The Game Series (39 page)

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Authors: Emma Hart

BOOK: The Game Series
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His fingertips dig into my skin slightly, and I twist his hair around my fingers gently, looking at him intently.

“She couldn’t parent. She didn’t know how to. I was always an afterthought – and everything was blamed on me. She blamed it on me, the guys blamed it on me, and when you get taught everything is your fault, you start to believe it. Every cut or bruise was explained as me being a rough little boy to the social, and every cut or bruise was explained as me being a little no-good bastard to
me.
That was their reasoning. That I was good for nothing, no better than my mom.” He pauses for a second, breathing harshly.

I move my hands to cup his face and rest my forehead against his, letting him calm down even as my own stomach twists. He closes his eyes in pain, and I can’t begin to imagine the things that are playing out behind his eyes. All I can do is sit here with him, holding him to me, and ride it out.

“That’s what I remember most, the things they said to me,” he whispers. “It’s like they enjoyed hurting me with words as much as they did with their fists. It was all the time. All the fucking time, Megs. I remember them always telling me I’d be no better than her, that sex was all she was good for so it would be all I was good for. Sex and drugs and alcohol – they said that was my life, and it would have been true. She never sent me to school because of the bruises, so eventually I would have ended up the same way if she hadn’t died.”

“How did she die?”

“Drugs. What else?” He shrugs a shoulder, moving his arms so they wrap around my body. “The official report states it was from an overdose of a bad batch of heroine. The drug had been tampered with, making it even more dangerous, and she accidentally overdosed. They reckon she’d been going through withdrawals and in her confused and desperate state she used more than she normally would have. She was found three blocks away from our apartment at a seedy bar, and I was found at home a day later. That’s what Gramps said anyway. I remember it all as just one blur of time. Day and night were the same to me then. Mom slept during the day and left at night. I was left alone most of the time – except for a single weekly outing to the park to keep up appearances. That was the one day she cared about me.”

His voice is so broken, so small, so lost. It’s like he’s regressed back into the mind of the six-year old he was and is seeing the world through his eyes again. I look at him, look into his sad eyes, and my heart clenches as a tear spills from his eye. I’ve seen him angry. I’ve seen him fight the demons. But I’ve never seen him cry, and this breaks my heart.

Seeing him cry is worse than I ever could have imagined.

 

Chapter Twenty - Aston

 

One tear falls, and another, and another.

The pain is real. It’s old but real, always there, and it’s finally breaking through. It’s been held back for so long, but it’s finally out. I’m starting to let go of the things that have killed me for years.

Megan’s touch is warm and soft, comforting and safe, and as she pulls me into her, I let her. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t do anything but just hold me. She reminds me I’m not alone, that I’m safe. As much as I need to hold her, I need her to hold me just as much. She grounds me and keeps me here. By focusing on her I’m reminded that I’m not six years old and afraid anymore. She stops the flashbacks consuming me. She makes that pain bearable.

“That’s why I major in psych,” I breathe out after a while of her holding me. “Because it means I can help kids like me that have all this shit in their heads. If I’d had someone to talk to when I was younger, I probably wouldn’t be this fucked up now.”

“You’re not fucked up.” She sits back and runs her thumbs across my cheeks, drying the tears there. “You had a hard life, Aston, but now you’re dealing with it. You’re proving, yourself, that all those men, they were wrong. By graduating school and coming here, you’re proving them wrong. You did that. No one else.”

“No. I’m always gonna be a little fucked up, Megs. I’m still gonna wake in the night and wonder if I’m hiding under my bed or if I’m safe. I’m still gonna doubt myself every day, and I’m still gonna be a little broken, no matter what I do.”

“But you’ll also heal a little more every day,” she says softly. “We’ll find a way to help you deal with those nightmares and flashbacks, I promise. I’ll help you, Aston.”

Her blue eyes gaze into mine and her hair falls around our faces, hiding us from the rest of the world. I could lose myself in her eyes a thousand times over and still go back again. I could fall into her touch and never feel the need to get up, and I realize that’s why she’s so different to everyone else. She gives me what no one else ever has. She slowly pulled me from not caring about anything to caring about her. And she’s made me realize so many things.

No matter what Mom’s boyfriends said, I’ve proved them wrong. It was my own actions that got me to Berkeley – to meet Megan. When I went to live with Gramps he taught me everything, but it was me that pushed on through it, graduated high school and came to college.

It was me that made it so I could meet Megan.

I will never be like my mom because she never loved anyone except herself. I can never be that person, destined for a broken life of sex, drugs, and alcohol.

Because I’m completely in love with the girl right in front of me.

