The Love Game (11 page)

“You two.” I look between them. “Are driving me fucking crazy.”

“What?”

“This challenge. Do you know how hard it is to have that hot piece of ass rubbing up against me, knowing I can't drag her off to fuck her?” I resist the urge to slam my fist into the wall.

Ryan smirks. “You agreed, bro. I was only kidding, but then you agreed. You can't back out now. She's wrapped around your little finger.”

“Yeah, and that's the problem.” I look at him pointedly. “I don't want her wrapped around my little finger. I want her wrapped round my fucking dick.”

“So just drag her off to bed,” Aston suggests. “You two were getting' pretty cozy last night, if you get what I mean.”

“It hasn't even been two weeks, man.” I shake my head. “I can't even consider that until next week. She's attracted to me, and she's falling, but she's not fallen. She won't do it until she's full on in love with me. It doesn't help that girls I can't even remember keep coming up and asking me for another go.”

Both guys burst out laughing.

“Dude, you're joking, right?” Aston leans against the wall.

“I fuckin' wish.” I rub my forehead. “It's like, they see me with my fake girlfriend and all of a sudden I'm the sexiest thing on this damn campus.”

“I bet that isn't going down well,” Ryan muses. “With Maddie, that is. I bet you're loving it.”

“Actually, I fuckin' hate it.”

“You're joking? You actually hate it?”

“It's about as enjoyable as a hole in the head. That's how much I hate it. It doesn't help with the trust thing at all – especially since I can't remember them.”

Aston chuckles. “Send 'em my way next time. There's always space in my bed.”

“I'm sure there is,” I reply dryly. “What do I do about Maddie, though? She's driving me mad. She's like a walking sex advert to my brain.”

“Fuck her,” Ryan says simply. “You fuck her, get her out of your system. Just sooner than you already planned.”

~

Meggy's blonde hair bounces as she sits on my bed. “So, you and Maddie.”

“What about us?” I glance at her.

“You look pretty into her.”

Do I? “That's 'cause I am, Meggy.”

“Really, Bray? Because I know how well you can act. You can't hide anything from me.”

And that's the fucking problem. “I'm not acting. I like her.”

“Or do you like the sex you could get out of it?”

Seriously? “Meggy.”

“Bray.”

I look at her, and she raises her eyebrows. “I like her, I do. I mean, what's not to like?”

She leans back against the wall and crosses her arms across her chest. Her eyes bore into me, and I squirm slightly under her intense scrutiny. Shit. Why can she do this to me?
How
does she do it?

“I love you, Bray. You're like my brother, but if you're fucking her about, I will castrate you and hang your balls as a wind chime in the frat house front room window.” Ouch. I wince.

“I'm not fucking her around.” Much.

“Braden William Carter,” she snaps. “I mean it. I can read you like a book, and what you say and what you mean are two different things. But y'know what? What you mean and what you think are two different things, too.”

“Please, Meggy,” I say sarcastically. “Enlighten me on what I say, what I mean, and what I think.”

“What you say is that you want to be with her. What you mean is you want to sleep with her, and what you think is letting yourself feel for her what you do, in your heart, means you're a pussy.”

“What do you mean, letting myself feel something for her? I just admitted I like her.”

“Yes, Braden,” she says wryly. “But that's not what you mean. I'm not stupid. You're on some kick here with Maddie, and while it's not my business, I care about both of you. Unless you pull your brain from your dick, you're gonna end up hurt. Both of you will. Sex isn't everything.”

“I'm not in it for the sex.” I hate lying to her, but it has to be done.

“I call bullshit on that and every other lame-ass excuse you have stored in your brain, whichever part of your body it's currently residing in.” She jumps off the bed, crosses the room, and jabs a finger in my chest. “You, need to stop thinking you're the next Hugh Hefner and start thinking about how you actually feel. Your friends don't control you, Bray.”

“You just say that 'cause you think they're assholes.” I smirk.

“That's because they
are
assholes. Don't let them make you think that you should spend the next four years of your life at this college fucking everything with a pulse, because while you're busy getting it on, your future could be right in your line of sight. And y'know what else? Unless you open your eyes, you'll miss your future. She'll come and go so fast you'll blink, and you'll miss it.” She exhales and moves to the door. “Decide if Maddie is something with a pulse, or something more than that. She's been through too much to deal with your man-whore bullshit. Sit back and ask
yourself
what she is, not Tweedledick one and Tweedledick two.” She yanks the door open and slams it behind her.

“Fuck off,” I mutter, grabbing a pillow from the bed and chucking it at the closed door. “Fucking future. Bullshit.”

I'm almost nineteen. Who the fuck finds their future at this age?

I've checked my cell obsessively since Monday. It's Wednesday, and I haven't heard a thing from Pearce. If he was telling the truth, a week from now I'll be looking into his pitiful eyes.

And that scares me.

I don't want him here, and there's only so much longer I can pretend and not tell the girls exactly what's happening. I don't want to keep it from them, but there isn't much I can do. If he isn't coming, then there's no need to tell them the gritty details of my life in Brooklyn. If he does come... Then it might be too late.

I hate not knowing. I hate the uncertainty that encompasses my brother in a thick cloud. Nothing with him is ever definite, except drugs. But then again, when is anything with anyone ever definite? It's not. Not ever.

I swallow my sigh, tapping my pen against the table. I glance at the clock for the thousandth time in ten minutes. The second hand is moving at a snail's pace, zero point zero miles per hour, it seems.

