The Love Game (24 page)

“Nice to know coffee makes you feel good on a morning,” Braden mutters.

“If you'd been there when I woke up this morning, you could have been the feel good,” I mutter back, silently laughing to myself.

His step falters, and I bite my lip, amused.

“Did you just say that?”

I look up at him wide-eyed and blink twice. “Well it wasn't the barista that said it.”

“One weekend of hot sex and you've turned into an animal,” he whispers in my ear.

“Not quite.” I giggle. “I was merely making a statement.”

“Maybe tomorrow morning?” he asks hopefully.

“Maybe.” I laugh.

As he orders our coffees, I ignore the barista's evil looks in my direction and curl in closer to Braden. His arm tightens around my waist, and he carries the tray she gives him in one hand. Ignoring her flirty glances, he leads me over to the plush sofas we were sitting on last week, laying the tray on the table and dropping us both onto the sofa.

“Sofa this week,” he mutters.

I laugh and swing my legs over his, resting my head against his shoulder. He passes me my cup, and I wrap my hands around it, sipping it slightly. “That's better.” I sigh, feeling the warmth from the hot drink slipping down my throat.

“So
....” Braden begins after a few moments, resting his hand on my thigh. “Have you, er, heard from your brother?”

“No,” I say softly. “Not a thing. I spoke to Dad when we got back yesterday night, and he hasn't seen him since he left Brooklyn to come here. I
... I think I want to care, but I don't know if I can. Does that make me a terrible person?”

“No, Angel, God no.” His lips brush my forehead. “He put you through a lot, and sometimes, family or not, you have to say goodbye to people.”

“I hate it because we used to be so close. I remember helping Mom in the garden. Granted, Pearce was more of a hindrance than a help, but it was something that happened every year. We'd all go swimming once a week at the local pool, dinner... Then after what happened, it all kind of.... disappeared.”

“It's okay to miss him.”

“I don't know if I do. I don't know if I miss him or if I miss the memories. Maybe it's just the person he
used
to be that I miss.” I look at a spot on the wall. “I don't know who he is anymore. Maybe that's why a part of me finds it hard to care. I guess I lost my brother the same day I lost my Mom and most of my Dad.”

I sigh and rest my coffee on my legs. Letting it out feels good. I know I have to let go. I know, after three years, if I ever want to move on with my life I have to put it all behind me as best as I can. Mom will always be in my heart, but as long as I hold my brother there too, I'll never move on. I'll never live.

“The thing with memories is, they never die. You can keep them and relive them, and that's okay because they're the happy ones,” Braden muses. “Like the ones we make. Just replace the bad memories with ours.”

I smile and lean my head back up to look at him. “I'll try to do that.”

“And while you're trying, we'll make even more.” He smiles back.

It's strange to have someone understand you.

In approximately two days, this relationship should be over.

But it won't be. I can't see myself letting her go now.

Ever since we returned from Vegas, we've been together almost constantly. It's as if me realizing I'm in love with her has changed everything.

She's changed, too, though. She laughs more now. She smiles more. Maddie has a little light in her eyes that wasn't there before.

She presses a soft kiss to my lips, and I circle her waist with my arms, pulling her in closer to me. She squeals a little and puts her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. Her fingers dig in, and it makes me pull her closer. Her knees bend, and I open my legs so she can rest them on the chair. She does, and I slide my hands down to her hips.

“Can I help you?” I pull back slightly and smile at her. Her eyes flutter open, and she nods, pulling the corner of her top lip into her mouth. “What is it, Angel?”

“
Let’s dance." She straightens, taking my hands from her hips and linking our fingers.

“I don't dance,” I protest lamely, trailing behind her.

She flashes me a coy look over her shoulder. “You do now.”

“Really, I don't.”

She pulls me into the throng of grinding bodies and drops my hand. Her fingers hook into the waistband of my jeans. My dick twitches. She yanks me towards her, right up against her. Her boobs press against my chest, and she looks up into my eyes slowly. It's a seductive move that would be wrong on anyone but her.

Her lips curl upwards slightly. “Really, Bray. You do dance.”

She trails her hand round my body, her fingertips brushing the skin beneath my shirt. Her hand comes to rest on my back, the other up on my shoulder. She looks at me expectantly.

Slowly, I trail a finger along her arm to her shoulder. I let my hand fall down her back to cup her hip. The other follows the same pattern but instead of her hip, I cup her ass. I pull her even closer to me and breathe into her hair. My head ducks until my lips brush her ear.

“Okay, Maddie. I dance,” I say. “Only for you, though.”

Her hips begin to sway with the beat of the music. They move side-to-side and her breath is heavy on my neck. Her whole body rubs against me, and when her hips grind against mine, I hold her in place against me. My rock solid dick presses into her hip and stomach. Her breath catches. Her hand moves to my hair, and she fans her fingers in it, holding me to her.

She moves again, and her leg rubs my thigh. I move my hand from her ass and grip her thigh, guiding it to hook around my hip. She lets me. I reposition myself so I press against the center of her pelvis and she gasps. I encourage her to move again, to the beat of the music.

She does. Shy Maddie has gone, and in her place is a Maddie I didn't know existed. As her hips writhe against me, I clench my teeth. I want to push everyone out the way, hold her against the wall and fuck her.
Hard.

Her breathing quickens against my neck, and her leg clenches.

“Braden,” she whimpers. “No....”

“Yes.” I kiss her neck, cupping her ass with both hands. I move my hips against her, and she whimpers again, burying her face in my neck.

“Come on, Angel,” I whisper against her skin. “Let go.”