 

~

 

Here we are, back at the usual Friday nights I craved so much. Friday nights meant forgetting and giving in to physical feelings only. Friday and Saturday nights were the best nights, but now I just want to grab Megan and run. I want to take her away from this shit ass party.

Especially when Lila’s fucked up plan to get her a date has made its way round the classes we all have and you have every Tom, Dick, and fucking Harry trying to get in there.

Every time one of those jackasses goes up to her, for a split second, I resent Braden and the fact he’s the reason this relationship is fucking secret. I’d love to go over to her right now, grab her away from the dick in front of her and kiss her senseless in front of everyone to make my point. I’d do anything to take her away from them and show everyone where she belongs. Who she belongs to.

Because she is mine, and not in a possessive way. It’s my arms she falls into, my lips she kisses, my heart she holds. All of that makes her mine.

Not the arrogant bastard’s she’s talking to.

I slam my bottle down, ignoring startled looks from around me, and push through the throngs of people. I deliberately nudge her back as I pass her and head to the stairs. My feet take them two at a time, flying up. I’m not watching that shit anymore. My room is silent, quiet, and I wait for her to come up.

I have no idea how long I have to wait. Too long and I’ll end up going back down there, too little and people will guess she’s come after me. People will wonder why … But I don’t know if I care anymore. I don’t know if I can care anymore.

My door opens and closes.

“There has to be a good reason you just stormed up here like a girl on her period with no access to chocolate,” Megan quips.

“I can’t do this secret shit anymore, baby.” I turn around and pin her with my eyes, briefly noticing how well her jeans hug her hips. “I can’t be down there with you surrounded by assholes and not slip my arm around your waist and warn them off with my eyes. I can’t fuckin’ do it. Not now.”

“It’s never bothered you before.”

“It’s always bothered me! You think I’ve never cared when I’ve watched you laughing and joking with whoever it is trying to get inside your damn pants on that night?”

She steps forward. “I never said you didn’t care! I said it never bothered you – and if it did you never showed me!”

“So if I walked up to a girl and started talking to her for the sake of keeping up appearances, you wouldn’t be bothered by it, huh?” I look at her helplessly. “I can’t watch them fucking ogle you, Megs. This secret relationship has gone on for too long. We have to come clean.”

Her eyes widen a little. “We can’t … Braden–”

“Will have to fucking deal with it!” I step in front of her, cupping the side of her face, and she rests her hands against my chest. “He’ll have to deal with it. He’ll have to accept it, because I’m not pretending anymore and I’m not giving you up for shit.”

“He’ll hate us,” she whispers.

“The damage has already been done, baby. It’s him or us.”

She shakes her head, running her bottom lip between her teeth worriedly. “Braden.” I hate the way she winces when she says his name.

“Then we have to tell him,” I say softly, lowering my mouth to hers. “Now. We’ll tell him now.”

The door bursts open “Tell me what?”

Chapter Twenty-One - Megan

 

I jump away from Aston, my hand flying to my mouth when I see Braden standing there. His eyes flick between us, the blue in them slowly getting icier, his expression getting harder.

The tension in the room rockets. I can almost feel Aston tensing next to me, see the anger and realization flooding through Braden’s body. I’m standing frozen, unable to do anything but wait. Unable to do anything but look at the anger and betrayal firing up in my best friend’s eyes.

There are a thousand excuses rolling around my mind, but the cat really does have my tongue.

There’s nothing than can excuse this.

And it’s time to be honest.

“Ryan thought he saw you follow Aston up.” Braden focuses his eyes on me. “I thought he was crazy. I told him it was some other poor fucker, but when a couple of the other guys agreed I said I’d come up just for a laugh. Because I didn’t actually fucking think I’d find you up here in his goddamn bedroom!”

“Bray …” I whisper.

“How long?” He looks at Aston, his jaw tight. “How long have you been fucking her?”

“Braden!”

“It’s not like that,” Aston replies equally tight.

“Really? You expect me to believe that bullshit?” Braden yells. “How long?”

“About the time you took Maddie home.”

“That was the first time?” His blue eyes pierce me.

I nod, my hand falling away from my mouth. “Just after.”

He laughs bitterly and turns to Aston. “I go away for two days and you jump into bed with her a week later?”

“With each other!” I step forward. “Each. Other, Braden!”

“Oh and that’s supposed to make it fucking better is it?”

“No!” I move in front of Aston. “No, it isn’t. Nothing can make it better and I have no excuses for this, but you have to realize I can make my own decisions. I’m old enough to deal with the fall-out. I love that you have my back, I do, but you can’t always be there to protect me! Aston didn’t force me into anything. Do you get that? I
wanted
to!”

