The Game Series (9 page)

I've checked my cell obsessively since Monday. It's Wednesday, and I haven't heard a thing from Pearce. If he was telling the truth, a week from now I'll be looking into his pitiful eyes.

And that scares me.

I don't want him here, and there's only so much longer I can pretend and not tell the girls exactly what's happening. I don't want to keep it from them, but there isn't much I can do. If he isn't coming, then there's no need to tell them the gritty details of my life in Brooklyn. If he does come
... Then it might be too late.

I hate not knowing. I hate the uncertainty that encompasses my brother in a thick cloud. Nothing with him is ever definite, except drugs. But then again, when is anything with anyone ever definite? It's not. Not ever.

I swallow my sigh, tapping my pen against the table. I glance at the clock for the thousandth time in ten minutes. The second hand is moving at a snail's pace, zero point zero miles per hour, it seems.

For the first time in my life, I actually want to see Braden. When he's around I have something to focus on, the challenge, the game. The need to win the game he doesn't even know is being played takes over.

But, does that compare me to my brother? Playing someone for your own satisfaction?

No. No, it's different. Meggy said the plan is for Braden, to make him a better person. I don't get satisfaction from it. Just frustration.

But it's still two lives merging into one. I'm sitting here, in class, the bad girl from Brooklyn, yet when I walk out of the door and see him, I'll be the California college good girl.

Finally the bell rings, and I grab all my stuff, all but running from the classroom. The air in it seems stifling, heavy with the silence from my brother. Every thought I've had in the last ten minutes swarms around in my mind, over and over and over.

I feel dizzy. I can't breathe, too much is creeping up on me. My brother and the events of the last year are creeping up on me from three thousand miles away. I put a hand over my eyes, determined to battle the hallways and get outside to the fresh air, to where I can breathe.

Two arms grab me, and in my panicked state, I scream. I'm pressed against a hard body and I recognize the woody smell. Braden. My hand not holding my books grips his shirt. I need something to ground me. It's an almost desperate move, but I don't care.

“Sssh,” he whispers. “I've got you. You're okay.”

I close my eyes and breathe deeply as he wraps his arms around me tightly. I bury my face into his chest. Grounding. Centering. I remember the breathing from the yoga classes I did in senior year of high school and chant the instructions in my mind, breathing in deeply, breathing out deeply.

The noise around us dies down, and I realize that I have no idea how long I've been standing in Braden's arms.

“Okay, Angel?” he asks softly.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I think so.”

He runs a hand through my hair, his fingers tugging lightly at knots in my curls. “I didn't mean to scare you a minute ago. You looked like you were about to faint.”

“So you thought you'd come riding in like a knight in shining armor?” That thought is amusing.

“Something like that.” He chuckles. “What's up?”

“Oh, nothing,” I dismiss it and pull back, smiling up at him.

“Don't lie to me, Maddie. I can see in your pretty green eyes that something is bothering you.” He runs his thumb down the side of my face. I fight to keep my eyes open. “Talk to me.”

“It's just my brother.” I look down.

“I remember you saying you don't get along.”

“That's an understatement.” I snort. “He mentioned something about coming here.... And I.... I don't want him to. I don't want him to come here.”

“So tell him.”

“It's not like that. You don't just
tell
Pearce things.”

“Then what do you do?”

“It doesn't matter.” My eyes flick up to him and back down again. “It doesn't matter.”

Braden cups my chin, forcing my face upwards, but I keep my eyes trained downwards.

“Maddie, look at me.” I shake my head. “Maddie. Please.”

The tenderness in his voice cuts me and I break, looking back up at him. “What?”

“It does matter, okay?” he says softly. “It always matters.”

“No, it doesn't.”

“Why won't you talk to me?”

Because when you're like this, soft and caring, it's hard to remember that I hate you and this is a game. “I just can't talk about it, Braden.”

He sighs. “Why won't you let me in? Let me help you.”

Because you're the first person outside of the girls to actually care about me and show it since the day she died – and caring isn't good for anyone. Not when everything you think you know is a game.

~

“Why?” I look at the roller-skates in front of me. “Why? Why? Why?”

“I bet Megan thinks she's fucking hilarious,” Lila grumbles, looking at the skates with the same disdain I am.

“Why did we even let her organize this?” I mutter.

