The Game Series (28 page)

I need to make like Cinderella at midnight.

Time goes too fast. Too fucking fast.

Since I kissed Megan, I’ve slowly retreated into my own mind. Every day brings a fresh set of memories, slicing open a fresh set of scars. Every day cuts open a new wound that bleeds for hours. Every set of memories starts a fresh onslaught of cuts inside my mind that will never heal. Each one has its own shape, its own meaning, its own pain.

Each one is a reminder of why I can’t give Megan what she deserves. Each one is a reminder why I should have stayed away from her in the first place and why I should now.

Broken. Shattered. Mismatched.

They’re the first three words I think of when I have to describe myself. They spring to mind instantly.

Useless. Worthless. Nothing.

They’re the next three. The words that were drummed into my mind so many times, by so many voices, for so long. They’re the words that creep under your skin, worm their way into you and never leave.

A good word can linger with you for a few fleeting moments while a bad one will never leave.

It’s too close to the words that both shattered and made my life. The words that broke and saved me.

She’s gone.

I rub the heels of my hands in my eyes, bending forwards, and take a deep breath. This … Thinking of her this weekend, the woman who was supposed to protect me no matter the cost, is inevitable, I know. That doesn’t mean I want to. It doesn’t mean I have any fucking intention of remembering the woman I have to call my mother.

I stand abruptly, storming across the room and yanking open my door. I leave it to slam behind me as I fly down the stairs to where music is pounding for a sophomore, Mark’s, birthday party, and grab a bottle of beer from the fridge. I uncap it, raising the rim to my lips and letting the cold liquid run down my throat. I need to forget. I don’t care who I forget with, I just need to forget all the shit of before.

It’d be a lot fucking easier if Megan Harper hadn’t ruined me for all other girls. It would certainly be a lot fucking easier if I wasn’t comparing all girls’ lips to the soft, rosy pinkness of hers, or their eyes to the never-ending blue of hers.

Yeah. It’d be a lot easier if last weekend had never happened.

I catch the gaze of a girl across the kitchen. Her dark eyes give me a once over, and she flicks her black hair over her shoulder curving her lips into a smile. I lean against the end of the bar, taking in her slim figure. She saunters over to me confidently and gives me a dazzling smile.

“Can I help you?” I smirk, twirling the beer bottle between my fingers.

She steps closer, and my eyes drop to her chest. Her boobs are almost spilling from her top, black lace creeping up above the neck of her shirt.

“I’m not sure,” she says in a sultry tone. “But I’m pretty sure I can help you.”

She trails a fingertip down my arm, leaning in even closer. Woah – I’m all for forward girls, but this chick has never heard of personal space.

I step back slightly. “And how can you do that?”

“Wouldn’t you just like to know?” She runs her tongue across her top lip in a move I’m sure she thinks is sexy, but it just isn’t doing it for me tonight.

I catch the bob of a blonde head over her shoulder and flick my eyes there. Megan downs a shot and slams the glass on the table, glancing over her shoulder and glaring at the girl in front of me. The guy next to her says something, and I hear her laugh softly, the sound riling me. She leans in closer to him, smoothing her hair round to one side. Her legs are crossed on the stool, her tight black skirt riding up the smooth skin of her thigh.

The thighs I want wrapped around my neck and my waist.

I drink a little, ignoring the girl in front of me, and watch as Megan purses her lips around a straw.

The lips I want against mine.

Her hand runs through her hair, fluffing it up and letting it fall down in a messy style.

The hand I want to thread my fingers through while I hold her under me, messing up her hair in a totally different way.

God. Fucking. Damn.

She glances back over her shoulder, her blue eyes icy as they meet mine. She smiles but there’s nothing genuine about it. Her head turns, and she says something to the guy before she disappears through the crowd.

I give my attention to the girl in front of me, not really seeing her. “Look, babe, you’re not really my type. Try that guy at the other end of the bar. He looks like he could use some of your help.” I nod to the guy Megan was just talking to and take off, leaving the girl disgruntled behind me.

I leave the frat house, the air outside getting colder as Berkeley slowly moves into winter, and cross the street to the main campus – and the girls’ dorms. Thanks to her sharing with Lila, I know her building and her room number and I know that’s where she’ll be.

I’m not thinking about what I’m doing. I’m not thinking about who this could hurt, what could happen after this, or even how I’m gonna feel. All I can think about is Megan and her helping me forget.

If I can’t forget about her, I need to forget my past
with
her tonight.

Tomorrow, I’ll deal with the shit fallout that’s bound to come. I’ll deal with the crap in my head from yet another bad decision.

I wink at the pair of girls that let me into her dorm block and take the stairs two at a time to her floor. I knock on her door twice and lean against the door frame.

“There’s no one here,” she shouts.

I bang again. “Open this fucking door, Megan, or so help me, I’ll break it down.”

The lock clicks and it creaks open. She pokes her face through the gap. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I nudge her into the room and shut the door, turning to twist the key in the lock. Her room is tidy, a stark contrast to the mess of mine, and it’s so Megan. Books are piled high on her desk, both schoolwork and otherwise, and although she’s hiding it, I can see the stuffed toys under the bed. Clothes are strung over the chair in the corner, and judging by the tidy bed next to it, I’m guessing they’re Lila’s.

“Hello, Aston? What the hell are you doing here?” she repeats.

I look down at her and run my hand through my hair. “Honestly? I have no fucking idea.”

“Was that girl not “your type?” Her boobs too far inside her top for you?” Megan raises her eyebrows.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Megs.” I spin so I’m right in front of her and her back is against the door.

She tilts her head up, looking at me defiantly, and her shirt slips off her shoulder slightly. “I’m not the one who looked like they wanted to rip someone’s head off at that party.”