For the first time in my life, I actually want to see Braden. When he's around I have something to focus on, the challenge, the game. The need to win the game he doesn't even know is being played takes over.

But, does that compare me to my brother? Playing someone for your own satisfaction?

No. No, it's different. Meggy said the plan is for Braden, to make him a better person. I don't get satisfaction from it. Just frustration.

But it's still two lives merging into one. I'm sitting here, in class, the bad girl from Brooklyn, yet when I walk out of the door and see him, I'll be the California college good girl.

Finally the bell rings, and I grab all my stuff, all but running from the classroom. The air in it seems stifling, heavy with the silence from my brother. Every thought I've had in the last ten minutes swarms around in my mind, over and over and over.

I feel dizzy. I can't breathe, too much is creeping up on me. My brother and the events of the last year are creeping up on me from three thousand miles away. I put a hand over my eyes, determined to battle the hallways and get outside to the fresh air, to where I can breathe.

Two arms grab me, and in my panicked state, I scream. I'm pressed against a hard body and I recognize the woody smell. Braden. My hand not holding my books grips his shirt. I need something to ground me. It's an almost desperate move, but I don't care.

“Sssh,” he whispers. “I've got you. You're okay.”

I close my eyes and breathe deeply as he wraps his arms around me tightly. I bury my face into his chest. Grounding. Centering. I remember the breathing from the yoga classes I did in senior year of high school and chant the instructions in my mind, breathing in deeply, breathing out deeply.

The noise around us dies down, and I realize that I have no idea how long I've been standing in Braden's arms.

“Okay, Angel?” he asks softly.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I think so.”

He runs a hand through my hair, his fingers tugging lightly at knots in my curls. “I didn't mean to scare you a minute ago. You looked like you were about to faint.”

“So you thought you'd come riding in like a knight in shining armor?” That thought is amusing.

“Something like that.” He chuckles. “What's up?”

“Oh, nothing,” I dismiss it and pull back, smiling up at him.

“Don't lie to me, Maddie. I can see in your pretty green eyes that something is bothering you.” He runs his thumb down the side of my face. I fight to keep my eyes open. “Talk to me.”

“It's just my brother.” I look down.

“I remember you saying you don't get along.”

“That's an understatement.” I snort. “He mentioned something about coming here.... And I.... I don't want him to. I don't want him to come here.”

“So tell him.”

“It's not like that. You don't just
tell
Pearce things.”

“Then what do you do?”

“It doesn't matter.” My eyes flick up to him and back down again. “It doesn't matter.”

Braden cups my chin, forcing my face upwards, but I keep my eyes trained downwards.

“Maddie, look at me.” I shake my head. “Maddie. Please.”

The tenderness in his voice cuts me and I break, looking back up at him. “What?”

“It does matter, okay?” he says softly. “It always matters.”

“No, it doesn't.”

“Why won't you talk to me?”

Because when you're like this, soft and caring, it's hard to remember that I hate you and this is a game. “I just can't talk about it, Braden.”

He sighs. “Why won't you let me in? Let me help you.”

Because you're the first person outside of the girls to actually care about me and show it since the day she died – and caring isn't good for anyone. Not when everything you think you know is a game.

~

“Why?” I look at the roller-skates in front of me. “Why? Why? Why?”

“I bet Megan thinks she's fucking hilarious,” Lila grumbles, looking at the skates with the same disdain I am.

“Why did we even let her organize this?” I mutter.

“I have no idea, but I'm never doing it again.”

“I am so with you there.”

Not only are they roller-skates, they're pink. Flippin' pink.

I do not do pink.

“Come on, you two!” Ryan skates up to us as if he's been doing it his whole life, which he probably has.

“Uhh.” Lila's still frozen in place, staring at the skates.

“Really, babe.” Ryan skates up to her. “It's not that hard.”

“Damn, Ryan,” she huffs. “How many times do you think I've ever skated in Washington? Really?”

“I kinda figured everyone had at some point.” He looks at me. “Don't tell me – you've never skated either, right, Maddie?”

“That would be correct,” I answer, finally looking up from the skates. “It's not really an 'in' thing in Brooklyn, funnily enough.”

“Damn city girls.” He shakes his head.

“Ah, they aren't that bad.” Braden skates backwards down the sidewalk towards us.

“Fucking show-off,” Lila mutters.

“I heard that, Lila.”

“You were supposed to, Braden.”

He stops in front of me. I look up at him. “What?”

“You've actually never skated before?”

“No.” I fold my arms across my chest. “No. Never.”

“Come on.” He takes my hands. “Put them on and try it. I promise its fun. Just try it, once.”

I look at the skates and back to him. He has a pleading, hopeful look on his face. “Will you stop with the puppy dog eyes?”

“Cross my heart.” He crosses his heart.

I sigh and sit down. “Fine.” I grab the skates and after taking my shoes off, I slip my feet in, only to fumble with the confusing buckles afterward.

Braden sighs and shakes his head. “Come here.” He bends down at the waist and tightens them all for me, snapping them into place.

He grabs my hands, hoisting me up, and I squeak as I roll forwards and straight into him. I put my hands on his chest to steady myself, ignoring the heavy pounding of my heart.

“You're fine.” He smirks, amused.

“Yep,” I reply. “I'm fine.”

“Let's go.” He grins and takes my hand, moving back from me.

I look forward and find Ryan pulling Lila along. Her feet are shoulder-width apart, and her legs are shaking. She looks a bit like a newborn foal trying to walk for the first time, and I giggle silently, knowing I probably look the same.