His eyes focus on me, my chest heaves, and Aston touches my arm.

“Megs–”

“No,” I say, my eyes on Braden. “As much as he’d like to believe it, it’s not just you. I’m not gonna stand here and watch him give you shit because of something we both did.”

“How long have you been sleeping with
each other
?” Braden says sarcastically. “Because it makes the world of fucking difference.”


We
have been in a
relationship
since the weekend after you left,” I correct him.

“Ha!” Braden slams his hand into the wall. “A relationship? Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking unreal. You’ve made some shit choices, Megan, but this tops the goddamn list!” He passes through the door. I wrench my arm from Aston’s grip and follow him, not caring who can hear this conversation.

“The decision to be with Aston wasn’t the bad choice! The bad one was keeping it from you – and you know why that happened? You know why I didn’t tell you? Because of this. To stop this happening! I knew you’d go bat shit crazy over it!”

“So why did you fucking do it?” he throws over his shoulder.

“Because I wanted to!”

“And that makes it better?” He stops, turning to look at me. He motions in the direction of Aston’s room. “He’s just gonna break your heart, Megan! That’s what he does. He fucks girls and leaves them–”

“You don’t know him like I do!”

“No, but there’s a lot of girls that do!”

“No they don’t!” I yell, my foot stamping. My hands come up to the sides of my head. “They don’t know him the way I do. None of you do, so don’t you fucking stand there and tell me it was a bad decision when you know nothing –
nothing –
about my decision! You know nothing about us. You know
nothing
about how I feel, or how he feels!”

“Go on, then, Megs. If it’s such a big thing, the
real fucking deal
, tell me. How do you feel?”

I look at him steadily, opening my mouth to speak.

“I love her,” Aston says from halfway down the hall. “I can’t answer for her, but I can answer for me. And the answer is I love her.”

My hands fall to my sides, and I swallow. My heart takes up a frantic beat in my chest, pounding and rattling against my ribs. We’ve never said it. He’s never said it.

And now he’s admitting it. Out loud. To Braden. And anyone else listening.

“Do you love her or what she gives you?” Braden asks uncertainly, his voice still laced with anger.

Aston steps up behind me, reaching down and taking my hands in his. His fingers lace through mine, and as his chest touches mine I can feel the vulnerability in him. The only person he’s ever opened up to about anything is me, and now he has to do it to someone else.

“I love her for who she is, and who I am when I’m with her. Everything Maddie does for you, times that by a million, and that’s what Megan does for me. She’s right, Braden. None of you know me like she does. She knows everything about me – even the things I didn’t want anyone to ever know. She knows them and she’s still here. I love her for everything she gives me, every touch, every smile, I love it all.

“You can come flying at me now and kick the shit out of me. I’ll take it because I deserve it for going behind your back, but I won’t fucking apologize. I won’t ever apologize for loving her, so don’t expect me to. And don’t expect me to walk away from her because I won’t. I can’t.”

He tightens his grip on my hands slightly, and my body shakes. Gentle footsteps on the stairs announce Maddie’s arrival, and my eyes slide to hers. I don’t see the anger or annoyance I expect.

I see understanding.

“And you, Meggy?” Braden questions.

Deep breath. “I love him, Bray. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I am. Both of us tried not to let it happen but it did, and I’m not sorry for that. I’m just sorry it hurts you so much.”

Maddie slides her arm around Braden’s, leaning against him, and he heaves out a breath.

“Y’know what hurts the most?” He looks at me, anger gone from his eyes. A hint of defeat replaces it. “You’re my best friend and you didn’t think you could tell me. You didn’t even feel for a second that you could tell me. Maybe that’s my fault, but that’s what gets me. Am I pissed you lied about it? Fucking right I am. I’m fuming. But I can’t be mad at you. No matter how much I want to slam my fist into Aston’s face and yell at you, I can’t.”

“Why not?” Aston asks. “I’d deserve it.”

Braden’s eyes go over my shoulder to meet the gray pair I love. “Because when I look in Megan’s eyes I see the same love for you that Maddie has in hers for me. You didn’t hesitate for a second to tell me you love her, when she didn’t even know yet. I could tell that from her reaction. You hadn’t told her, and I made you tell me. I’d be a fucking hypocrite if I was mad at you for that, but just because I’m not mad doesn’t mean I want to be around you right now.”

He shakes his arm from Maddie and walks down the stairs to his room. Maddie looks at both of us, a small smile playing on her lips.

“It took long enough for you to admit it,” she says softly.

“You knew?” Aston pulls me closer to him.

