The Game Series (4 page)

I'm pretty sure dating isn't supposed to be this fucking hard. A simple yes or no answer would do. All this waiting is driving me up a damn wall. So why am I waiting outside her dorm block for her?

Because it's Wednesday, two days after our first “date” and two days before our second “date”. In which I will miss my own damn party for her.

The door opens, and Kay steps in front of me.

“Any reason you're stalkin' my dorm, Carter?” She puts a hand on her hip and looks me over.

“Maddie around?”

“You could call and ask that, you know. Lurking outside girls' dorms isn't a good look for you.”

I clench my teeth. “Just answer the fucking question, Kay.”

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “She has class in half an hour.”

“Any chance you could call her down, like now?”

She sighs and pulls her cell out. She holds a button and puts it to her ear. “You have a stalker down here.”

She hangs up and storms past me.

“Thanks, Kay!” I call after her and she flips me off. Bitch.

I run my fingers through my hair, and Maddie appears at the door. Two girls run past her into the building, giggling, and she shakes her head.

“Isn't stalking a little below you, Braden?” She smirks at me, her pink, glossy lips turning up at one side. Her green eyes are wide and lined with a soft brown liner, her auburn hair pulled to one side revealing her very lightly tanned neck.

“You tell me, Maddie,” I reply. She leans against the wall, and I mimic her movement. “Will you come on another date, or do I have to stalk you some more?”

She plays with a piece of her hair, sliding her fingers up and down it. It makes me wonder what else she could slide her fingers up and down.

Not the fucking time, Braden. Make her fall in love, don't take her on the damn sidewalk.

“Maybe,” she replies, bringing me back to the conversation. Except now my brain is focused on the way her lips move when she talks.

“Maybe you'll go, or maybe I have to stalk you some more? I gotta say, Angel, I'm down for either.” I rake my eyes down her body, the tight tank top and cut-off shorts, and back up. “Stalking could definitely have its perks.”

She gasps and slaps my arm. Ouch. That stings. “You're a pig.”

“So I keep being told.” I sigh. “At least I'm an honest one.”

“True.” She laughs. “I guess it depends what you have in mind for this second date.”

“I guess you'll just have to wait and see.”

“Because you have no idea?”

Shit. She's too smart. “I just have a few things to finalize.”

“Presumptuous,” she challenges.

“I prefer to think of it as hopeful,” I counter, laughing. “What do you say, Maddie? Please?”

She bites the corner of her thumb, and I shove my hands in my pockets.

“Okay,” she agrees. “One more date.”

“Really?”

“Really, Braden.” She closes her eyes for a second and turns to the door. She punches the code in and opens it, looking at me over her shoulder through her lashes. “Mess this up, and there won't be another. I don't do games.”

She steps through and the door swings shuts. I turn and walk down the sidewalk.

Maddie does do games. The only difference is, she doesn't even realize she's playing it.

~

I have no idea what to do for this 'date'. Honestly, trying to get an idea out of my no-dating brain is like getting water from a stone. It's fucking impossible. I'm considering the walk on the beach shit Ryan suggested, but I can't just leave it at that. Can I?

Fuck this. When life gets hard, ask Google. Google knows everything.

I pull my laptop from under the bed and start it up, my leg shaking. The hassle I'm going through just for sex should be illegal in every damn state. Do people do this in real life?

This is crazy. I'm going crazy.

I double-click the browser, and it opens onto Google homepage.
Where to take a girl for your second date
, I type. I hit enter and my cell rings. I trap it between my ear and shoulder as I trawl through the search results.

“Yep?”

“Have you spoken to her yet?” Meggy asks.

“Yep. I waited outside her dorm block earlier.”

“I'm sorry? You did what?” She laughs. “You actually waited outside for her?”

“I wanted my answer. You know I'm impatient.” I click a link that looks promising.

“Okay. And what did she say?”

“She said yes. What, were you expecting her to say no?”

“I was fifty-fifty.” I know she's smirking, and I'd love to wipe it off her cheeky little face.

“She was always gonna say yes, Meggy. You know that.”

“Whatever. What are you doing now? Do you have anything planned for your big date?”

“I'm working on it,” I answer vaguely.

“That's a no.” She sighs. “Do you have any idea what you're doing?”