“I have no idea, but I'm never doing it again.”

“I am so with you there.”

Not only are they roller-skates, they're pink. Flippin' pink.

I do not do pink.

“Come on, you two!” Ryan skates up to us as if he's been doing it his whole life, which he probably has.

“Uhh.” Lila's still frozen in place, staring at the skates.

“Really, babe.” Ryan skates up to her. “It's not that hard.”

“Damn, Ryan,” she huffs. “How many times do you think I've ever skated in Washington? Really?”

“I kinda figured everyone had at some point.” He looks at me. “Don't tell me – you've never skated either, right, Maddie?”

“That would be correct,” I answer, finally looking up from the skates. “It's not really an 'in' thing in Brooklyn, funnily enough.”

“Damn city girls.” He shakes his head.

“Ah, they aren't that bad.” Braden skates backwards down the sidewalk towards us.

“Fucking show-off,” Lila mutters.

“I heard that, Lila.”

“You were supposed to, Braden.”

He stops in front of me. I look up at him. “What?”

“You've actually never skated before?”

“No.” I fold my arms across my chest. “No. Never.”

“Come on.” He takes my hands. “Put them on and try it. I promise its fun. Just try it, once.”

I look at the skates and back to him. He has a pleading, hopeful look on his face. “Will you stop with the puppy dog eyes?”

“Cross my heart.” He crosses his heart.

I sigh and sit down. “Fine.” I grab the skates and after taking my shoes off, I slip my feet in, only to fumble with the confusing buckles afterward.

Braden sighs and shakes his head. “Come here.” He bends down at the waist and tightens them all for me, snapping them into place.

He grabs my hands, hoisting me up, and I squeak as I roll forwards and straight into him. I put my hands on his chest to steady myself, ignoring the heavy pounding of my heart.

“You're fine.” He smirks, amused.

“Yep,” I reply. “I'm fine.”

“Let's go.” He grins and takes my hand, moving back from me.

I look forward and find Ryan pulling Lila along. Her feet are shoulder-width apart, and her legs are shaking. She looks a bit like a newborn foal trying to walk for the first time, and I giggle silently, knowing I probably look the same.

She glances over her shoulder at me and mouths “
help me.”
I shrug helplessly as Braden moves a little faster and I jolt forwards.

“Okay, slow, slow, slow!” I protest, waving my free arm in the air.

“Oh my god, Maddie,” he groans. “Really?”

“Yes! I've never done this before, ever.” I grunt. “Like,
ever,
Braden.”

“Fuck this,” Ryan snaps. “Crash course!” He skates around Lila and grips her waist before pushing her along the sidewalk. She screams out loud, and her hands go to where Ryan's are on her waist to steady herself.

“Ryan, you asshole!” I hear her shout before they disappear from view. I laugh and bend over at the side. Braden lets go of my hand and-

“No, no, no, Braden! Don't you dare!” I try to turn, and I feel his hands on my waist, his breath on my ear.

“Crash course, Angel.”

“No-” My protest turns to a scream as we shoot off down the concrete the way Lila and Ryan did. “Oh my god, oh my god.” I want to shut my eyes but no, that's not a good idea.

My heart is hammering against my chest, and I find myself gripping Braden's hands, my fingers slipping between his.

“It's not that bad.” He laughs into my ear.

“That depends on which side you're on,” I reply, my back going stiff. “Braden, I want to stop.”

“No.” He slides one of his arms around me and pulls me to him so my back is flush against his chest, both of our arms wrapping my stomach. “See? I've got you. It's fine, beautiful.”

“This is crazy. Never again is Megan organizing a date.”

“Yeah, she got a good one with this.” He laughs again, and I shake my head.

“No, no, she didn't. This is terrible.”

“Really? I would have thought that being up against me would be a good thing.”

“Maybe it would be if I could actually focus on the fact I'm pressed against your body.”

“Well, then.” He spins so he's in front of me, skating backwards.

“Braden, you can't see where we're going!”

“That's your job.”

“Oh my god.” I try looking over his shoulder, but I can't. He's too tall, dammit. “You're too tall!”

“Then you just have to trust me.” His lips take mine in a searing kiss, and I gasp inwardly, grabbing hold of him tightly. His hands find my waist and pull my hips against him, our speed slowing slightly. He goes to deepen the kiss, his tongue tracing between my lips, and I nip his bottom lip before I open to him. My fingers tangle in his hair as our tongues meet, starting an intricate dance of want.