Her smile grows a little, and she tucks some hair behind her ear. “Of course I did. I know pain, Aston, and pain knows pain. You have some pain deep inside you, I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s there. And Megs is the softest, most understanding person I know. You two were drawn together because she could heal your wounds. I’ve known since we got back that you two had something.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” I tilt my head to the side slightly.

She makes to follow Braden, pausing on the top stair. “Because …” She grins. “If Braden had any suspicions and asked me if you’d said anything, I wouldn’t have had to lie to him.” 

I can’t help but smile. She knows him so well. She knows him like I know Aston.

I breathe out deeply, letting myself relax against him. His arms wrap around me tightly, his face burying into my neck.

“That was … Fun,” he says dryly.

“That went well,” I say truthfully. “I was expecting Braden to punch first, ask later. That’s his usual M.O.”

“Maybe he was just so shocked you were actually there that he forgot to punch me first.”

I let out a small laugh. “I think that’s probably right.”

He releases me and steers us back into his room, nudging the door shut. I rub my hands down my face.

“What do we do now?” I look at him.

Aston grins, moving toward me. “We stop hiding, and I get to go all protective on your pretty little ass when some dickhead tries to hit on you.”

My lips curve up on one side. He cups my face and brushes his lips across mine.

“That sounds about right.”

“Yep. We just have to clear something up first.”

“What’s that?”

His gray eyes clear, becoming raw and honest. “I’m sorry I never told you how I feel.”

“I know now,” I respond.

He shakes his head a little. “No, you don’t. You don’t know how just a touch of your hand can take away the pain from my past, and you don’t know how lying next to you at night stops the nightmares. You don’t know that you’re the first person to really make me smile, and you definitely don’t know that I’m so in love with you I can’t see or think straight.
‘In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’” 

Damn.
He gets the British accent perfect. I smile up at him, and resting my hands on his waist, I move our bodies closer. His fingers slip into my hair, curling around the back of my head, barely brushing the top of my neck.

“Even when I tried not to, I still did,” he says in a softer voice, resting his forehead against mine. My nose brushes his, and I close my eyes, just listening to him. “I stepped over the edge and started falling for you, and I’m damn sure I don’t ever want to get back up from it. I don’t know how you do it, baby, but you make me better.”

Aston touches his lips to mine, a feather-light brush, and I slide my hands around and up his back to his shoulders.

“A speech worthy of Mr. Darcy,” I mutter, smiling. He pulls his face back, his eyes lighter, his lips curved upwards. My hands move along his arms, and I hold his gaze intensely. “I love you, Aston. I don’t know how or why, I just know that I do. Everything you think about yourself, everything you’ve been told, I see and think the complete opposite. You are worth everything to me –
everything.
Okay? And I promise you here and now, I won’t leave.”

He takes a shuddery breath, vulnerability flickering in his eyes. Instead of saying anything he dips his face toward mine, and our lips meet again. His hands slide down my back, and as I wrap my arms around his neck our bodies align perfectly.

“You don’t have a choice,” Aston whispers, his breath fanning across my lips. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever let you leave. Besides, we never had a proper first kiss.”

“We did. Up against a wall after you attacked me, I believe.”

“That wasn’t a kiss. That was a prelude to sex that never happened.”

“Yes, but kissing happened,” I remind him.

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly. “But it wasn’t a kiss – not a proper kiss.”

“You’ve kissed me hundreds of times, Aston.”

“I know. But we still never had a real first kiss.”

I sigh, slightly amused by this. “Why is that so important to you?”

“Because you’re the most romantic person I know, and I know it matters to you.”

“It doesn’t matter that much.” I gaze into his smoky eyes. “It’s just a kiss.”

“Nothing with you is ‘just’ anything,” he mutters, smiling. “It’s always more than it seems, and I want to give you the first kiss you deserve.”

“You don’t have to do anything. Having us is more than enough.”

“Megan …”

“You’re not going to give up on the idea of a second first kiss, are you?”

Aston shakes his head. “I’ll never give up on anything where you’re concerned. So let me have my way.”

“Fine,” I whisper.

He dips his face toward me, the tip of his nose brushing mine. My eyes flutter closed.

“I hope you’re ready for the best first kiss of your life,” he whispers. “Because it’s gonna be your last first kiss.”

His hand slides to the back of my head and pushes us together. Our mouths meet, a soft touch that becomes gently more probing. His lips caress mine slowly, and my body sinks into him. The taste of him, the feel of him, the smell of him – it all takes me over. With each brush of his lips I feel myself falling deeper into him, even deeper than I am already.

I feel myself crashing into him with everything I have, crashing into him and holding on tightly to everything he has to give. Because the romantic in me wants it all and it won’t let it go. At all.

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