The Game That Breaks Us (20 page)

He flashes me a lopsided smile. “I take it you missed me? Come back for another kiss?”

I push his shoulder but of course he goes nowhere. “Hardly. I came to warn you.”

“Warn me?” He raises a brow and takes another sip of water.

“My dad saw the photo of us and he’s on his way here.”

I expect Bennett to look scared but instead his grin only grows. “Aw, overprotective daddy? I should’ve known Princess would have one.”

I roll my eyes. “Sometimes I think about killing you just to shut you up.”

He laughs. “You’re funny.”

“I was serious.” I cross my arms over my chest. “My brothers are with him too.”

He chuckles and says, “Okay. We’ll take them out to dinner then.”

“Bennett,” I cry. “How can you be so blasé about this?”

He shrugs and takes another large gulp of water. “Because it’s not a big deal. Your dad getting pissed over a photo is the least of my problems. You’re not even my real girlfriend.”

My jaw drops, and before I can stop myself, I slap him right across his too smug face.

He looks at me, stunned, and I stare back. 

I can’t believe I just did that. It’s not like me at all but Bennett infuriates me more than anyone else can. 

Only seconds pass before I turn and run.

I’m halfway back to my dorm when I realize I left my backpack and books sitting on one of the seats in the stadium.

I halt in my tracks and groan. I feel so incredibly frustrated. I don’t know why I even bothered warning Bennett, because he’s right: this isn’t real so it’s no big deal to him anyway. It
is
a big deal to me, though, and that’s where the problem lies. I don’t like keeping secrets and I definitely don’t like my dad being mad at me, but it’s not Bennett’s problem, it’s mine, and that’s something I have to come to terms with. 

I know I should turn around and go back to get my stuff, but I don’t want to face Bennett again. I
hit
him—and not a little smack, either. I’ve never been a violent person, but something about what he said struck a chord and it
hurt
. I know we’re not a real couple but I did think we were friends and what he said isn’t something you’d say to a friend. 

I decide to go back to the dorm like I’d originally planned. Thankfully, Elle is still gone. I pull back the covers on my bed and burrow myself beneath them, wishing they’d swallow me whole. 

I feel ashamed of myself and I hate that icky feeling. It sucks. 

I don’t know how much time has passed in my burrow of shame when someone bangs on the door. I know instinctively that it’s Bennett even before he shouts, “Grace, let me in.”

“Go away,” I yell back, my voice muffled by the sheets.

“Don’t make me break down this fucking door because I will. Try explaining that one.”

“Ugh.” I throw back the covers and march over to the door, throwing it open.

Bennett’s changed into a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt, my backpack and books in his arms. He comes inside and drops them on my bed.

I close the door and lean my back against it, putting as much distance between the two of us as I can. 

“I pissed you off,” he states. His cheek is tinged red where I slapped him, but the stubble on his cheeks helps camouflage it. Even still, it glares at me.

“Yes,” I reply. “But I still shouldn’t have hit you.” I look down at the pale-pink polish on my toes. 

Suddenly, his sneaker-covered feet appear in my line of vision and then his fingers touch my chin and he lifts my head up so I’m forced to look at him. I know he can see the shame in my eyes. 

“I’m a dick,” he says seriously, no traces of humor in his eyes. “I deserved it. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

I try to step back, but of course, the door’s still behind me so there’s nowhere for me to go to get away from him. “You’re right, though,” I start, pushing his arm down so he’s not touching me anymore—I can’t think straight when he touches me, “I’m not your real girlfriend. I’m nothing to you.” I move around him and to my bed. 

He grabs my arm before I can get too far and keeps me from retreating. “That’s not true, Grace. You’re not nothing. You’re …”

“I’m what?” He licks his lips and his eyes dance over my face. “See, you don’t even know.” I shake my arm from his hold. 

He shakes his head roughly. “I don’t know how to describe it. I’ve never had a girl that’s a friend, but I guess that’s what you are. I like you.”

I sit down on my bed and push my books to the bottom. “You can go now,” I tell him, not even looking at him. “I’ll deal with my dad on my own when he gets here.”

Bennett stands there not saying a word. 

I force my gaze to his and glare. “You can
go
,” I say harshly. He looks at me strangely and stalks forward. “What are you doing?” I ask nervously.

Before I can blink he lifts me up and my legs wrap involuntarily around his waist. He crushes his lips to mine and I startle, not having expected that. I grab onto his shirt to push him away, but instead, I pull him closer. My body doesn’t seem to realize what my mind wants to do. 

This kiss is different from the first because it’s
real
and not for show. I know it shouldn’t be happening, but I’m powerless to stop it. In fact, I’m hungry for more. 

I shouldn’t want to kiss Bennett. 

I shouldn’t like it. 

I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t,
I shouldn’t
.

But I do. 