For a second, I forget the game. I forget the fake relationship. I forget the fact I'm on rollerskates and Braden isn't-

“Oomph!” Braden grunts, hitting the grass. I laugh, rolling off him.

“I told you we didn't know where we were going!” I say through my laughter, blades of grass tickling my ears.

“Hey.” He rolls towards me, propping himself up on his elbow. His hair flops down towards my face, casting little shadows over my face. “I totally knew where we were going until you distracted me.”

“
I
distracted
you
? Oh no, mister. You kissed me, not the other way around.”

“And I didn't hear any complaints about that.”

“Maybe that's because there weren't any.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let's try again.”

I arch into him as he presses himself against me, his tongue slipping straight between my lips. I grip his hair again, holding his mouth against mine. He runs a hand down my side, igniting a blazing trail of goose-pimples beneath my clothing. My leg bends, leaning against his hip, and his hand finds my thigh, holding it underneath. His fingers stroke and probe the bare skin gently, and I press myself closer to him, on fire everywhere he's touched me.

He pushes his hips into me and I can feel him against my other thigh, hard and ready. I whimper deep in my throat, want for the guy I hate overtaking any other feelings in my body. It builds up, climbing higher and higher, and I know if we weren't in public there's no way I wouldn't end what he started.

I'm half considering it, and we're in the middle of a park.

His teeth graze my bottom lip as he pulls away. My eyes open to a mass of cloudy, electric blue need in his. He breathes out heavily, his eyes fixated on mine.

“Maddie, I-”

“There you are! Oh, shit!” Lila calls. “I didn't see anything. I promise. Carry on. I'm leaving now.”

I giggle and rest my forehead against Braden's shoulder, the moment between us broken.

“There's nothing to see, Lila,” Braden calls to her. “Just a kiss.”

“Oh. Get up then!”

We both laugh, and Braden stands up, offering me his hands to help me up. I wrap my fingers around his, and he tugs me up, surprising me with another kiss before pulling me along after him through the park.

I swallow and let him guide me. The game is quickly reaching levels I'm not ready for.

There are too many levels in this game, and I'm not ready for the one it's climbing to. That level has a big fat fuckin' neon sign declaring the game over, and reality starting. Reality, with Maddie?

Reality, with anyone?

When I was six, I assumed I'd grow up and marry Meggy, like all little kids do. You marry your favorite person, and at six that's your best friend, right? Yeah. What a laugh.

Now, Meggy is my little sister. She's the one person I'd go to hell for. I'd take a bullet for her, I'd kill for her, and I will protect her until she doesn't need it anymore – and I'll probably do it even then.

Saturday marks two weeks since this game started, and with every day that passes I get to know Maddie a little more. She's guarded. There are a lot of secrets behind those pretty green eyes, despite how revealing they are for her emotions. I want to know what those secrets are, because despite it all, I'm starting to fucking care about her.

I'm starting to care about the sadness that appears and the wall she puts up whenever her brother is mentioned. Ever since we spoke about him two days ago, she's been more and more fidgety. She keeps checking her phone, the clock, her phone, the clock. It's a repeated cycle that is driving me fucking insane because I have no idea what's going on.

“Update?” Ryan sticks his head in my door.

“Getting there.” I don't look up from the TV where I'm playing – but not focusing on – the Xbox.

“How close is getting there? Two weeks left.”

“Just over.”

“What?”

“Just over two weeks.” I take off a zombie's head. “Don't sweat it, man. I'm fine.”

“I could tell that from the show you two put on in the park.”

“Fuck off,” I reply, a protective streak suddenly sparking in my body. “It's gotta be done, you know that.”

“Alright. Whatever, Braden.”

My door clicks shut, and I shake my head. Megan's words come back to me.
Decide if Maddie is something with a pulse or something more than that.

I shoot several zombies in a row. Eh. What the fuck does she know anyway?

I die. I drop the controller on the floor and huff, lying back on my bed. Stupid game. Stupid challenge.

I hear a light knock at my door. “Come in.” I raise my head from the pillow, and Maddie pushes the door open, her arms full of books. I jump up and take them from her, letting her shut the door.

“Afternoon.” She smiles and takes her books back.