“If you'd be quiet for two minutes, I'd have ten.”

“Are you doing what I think you're doing?”

“It depends what you think I'm doing.”

“Braden William Carter, are you on Google?”

Shit. “Uh
...”

She sighs heavily down the phone. “Go on. Hit me with what it says.”

“Okay.” I scroll down. “Dinner out, dinner in, a movie, the opera - the fucking opera? No chance. Okay, umm, a picnic, rollerskating, coffee - tried and failed - bowling. Bowling? That could work.”

“You could grab food at the alley,” Meggy suggests. “You'd have fun.”

“But would Maddie like that?”

“Are you actually asking me if she'd like it? Is Mr. Insatiable going soft?”

“Fuck off.” I laugh. “I don't get this dating thing and you know it. Help me out here.”

“Are you dating her to get in her pants, Bray?” She asks the question so fast I double-take.

Yes. “No. Why would you ask that?”

“Maybe I'm having a hard time believing you actually like her and want more than sex.”

That's because you're right. “I like her, Meggy. She's beautiful and smart and funny-”

“And you sound like a robot.”

“I'm trying here.”

“You've always been trying, Bray. So what are you gonna do?”

I sigh. “Bowling, walk on the beach, then if she wants we can head back here for the party.”

“Sounds good. Bye now.” She hangs up, the call clicking off in my ear. I sometimes wonder if I'd kill her if she wasn't like my little sister.

I dial up the bowling alley and ask for a lane for two on Friday night. The girl at the other end of the phone giggles when I give her my name, and I exhale slowly. Sometimes - and I'd never tell anyone this - the fawning girls gets a little old. I book the alley and hang up pronto.

I chuck my cell down, shut the laptop, and lean my head back against the wall. Date two? Sorted.

I stare at my phone in disbelief. I left Brooklyn six weeks ago and now, only now, has my brother, Pearce, remembered me. This text message is the first time we've spoken since I came to Berkeley. Well, the first time he's spoken. I sent a text message when I got here to let him know I was safe, and then that was it. Until today.

I look again at my phone. I don't know why I expected any different from him. He would only get in contact if and when he wanted something. And like usual, it's money. I don't want to know what he wants it for, but judging by the fact he's asked for eight hundred dollars, I'd say its rent. All because his arrogant, selfish ass can't hold down a job long enough to support our suicidal father.

I rub my forehead and try to block out the memories, telling Pearce I'll call up the bank and wire the money to Dad's account. Not that it makes a difference. Pearce will use it on what he wants anyway, thinking of Dad second.

A wave of guilt crashes into me for leaving Dad, but I remind myself it's what he wanted, what she would have wanted for me. Pearce has always been too self-absorbed to make something of his life. I got the brains, and that's why she saved the money for me to access when I turned eighteen.

My college fund, she called it one day. Said she'd been saving since she knew I was coming, that she wanted me to have a good life. She'd been saving for Pearce too, but he bought a car and god knows what else. She'd be ashamed if she could see him now. She'd be so mad.

I squeeze my eyes shut, banishing those thoughts from my mind. Three years and the wound is still too fresh, too raw. The pain still trickles out the way blood trickles from a paper cut, but it's bearable. It's just a part of my life. Another part that I should have left behind when I left Brooklyn. But, like all good tragedies do, it's followed me.

I decide to skip out on going to the library for my free period, instead choosing to work from the safe bubble of my dorm. Plus, going to the library means bumping into Braden.

The Californian equivalent of my brother.

My thoughts fall to our 'date' tomorrow night. He must want in my pants really badly if he's still waiting. Usually he'll hang for half an hour - if you show your interest, good. If not, he's onto the next. Yep, you can't deny he doesn't mess around when it comes to his sex life. In fact, a part of me almost respects him for going after what he wants.

A part the size of my baby toe. The rest of me still thinks he's a pig.

I wonder what Mom would think if she knew I was doing this challenge. As an independent, strong woman, she'd probably be a little proud that I'm gonna put him in his place. As a mother, she'd warn me to be careful and not lose my own heart in the process. I snort at the idea. Lose my heart to Braden Carter?

Never going to happen.

~

“Casual,” Kay shouts from the bathroom.

“No, casual dressy,” Lila argues, shaking her head.