His tongue tangles with mine and I
moan
, desire pooling in my belly. I’ve liked plenty of guys, but none of them have ever made me tingle all over the way Bennett does. The kiss in the arena was electric but this one makes that one seem like a peck on the lips. This is intense and all-consuming. It makes me feel things—
want
things—that I shouldn’t want with Bennett, of all people. 

He breaks the kiss and I find that my arms have wound around his neck. Our breaths mingle together in the space between us, and his hazel eyes stare into mine with as much confusion as I feel. 

He sets me down easily and keeps a hold on my waist. His teeth dig into his lip and I know he’s warring with himself the same way I am. 

“Grace,” he whispers my name and I hear the pain in his voice.

I lean my head against his chest and breathe out. “I know.”

Grace’s mom ends up talking some sense into her dad and he and her brothers end up heading home before they make it even halfway to campus. 

It’s too late to change what’s happened between us, though. 

I kissed her again, and this time there was no one to witness it so I can’t blame it on our arrangement. This was all me. 

I was a dick to her in the arena because of the first kiss—because of what I felt—and then like the fucking idiot I am, I kissed her again and screwed it up even more. 

I ruin everything. I have to figure out a way to move past this and I think I have.

It involves adding another item to “Bennett’s Guide to Being Bad”.

An item I don’t like at all. 

I hold the door open to the bar and let Grace go in front of me. 

I chose a bar away from campus with a crowd that might not recognize us. I keep my baseball cap low over my face to reduce the chances of someone noticing me. Grace chooses a table in the back and I take the seat across from her. A waitress appears at our table for our drink order. I ask for a beer and Grace sticks with her standard water.

“Mind telling me why we’re here?” she asks, looking around. Her nose wrinkles in distaste. I don’t blame her. This place isn’t exactly the nicest. Thankfully, there are a few college-aged guys around which plays perfectly into my plan.

“I thought we could add something to the guide.” I shrug.

She narrows her eyes. “
Here?
What are you up to?” I give her an innocent look, which she obviously doesn’t buy. “I’d have rather taken you shopping.”

“You can buy me whatever you want, Princess, but I’m not going with you. I don’t shop.”

“I can tell.” She narrows her eyes on my thin long-sleeve shirt. 

I shrug. “It’s just not important to me.”

“Again, I can tell.” She laughs and takes her water when the waitress sets it down.

“Can I get you guys anything to eat?”

“Um, I’ll have the cheeseburger,” Grace says. 

“Same here.” I haven’t even looked at the menu, but a cheeseburger sounds fantastic. 

“That’ll be ready soon.” The waitress smiles and heads off.

“So—” Grace leans forward, the gesture giving me a small glimpse of cleavage when her shirt falls “—tell me why we’re here, Bennett? Don’t beat around the bush.” I calmly lift my beer bottle to my lips and swig it down. “
Bennett
,” she warns, raising one elegant brow.

“Third on ‘Bennett’s Guide to Being Bad’.” I hold up three fingers. “Kiss a stranger.”

Her mouth parts, and she glares at me like she wishes she could kill me with her gaze alone. Then, her eyes glitter with amusement and she shakes her head while laughing softly. She stares at me head on. “I can do that.”

My fists clench beneath the table. It’s what I want. To see her kiss someone else so I’ll be reminded she’s not mine, but I’m not happy about it, and from her calculating gaze, I guess she’s figured that out.

“You’re a real piece of work, Bennett.” She shakes her head, her hair swishing around her shoulders. “Did you think because you kissed me that I’d fallen head over heels in love with you? You’re more conceited than I thought.”

No
, that’s not what I thought, but I did think that
my
feelings were stronger than they should be. I had to find a way to squash them and I figured seeing her kiss someone else would be the best bet.

Grace stands and picks up her purse. “Game on, asshole.”

I turn around just in time to see her tap a guy at the bar on the shoulder. He turns around and looks at her questioningly. Before he can say anything, she takes his face in her hands and kisses him—and I mean she
kisses
him. It’s not a fucking peck on the lips like I expected and I’m pretty damn sure there’s tongue involved. I shouldn’t be pissed, I’m not allowed to be, but I am. I really fucking am.

And then Grace lets the guy go and goes down the line to the other three guys sitting at the bar, kissing them all. I hear the sound of glass shattering and realize I’ve knocked my beer off the table.

Grace kisses the last guy, turns to see me watching, and fucking
bows
with this look on her face like
I’ve got you
, and then leaves.

I sit for a few more seconds before I finally get moving. I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and throw some bills on the table before running out of the bar after her.

I stop when I see she’s not waiting by the car.

I look to my right down the lit-up street, and she’s not there, but when I look to the left I see her heading that way talking on her phone.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath and run after her.

I catch up to her easily and tug on her arm, grabbing the phone from her hand and ending the call.

“Hey!” she screams, trying to snatch the phone from my hand. “I was calling a cab.”