I flatten my hands on the door either side of her head, boxing her in, and move my face toward hers. My eyes search the blue in front of me. “And I’m not the one who looked like they wanted to rip out someone’s extensions,” I say quietly. “Who’s the jealous one, Megan?”

“You,” she whispers. “I have nothing to be jealous of.”

“You’re right.” I drop one of my hands to her waist, flexing my fingers. She clenches a fist, looking at me steadily. “You don’t have anything to be jealous of, because I’m here and not there.”

“And why exactly are you here?”

I stare at her, barely breathing, not moving, and the words burn their way up my throat with a feral need to get out.

“Because I need you. I need to feel you again. One kiss … One poxy little kiss … It wasn’t enough. It was nowhere near fucking enough, Megan. It won’t ever be enough, not with you. I don’t know if anything will be enough.”

Her lips part slightly and her body relaxes a little. Her chest heaves as she takes a breath in. “You …” She swallows, putting a hand against my chest. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I shouldn’t be, but I am.”

“This is wrong.”

“Yep.” I bend my head toward hers. “But I’m here, Megan. Think whatever the fuck you wanna think, but I’m not going anywhere until I get to kiss you senseless again.”

“I’m not blind, Aston. There’s more than just kissing on your mind.”

“I’m not denying that.”

She pauses and closes her eyes for a second. “You … Argh!” She opens her eyes. “You need to go. I can’t …”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t stand here with you looking at me like that and not do something I’m going to regret.”

I cup the side of her head and stroke my thumb down her cheek. “You already have though, haven’t you? You regret walking away last weekend. I can see it.”

“No.”

“If you didn’t regret it you would have kicked me out by now. You wouldn’t have even let me in here.” I tilt her face up. “You know why I’m here and you did before you opened that door.”

Her blue eyes are fixed on mine, and whatever it is she’s doing to me wrecks me a little more. Whatever fucked up hold I’ve allowed this girl to have on my fucked up self has just strengthened a little more.

“Why are you here?” She demands.

“You know.”

“Tell me. God dammit, Aston. Don’t hint with me. Don’t stand there, pull your usual tricks and think I’ll fall into your lap with my knickers down. If you’re here for a reason then you tell me now. Are we clear now?”

“Fine,” I whisper, dipping my head so my face is so close to hers you couldn’t get a breath between us. I can still see her eyes, though, and they’re raging. “Because it obviously isn’t fucking obvious enough – I’m here because I want to finish what we started last weekend. I want to push you into this wall, kiss the crap out of you, then I wanna throw you on your bed and kiss the crap out of the rest of your body. And then, Megan, then I’m gonna sink so deep inside you you’ll forget where you end and I begin.”

She swallows, her eyes widening. Her tongue darts out and licks a trail across her lips, sending all the blood in my body down to my cock.

I lean my body into her. “Are we fucking clear
now
?”

Megan crashes her lips into me, hot and hard. Her fingers dig into my shoulders and her body presses against me, molding to the shape of me. I kiss her harder, making her lean into the wall even more, and I’m straining through my jeans with the force of my need for her.

I move my hands across her body like I’m starved, which I am. I touch and hold, smooth and grip, probe and tickle. I sweep my tongue into her mouth, deeply, desperately, needing and wanting to taste every inch of her mouth. Her back slams into the door, and she whimpers.

Her bottom lip is soft and swollen between my teeth as I tug on it slightly, and groan breathlessly as I release it. She opens her eyes, the heaviness of her lids adding to the fire raging in them. My gaze is steady, my grip on her anything but. I hook my fingers under her shirt, shaking slightly, resisting the urge to rip it away from her beautiful skin. Her heavy breathing races between her lips, and we’re so close I can almost taste it.

“Megan,” I whisper, my heart pounding. I know how bad this is. I know nothing good can come from this. Three days ago she was cursing me, hating me, and now she’s pinned against her door by me. I embody everything she hates.

But I don’t give a shit right now. I need her. I need her so fucking badly it scares me.

Her hands slide across my shoulders and up my neck to the back of my head where she sinks her fingers into my hair, winding it round them. “Don’t,” she breathes out. “This is wrong. So wrong. But I can’t stop myself. I can’t stop this time.”

Air rushes from my lungs at her words, and I take her mouth with mine harshly. Her tongue slides across my lips, wriggling slightly at the seam of them. I slide mine out, caressing hers, and I stroke my hands up her back, pulling her from the door slightly. Her kiss is demanding, asking and telling me what she wants at the same time.

I’m powerless to deny her it.

I’m powerless to deny her anything.

~

Megan picks herself up on shaky arms and legs, and I don’t want to let my arms drop away from her the way they do. She grins at me, grabs her clothes, and heads for the small bathroom to the side of her room.

I push myself up onto my elbows, letting my head drop forward for a second, accepting the reality of the situation. The reality being that I am well and truly fucked – and not just in a physical sense. I’m fucked in every way possible.

I shove myself upwards, roll off the condom, and dump it in the trashcan. I wipe myself off with some tissue and get dressed. I’m just about to pull my shirt over my head when I hear the door open and Megan speak in a small voice.

“We have to go and pretend, don’t we?” She looks at me, her face earnest. “We have to go pretend this never happened. Just like last time. But worse.” She drops her eyes to the floor.

I pull my shirt over my head as I cross the room. I stop just in front of her, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah. That’s the general idea.”

She sighs heavily, dropping her hand from the doorknob. “I figured as much.”

“But it doesn’t mean we don’t have to pretend we don’t exist.” I touch her waist before she can move, and she turns her face up to me, her brow furrowed.