She does.

I lean back and capture her lips with mine as her body tenses all over. She quivers in my arms and I swallow her cry, sweeping my tongue through her mouth.

“Upstairs,” I mutter. “Fucking now.”

I pull her through the crowd on shaky legs. Need for this girl is overtaking me and I'm pretty damn sure I can't hear a thing apart from the pounding of my own heart.

I press her against my bedroom door and kiss her deeply. She winds her hands into my hair as I feel blindly for the handle. She slips her hand into the front pocket of my jeans, brushing my dick, and extracts the key. I take it from her and pull away for a second to put it in. I turn the key, pull it out, and turn the handle.

My lips meet Maddie's again greedily as she walks backwards through the door. I push the door shut, and her hands have moved down. She rips my top over my head. I grab the hem of her dress - thanking her silently for wearing one - and pull it off her. She pops open the button of my jeans and falls backwards to the bed. I barely stop to pull my clothes off.

Absently, I open the drawer, grab a condom, roll it on, and peel Maddie's underwear away from her. I lean over her, and she opens her legs, instantly wrapping them around my waist. She reaches out and positions me, her hips off the bed.

I move into her in one swift movement, hissing at how slick and wet she is from her orgasm downstairs. She wraps her legs tighter around me, and her hips meet me thrust for thrust. She scratches at my back as hers arches into me.

She tightens and relaxes around me as we move hard and fast. Sweat slicks our bodies. She digs her fingernails into my skin to keep hold of me as she begins to cry out. I clench my teeth, and she screams out my name. I move again, faster. I grunt out her name and collapse on top of her, absolutely exhausted.

Her heart pounds against her chest, against my chest. I lift my head and kiss her slowly.

“Okay?”

“Mmhmm,” she replies in a sleepy voice. She smiles slightly and shuts her eyes again.

I chuckle and pull out of her, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash. “C'mere.”

I pull the covers back, and she scuttles under them. I climb over her and pull the covers over us, pulling her into my arms, both of us oblivious to the music pumping downstairs.

“Bray?”

“What, Angel?” I run my fingers through her hair.

“I
.... Never mind.” She shakes her head and curls into me. I sigh and kiss her temple, holding her tighter.

Yeah,
I think.
I love you, too.

~

I wake to the smell of coffee and hair tickling my face. I open my eyes and look straight into Maddie's grinning face. She's straddling me, fully clothed and looking fresher than possible.

“Good morning!” she chirps, leaning forward and pressing her lips to mine.

“Mm,” I mumble, my hands sliding up her thighs. “Can we wake up this way every day? Maybe a little less material, though?”

She laughs and rolls to the side, flopping onto the mattress. She grabs a take-out cup from the nightstand, and rolls back, resting it on my stomach. “For you.”

“You're very happy this morning,” I say, studying her. “Not that I mind.”

She grins again. “Dad called early – I think he forgets the time difference sometimes – and told me about his doctor's appointment on Friday. Doc changed his medication again. Dad's not happy but they should help him more, give him more of a drive to do things, so I'm happy. I think that when he's used to it he'll be happier.”

“That's awesome news.” I grin and lean over, kissing her gently. Her dad isn't someone we’ve spoken about a lot, but I know how important he is to her. I know, like with everything else, she'll tell me more when she's ready.

She nods happily, her curls bouncing around her face. “Yes!” Her face drops a little. “They've tried so many times but nothing works. But it's not really a case of mental health with Dad, it's more a case of a broken heart. You can't cure a broken heart with anything but the love that broke it in the first place. He'll always be a little broken, I think.”

“Hey.” I lean round her and put the coffee down, propping myself up on my elbow. “It's okay to be a little broken, Maddie. Your Dad is a little broken for your mom but is a lot whole for you.”

She brightens suddenly, leaning forward and touching my cheek. “Thank you,” she murmurs, brushing her lips against mine. “How do you always make me feel better?”

I drop down and grab her waist, pulling her on top of me. She sweeps her hair to one side, letting it fall down over us like a fiery curtain.

“It's because I like seeing you happy.” I sit up, tightening my hold on her. Her arms wind around my neck, and she smiles shyly.

“Maybe I like being happy.”

“Good.” I dip my head and kiss her, tracing the seam of her lips with my tongue.

“Hey,” she mutters, pulling back. “I have work to do.”

“A work-out?” I grin wolfishly.

Her lips twitch upwards. “No. Schoolwork, Braden. Remember that?”

“No.”

“Maybe you should try to.”

“When I could work you instead? No thanks.”

She laughs and shoves me backwards, dropping down and kissing me one last time. “Get your lazy ass out of bed.” She jumps off the bed and grabs her purse from my desk.

I roll out of bed and run across the room.

“Braden! You're still naked!”

I grin and grab her, linking our hands and kissing her. I graze my teeth along her bottom lip, and she shivers, stepping back.

“Have fun, Angel.” I wink at her and launch myself back on the bed, pulling the covers over me.

She smirks at me over her shoulder and opens the door. “Try to do something productive today.”

“I will.”

She closes the door, and I reach for the coffee. Lying in bed thinking about her counts as productive
....

Right?

I relax back on the bed a little. For the first time in months, I feel like I can actually let go.

Pearce has left California – I don't need to be a mind-reader, but he has no reason to stay here. I made it clear that he wasn't getting any help from me anymore. I have my own life to think about now, my own growing up to do. I can't be the grown up for both of us anymore.

And judging by the still-untitled essay on the page in front of me, I have a long way to go on the growing up scale. But life is like an essay: you just have to find the right words to put it together.