The Game That Breaks Us (38 page)

Elle groans from her side of the room. “Will you help me? I’m not good at this kind of thing.” She drags a brush through her hair, butchering the strands.

I run to the other side of the room and stop her. “For starters, don’t do that.” I take the brush from her hand and set it aside. “What did you have in mind?” I ask her, fluffing her hair around her shoulders.

She shrugs. “Could you curl it like you normally wear yours? I know my hair is naturally curly, but it’s not sleek and pretty like when you curl it.”

“Yeah, absolutely, I can do that.” It doesn’t take me long to do her hair and then she asks me to do her makeup too. I don’t think she
really
wants me to do it, but she knows it’ll make me feel better—
distract me
—to do it.

Once her hair and makeup is done, we both change into our dresses.

I whistle at hers. “Ryland is going to lose his mind,” I tell her honestly.

She wears a long-sleeve, gray, crop-top with zig-zag cut-outs in the chest and a high-waisted pencil skirt in the same material. Only a small amount of her midriff shows, but it’s enticing and sexy. Poor Ryland will have to shove the guys away from her.

She smiles at me. “You think so?”

“Yeah, of course. You’re gorgeous.”

Something I’ve learned about Elle is that she’s not used to being called beautiful. I can’t help but wonder what kind of home she grew up in, and if that’s why she was so nasty to me when we first met. But I never ask her about it. I figure if she wants to talk about it, she will.

“You look hot too.” She motions to my borrowed dress. 

“Thanks.” I grab a clutch and stuff my phone, ID, and some cash in it. “Let’s get out of here.”

She grins wickedly. “I thought you’d never say so. Let’s get into some trouble.”

Ryland gets suckered into being our DD so he drives the four of us to the club in his car—which is a hell of a lot nicer than Celine’s. 

Celine, Makenna, and I end up squished in the backseat, and by the time we make it to the club, we can’t wait to get out.

Emerald
is spelled out across the side of the building in an elegant script font, lit up in the same shade of green as its namesake.

As soon as the car is parked, the three of us tumble out and then spend a minute righting our dresses.

Makenna tugs on the top of hers and then nods her head appraisingly at everyone.

“We look hot as fuck,” she states.

She looks killer in her dress and I find myself envious of her perky breasts. Mine seem so small in comparison. 

She loops her arm through mine and says, “Let’s go find you a man, Grace. Once you fuck a hot stranger you’ll feel loads better.”

I snort as we head toward the line. “Are you speaking from experience?” 

“Of course.” She giggles and flips her long hair over one shoulder.

We get in line—unlike my experience with Bennett—and slowly make our way toward the front.

The bouncer takes one look at us in our skimpy dresses and lets us in.

“Ladies, try not to get into too much trouble,” Ryland warns as we make our way through the labyrinth of the club. “There’s only one of me and four of you.”

Celine cackles. “You worry too much, Ryland. I’m getting a drink, who’s with me?”

“I am.” I raise my hand like I’m in elementary school. I don’t normally drink, but tonight calls for alcohol and lots of it. 

Celine grabs my raised hand and starts pulling me through the club. Makenna follows and we stride up to the bar.

Celine leans across the bar top and signals the bartender. As soon as he notices her he makes his way over to us with an eager smile.

“What can I help you with today ladies?” He flips a lock of shaggy brown hair from his eyes.

Celine nods her head in my direction. “We’re out celebrating my friend’s new single status—and we want to get drunk. Give us your special.”

He chuckles and steps back. “You got it.”

I turn away from the bar and admire the club. It’s nice, surprisingly nice considering the college crowd, and the music is good so that’s always a plus.

“See any contenders?” Makenna asks, raising her voice to be heard above the noise.

I shake my head. I’m not opposed to finding a guy to dance with, but I’m not looking for one to take me home.

She eyes me and says, “Don’t make me choose one for you.”

Luckily, I’m saved from saying anything thanks to the arrival of our drinks.

I take it from the bartender and slurp it down. I don’t think it’s the kind of drink you’re meant to chug, but I
need
to get buzzed. I need to get out of my head and stop thinking so much. I lift my empty glass, signaling another, and slap some bills down on the bar.

“Damn, girl,” Celina comments, sipping on her drink. “You’re on a roll.”

The bartender makes my second drink and I drink it just as fast.

I can feel myself growing more relaxed. “I’m going to dance,” I announce.

I don’t wait for either girl to respond before I slip into the crowd.

Now to find someone to dance
with
.

I scour the crowd, looking for a guy to dance with that doesn’t look like a complete creep. 

I startle when I see someone I recognize. He’s dancing with another girl, but the alcohol makes me braver than normal. 

“Mind if I interrupt?” I put on my most flirtatious smile and bat my eyes.

Tanner’s eyes slide toward me and he nods approvingly. “Not at all.”

The girl protests feebly as he leaves her and comes to my side.