“Lila, they're bowling.” Megan huffs. “She needs to be casual yet comfy. I'd say a casual dress or a nice top and those tight jeans you have.”

“The ones that give my ass
its own ass?” I raise a brow.

“Yes. We need to show him what's on offer.” She moves towards my drawers.

“Make me sound like a promotional display at Target, why don't you?” I roll my eyes. “Besides, I thought we were making him fall in love with me, not turn him into a walking erection.”

“The way to Braden's heart is through his dick.” She takes the jeans, shuts the drawer with her hip, and passes them to me. Kay roars with laughter and comes back into the room.

“Braden has a heart?” She laughs. “Funny, Megs, funny.”

“Hey.” Megan turns and points her finger at her. “He does. It's just wrapped up in latex and usually between some girl's legs.”

“Nice,” I mutter, taking the jeans. Lila pats my arm sympathetically.

“It won't be that bad, Maddie,” she reassures me. “Besides, if you tell him you wanna head back to the party afterward, we'll be there and you can escape for a few minutes.”

“But it's gonna be like, two hours.” I watch Megan rifle through my closet. “Two hours alone with Braden. This is gonna be torture. You guys don't even understand it.”

“You can't hate him that much, Mads.” Megan turns. “Can you?”

I sigh, looking at the carpet. “You have no idea. I wasn't joking when I said he was everything I hated.”

“Then don't do it.” Kay spears me with her gaze. “Give up. Quit.” She shrugs a shoulder.

“What?” I frown.

“If it's that bad, then back out. We won't hold it against you, but it'll be you wondering whether or not it would have worked.”

“Don't do your reverse psychology trash on me, Kay.” I sniff, standing and moving to my closet. I pull out a long, white top with a floral design and grab my white gladiator sandals. “You all know I won't give up. I'll just have to suffer for your amusement.”

I turn and storm into the bathroom to get changed. Quit. I might be annoyed I have to do this, but I'm not going to give up. I said I would do it, and I will.

I change quickly, brushing my hair and securing it into a ponytail with a band. A quick brush of mascara on my lashes, a hint of bronzer along my cheekbones followed by a slick of gloss on my lips, and I decide it's as good as it's gonna get.

Kay whistles when I walk back into our room.

“Sexy lady!” She winks and I crack a smile at her.

“Good enough?” I spin and bow.

“Perfect,” Megan declares. “Braden won't be able to resist you.”

I move to the mirror and slightly tease my bangs. That's what I'm worried about.

A horn beeps outside and Lila squeals, running to the window. “He's here!”

“Great,” I mutter, grabbing my purse. “Have fun without me, and try not to think of me too much, yeah?”

“You'll be fine, baby girl.” Kay grins at me. “Shake your ass, flick your hair, and bat those eyelashes a few times. Do that and this is in the bag!”

“Right.” I sigh, waving over my shoulder as I shut the door behind me. I skip down the stairs, not wanting to prolong this “date”.

I can see him through the window of the main door. His hands are in the pockets of another pair of washed-out dark jeans, a black top covering his muscular torso. I open the door, and he smiles at me, his blue eyes brightening under his blonde hair.

I get why girls fall over him. That smile is disarming.

“Maddie.” He says my name softly. “You look beautiful.”

He's laying it on thick tonight, apparently. “Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself.”

“You mean you can deal being seen in public with me?” He raises his eyebrows, and I smile, stepping into the evening sunshine.

“Maybe. Although, be warned, if we see anyone we know I
will
hide.” I follow him to his car – a black Jetta. Of course. I bet he doesn't foot the bill, though.

He opens the door for me, and I climb in, sinking into the leather seats. Stylish.

“Nice car,” I compliment as he gets in next to me.

“Thanks.” He grins. “Graduation present. I worked hard for this baby.” He pats the dashboard and starts the engine, pulling away from my block smoothly.

“I'm sure you did,” I mutter, looking out of the window.

“What?” He glances at me quickly.

“Nothing.” I wish I'd backed out earlier. In three days I've had two chances to throw my hands up and say “stuff it,” and I haven't. Why? Because I'm probably borderline clinically insane. Failing that, I'm just damn stupid.

Hearing from Pearce yesterday has just reshaped Braden in my mind. When I look at him, I see all the things my brother did to my old best friend. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I won't think of that today. I won't think of how I saw him destroy her and our friendship in the process.

