I kinda am.”

“Why? You know I’ve never really dated anyone before. It’s always just been casual.”

She starts walking again. “So … This is serious?” I catch the teasing lilt in her voice.

“I’m toying with the idea of it …”

She grins, and I pull her close at the top of the stairs. “Yes?” She bats her eyelashes as she looks up at me.

I smile. “Was there ever any doubt this was serious?”

“No,” she answers, kissing me. “Not really.”

“Not really?” I raise an eyebrow.

“No,” she corrects, pulling me toward a door. “Love you.”

Her words send warmth through my body, silencing the constant whisper in the back of my mind.

“Love you,” I whisper, kissing her nose.

“My room.” She opens the door behind her, and I follow her in.

Woah.

Stuffed toys sit on the dresser, the white rug on the floor is fluffy as hell, and the walls are painted a light purple. Two doors to the right lead to what I assume is an en-suite and walk-in closet, and fairy lights hang above her bed.

“I’m pretty sure this is the most girly room I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“And how many girls’ rooms have you seen, exactly?” She quirks her eyebrows.

“One. This one.”

“Then your statement is ridiculous.” She laughs.

“I’m sleeping in here?” I eye up the stuffed toys.

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m not saying I don’t want to. I do.” I point to the stuffed toys. “But they’re gonna have to be turned around. I’m really not into being perved on by damn stuffed bears.”

Her blue eyes twinkle and she rests against the wall. “There’s nothing wrong with my stuffed bears.”

“There’s nothing right with them, baby.”

“Are you making me choose between you and my bears?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“I can see this being an issue, Mr. Banks.”

“Is that so, Miss Harper?” I step toward her, pulling her to me. My fingers thread through her hair, tilting her head back, and I brush my lips across hers. “Can your stuffed bears do this?” I run my nose along her jaw, my lips peppering kisses down her neck, sucking lightly on her pulse point. Her breath catches. “Or this?” I slide my hand down her back to cup her ass and pull her hips against mine. My erection throbs lightly against her, growing as she grinds slightly. “Or this?” I bend my head and swirl my tongue across the swell of her breasts, teasing her by dipping it along the cup of her bra.

“No,” she breathes out. “No. They can’t do that.”

I nibble my way up to her ear, resting my lips against it. “So what was the issue?” I whisper.

“Issue? Who said anything about an issue?” She puts her fingers in my hair and tugs my head back. “No issues here.”

My lips twitch. “So the bears get turned round?”

She nods. “Hell, if there’s more of that …” Her body pushes right against mine, aligning perfectly. “They can live in the pool for all I care.”

“Oh, there’s plenty more where that came from, and it’s all yours.”

~

Megan runs her hand down my body, her fingers tracing the defining lines of the muscle. I sigh deeply, pulling her closer to me, and breathe in the vanilla scent of her hair. No matter where she’s been or what she’s done, she always smells like vanilla.

“What are we doing today?” I ask, my fingertips following the curve of her spine right to her ass.

She shudders. “I thought we could go riding.”

“I get the feeling we’re not talking about bedroom riding.”

She looks up at me, her hair messy, and smiles. “No. Horse riding. I don’t go at college and I miss it.”

“I’ve never ridden a horse.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“Um.”

“You taught me to fish,” she reminds me. “You made me fish!”

“I guess there’s no way around this, huh?”

She shakes her head, rolling on top of me. Her knees go either side of my hips, trapping me, and her hair falls around my face. She slowly lowers her face to mine, sucking my bottom lip into her mouth and grazing her teeth across it. I slide my hands along her thighs, my thumbs coming dangerously close to the naked area of warmth between her legs.

“No way around it at all,” she whispers.

“Really? You can’t ride me instead?”

“I …” she stops as I flick my thumb across her clit gently, making her thighs tighten. “I’m sure.”

She grabs my hands and moves them away.

“Is it gonna be one of those days?” I sigh.

She goes to her dresser, and slides on a pair of white lace panties and matching bra. My eyes follow her every movement as she walks into her closet soundlessly. I sit up and reaching forward to grab some clean boxers from my bag. Reaching forward very fucking uncomfortably thanks to the hardness of my dick. I shove them on as Megan reappears wearing riding pants and a white shirt.

“Fuck.”

She might as well be naked the way those pants cling to her hips. They’re molded to her body like a second skin.

“I have to watch you ride a horse wearing those pants?” I clarify, half hoping she’ll be putting a baggier pair over them.

She ties her hair into a messy bun on top of her head and turns to me, her pink lips curved in a smile. “Yep.”

I stand up and pull my own pants on. “Please tell me it’s easy to ride a horse with a hard on.”

She covers her mouth with her hand and lets out a loud laugh, her eyes flicking to my dick. “I’ve never, um, tried it. Not personally.”