I haven’t talked to Tanner much—I was embarrassed by falling on him that first day, and then when Bennett mentioned that Tanner was talking about the incident, talking about
me
, well, I decided to stay away. But I haven’t been able to ignore the way he looks at me and now, tonight, he’s the exact right person I need. I don’t plan on taking this any further than dancing, but
he
doesn’t know that, and I want to feel desired. I know Tanner will do that. 

His blond hair is slightly damp with sweat, like he’s been here for a while, and hangs limply in his eyes. He has a sculpted face and a nice smile, but he’s not Bennett. He never has been. Maybe, if I hadn’t met Bennett before Tanner, I might’ve actually liked the guy, but I can’t bring myself to feel anything toward him.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” He wraps his hands around my waist and turns my back against the front of his body. He moves to the beat of the song and my hips begin to move on their own.

I lean my head against his shoulder. “I needed to get out.”

“I’d say I’m sorry about you and Bennett but I’m not,” he whispers in my ear. “The guy’s an asshole.”

I bristle at that but try to keep the bite from my tone. “No, he’s not.”

He chuckles. “You obviously don’t know him as well as you thought. The guy is a rapist.”

I flinch at that. I don’t want to believe it. I want to think that Sabrina was right—that this is just another set up, but frankly I’m confused and don’t know what to believe. Everything feels like a lie.

I move to the song, trying to drown out Tanner’s words, but they echo through my skull like a pinball. 

I finally wrench myself from his arms and shake my head. “I’m sorry,” I say, not meeting his eyes. “I can’t do this. I have to go.”

I push my way through the crowd and back to the bar, where I order another drink. I down it as fast as I did the others and then go in search of Ryland and Elle.

I find them on the dance floor and I yell above the noise. “I’m leaving. I’ll call a cab. You guys keep having fun.”

“What?” Elle’s face falls. “No, you can’t go. Tonight is all about you.”

Tears sting my eyes. “I
can’t
,” my voice cracks. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

“Grace,” she says softly, almost worriedly, and reaches for my arm. 

I move out of the way and leave before she can stop me.

My cab arrives quickly and I’m relieved to get out of there.

I stare at my reflection in the glass window and I wish I could un-see the tears on my cheeks, but they’re there, the physical presence of the scar on my heart.

“Hey, Michael.” I greet the player with a handshake. I’m shocked he wanted to come all the way to Boston to see me. I figured all the college players were laughing it up that I’d finally completely fucked myself over this time.

“Hey,” he says with an easy smile. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.” I close the door behind him. “I was surprised to hear from you,” I admit. “Do you want anything to drink?” I point my thumb over my shoulder to the refrigerator. 

“Nah.” He shakes his head and sits on the couch. “I wanted to see you.”

“Why?” I can’t stop myself from asking.

He shrugs. “Call me crazy, but I don’t think you did this.”

I breathe out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. It feels so fucking good to hear someone that’s
not
family say they believe me. 

“I didn’t,” I tell him, in case he needs to hear the words straight from me. “I’ve fucked a lot of women, I won’t deny that, but I never touched her.”

He nods like that’s enough for him. “Coach doesn’t think you did it, either. He yells at anyone that says anything bad about you.” I smile at that. “He sent me to help you.”

I snort. “Help me? I don’t think anyone can do anything to help me.” At this point the only person that can help me is myself and my sister—and we’re working on it, day by day. I just wish it wasn’t taking so fucking long.

Michael shrugs and raises his hands innocently. “Hey, I’ll do what I can to help.”

“Has Coach talked to Matthews?” I ask.

Michael shakes his head. “Don’t think so. If he did, I think he’d try to kill the bastard.” Michael clears his throat and sobers. “I know you’re getting a lot of hate right now.” Understatement of the century, considering I can’t leave my house without having things thrown at me and being called names. “But there are still people out there that believe in you.”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Bennett …” Sabrina says softly, appearing from the guestroom. She’s been staying here and working from her laptop, while also helping me in any way she can. She’s a fucking saint and the best sister anyone could ask for. “Have you seen this?”

My brows furrow together. “What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.” She starts to disappear back down the hall but I
know
something is up. Matthews has probably come out saying his daughter’s pregnant now with my demon offspring and it’s going to eat its way out of her vagina and kill her—
anything
to make people feel sorrier for him.

I jump up and hop over the back of her couch, stealing her phone from her hand.

“Hey,” she protests weakly, trying to grab it. 

It’s too late, though. I’ve already seen and it’s like someone stabbed a knife in my heart and twisted it. It’s picture of Grace at some club and she’s dancing with that douchebag Tanner. 

I think I’ve finally found someone I hate more than Coach Matthews.

I lift the phone, ready slam it in the wall but Sabrina grabs it from my hand. “Don’t even think about it,” she warns. “That’s
my
phone.” She holds tightly to the phone in case there’s any chance of me swiping it and breaking it out of spite. “There’s more,” she says even softer than before.