“Good afternoon, Angel.” I smile back at her, bending for a quick kiss. “I didn't realize you were bringing the library with you. If I knew, I would have met you there instead.”

“Oh, ha ha ha. Funny.” She drops the books on my desk. “I still have to do that English paper.”

“Which one?”

“On the themes of love in Much Ado.”

“You haven't done it yet?” I raise an amused eyebrow.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I've been somewhat distracted lately. You would know all about that, Braden.”

I grin and walk to her, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. I push my face into her hair, still grinning. “My fault?”

“I'd say it's a high possibility,” she murmurs in response. “So now I have to write it.”

“Really?” I move my hand across her stomach, her hip, and leave it to rest at the top of her thigh. “You're here, in my room, and you want to do schoolwork?”

“Braden!” She slaps my hand. “Yes. It is possible, you know, to be in a room with a girl and not have sex with them.”

“But it's not possible with you.” I breathe into her ear and brush my lips along her lobe, placing soft kisses down her neck. She shivers.

“Braden,” she warns.

“Fine.” I sigh. “I'll just sit here and watch you, then.”

“Are you actually going to do that?” She spins in my arms and looks up at me.

I drop my head and capture her lips, cupping her ass and holding her to me. I suck on her bottom lip, putting my hand in her hair. She grips my waist, and I dip her back slightly, deepening the kiss. Her hands slide to my back, her fingers spreading.

My dick hardens, and I walk backwards, pulling her towards my bed. She falls back without any resistance. One of her hands finds the hem of my shirt and slips under it, her palm hot against my bare skin. The urge to rip her clothes off is too much, way too much.

I pull my lips from her mouth and ghost them along her jaw, stroking her thigh at the same time. She tilts her head back, and I kiss down her neck, my tongue flicking out at the tender spot where her neck meets her shoulder. She moans, and I carry on exploring the top of her body with my mouth, kissing along the tops of her boobs.

My tongue traces inside the cup of her bra, her skin hot and soft.

“Braden,” she whispers in a breathless voice.

“Maddie,” I mumble against her skin, my breathing hard. Her chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, her heart pounding.

I slide my hand inside her skirt, my fingers slipping to find her underwear. She wears a thong.
Fuck.

Her breath hitches and with my thumb gliding across the smooth material of her underwear, I pull my lips from her skin and meet her eyes.

“Angel?” I say softly.

Her eyes are full of heat, and she grips my hair tighter, moving her hips into me. Her movements answer my question, and I drop my mouth to her jaw, pressing little kisses to her.

I move my hand under the fabric and my finger slips inside her, gliding through the wetness easily. Her muscles tighten at the invasion, and her fingers dig into my back. My thumb creeps up, finding her clit, and I rub it in slow, gentle circles. Another finger inside her and her hips buck.

She moans again and I cover her mouth with mine, swallowing it. Her tongue runs along my top lip and I follow it with mine. I sweep the inside of her mouth, stroking her tongue in a similar way to how my fingers are stroking her below.

Her breath catches. Her muscles tighten.

I rub harder, move faster, kiss deeper.
She cries out my name before she relaxes, her muscles limp and her breathing fast. I end the kiss and remove my hand, pulling away with regret.

Her eyes open slowly, the sparkle in them a contrast to the flushed red hue of her cheeks. Her hair is fanned out across my white sheets, her lips slightly parted.

And she looks fucking beautiful.

“What
.... Was that?” she breathes out.

“That, Angel, was an orgasm,” I reply, grinning at her.

“I know that.” If she could, she'd slap me now. “But where did it come from?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” I run my nose along her cheek, and she nods. “I've wanted to do that since I saw you.”

Another truth.

She laughs silently and turns her face, kissing me softly. “Oh. Are you happy now?”

“Very,” I murmur against her lips. “Are you?”

“Mm,” she murmurs back. “I think so.”

“Good.” I kiss her once more and brush some hair from her forehead. “Now you can do your English work.”

She laughs – out loud this time – and smiles. “Give me a minute.”

Maddie closes her eyes, and I roll to the side of her, pulling her body into me while she recovers from her orgasm.

I know three more things.

Maddie Stevens is fucking beautiful after an orgasm.

I know I'd like to put that look on her face many, many more times.

And last, her apple-smelling hair drives me fucking insane.

For real.