“You look like you're thinking too hard, Angel.” Braden shifts in his seat, and I realize we've pulled up to the bowling alley. I turn to him.

“Just thinking about my family, that's all,” I reply, unclipping the seatbelt. I hear his door open and close then mine opens. He's playing the gentleman game. “Thank you,” I say and accept the hand he gives me.

“I'm sorry,” he says, locking the car and putting a hand on my back. “I forget you're from Brooklyn. It must be hard being away from your family.”

What's left of it. “Sometimes. Sometimes I'm glad of the freedom I have now.”

“I bet.” He smiles down at me. “Do you speak to them much?”

“Is this twenty questions?” I'm amused.

“Would you be annoyed if I said yes?”

“Not at all.” I let out a small laugh. “Last I heard, a girl was lucky if Braden Carter asked her name.”

He smirks down at me and pulls me towards the counter. “Then you should consider yourself
very
lucky.” He looks up at the girl behind the counter who beams at him, twirling her hair round her finger and sticking out her chest.

He's clearly on a date. Do these girls have no morals?

Not that I'm bothered. It's just sickening.

“I have a lane booked for six thirty. Under Carter?” he says, ignoring her obvious attempts at getting his attention. Woah, he's good.

“Of course, we have you booked in here. In fact, I think I took the call.” Boobs beams even wider and crosses his name off the list with a flourish. Ugh. Go look in a mirror and practice being a Barbie doll. She's practically a life-size one anyway.

“I'm sure you did.” Braden smiles politely, albeit tightly at her. It doesn't look forced. Whoa, hold on there. Could Mr. Playboy hate all that attention? Surely not. Another glance at him. Yep. He's definitely not impressed. I file that bit of information away for the dissection of the date tomorrow with the girls.
Interesting.

“Maddie?” He taps my side. “What size shoes do you need?”

“Oh, um, a seven, please.” I smile sweetly at Boobs. She gives me an icy look and grabs a pair of shoes. I look at the size when she slides them to me. “They're a nine,” I tell her. “I said
seven
.”

She snatches them back and passes me another pair. Sevens.

“Thank you.” I give her another sweet smile and follow Braden to the seats opposite to change our shoes.

“Feisty,” he whispers when we sit down.

“She gave me the wrong size.” I put my socks on from my purse. “Plus I'm pretty sure she's jealous.”

“Oh, this again?” He winks at me. I roll my eyes and hand him my sandals as we stand.

“Try not to get sucked in by her chest when you hand them back.”

“Why, Maddie.” He steps closer to me, hooking a finger under my chin and tilting it upwards. “Are
you
jealous?”

I bat my eyelashes twice. “Would you be annoyed if I said yes?”

He laughs loudly and runs his thumb across my jaw. “No, Angel, I wouldn't be annoyed. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'd like it if you were jealous. That, and I can see you and jealousy being crazy sexy. We'd probably have to leave if you were.”

He hands the shoes to Boobs and comes back to me, sliding his arm round my waist.

“That would be unfortunate,” I whisper, biting my lip to stop myself laughing.

“Not from where I'm standing,” he says into my ear in a husky voice.

Play. The. Game.

“Then I might just be jealous.”

“You are?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Yes, but there's a bowling ball over there with my name on it and a guy standing next to me whose ass I have to kick. So yes, leaving would be unfortunate.” I spin from his hold and walk backwards, grinning. His lips curl up in an amused smile, his eyes sparkling.

“Then let's make a deal. If you kick my ass, I get to touch yours.”

Here we go. Round one, ding ding.

“Braden, you don't lose then,” I say innocently, my hand on the blue ball I always use.

“I know.” He stops in front of me, and I bite my top lip. He looks down at my mouth. “I don't like to lose.”

I release my lip and my heart pounds. Is that a challenge, or a promise? “Neither do I,” I whisper. “So prepare to get your ass kicked.”

I haul the ball from the stand and turn to our lane. I feel him tug my hair as he comes up behind me.

“I'm going to enjoy touching your ass, Maddie.”

“I'm going to enjoy kicking
your
ass, Braden.”

“Feisty,” he repeats, grinning again.

I smirk at him and step up to take the first bowl. In a roundabout way, this is actually kinda fun.