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The Love Game by Hart, Emma (32)

Chapter Thirty-Five – Maddie

 

The urge to rip down the multicolored poster on the wall is almost stifling. It feels.... wrong.... to have it up there. Especially since it should be coming down anyway. After all....

Challenge complete.

I'm pretty sure he's in love with me, and we definitely had sex. Very good sex. Done. I should be laughing with the girls, drinking a celebratory bottle of whatever we want and remembering all the times. Instead, I'm remembering every touch of his skin on mine, every whispered word and how he held me so closely, how he looked at me as if I'm the only girl in the world.

To him, I could be.

The problem.... He's pretty much the only guy in the world. And I never planned on that, so I'm pretty screwed.

I never planned on him being so different to Pearce. I never planned on everything I thought I knew about him, all my pre-conceived notions about how he should act being stripped away and leaving him completely bare like a blank canvas. He took that blank canvas and painted it into something so beautiful, all without realizing it.

He also destroyed every idea I had about love. Three weeks. That's all it took for me to fall in love with Braden Carter. How did it change so quickly? He's gone from nothing to everything.

Like Pearce did for Abbi.

At what point do I start losing myself the way she did? At what point am I in too deep?

Am I already in too deep?

Braden is not Pearce.

Goddamn my asshole of a brother! I clench my fist and punch the pillow instead of ripping down the poster like I want to. I want to rip it into a thousand pieces and yell at the girls. I want to yell at them that it's over, the game is over and I lost. I lost because the loser falls in love, and I did that.

How can I do what they expect and not hurt myself in the process? I can't.

I have a week to figure out how to explain that I fell in love with the person I was definitely not supposed to.

Shit.

The dorm door bangs open, announcing the girls back from their Starbucks run.

“Update,” Megan demands, handing me my coffee and muffin. So what if I had one earlier. I totally get the comfort food thing now.

I settle onto my bed. “Same as it was last weekend,” I lie.

“Really?” Lila's eyebrows shoot up. “You guys didn't have sex?”

I shake my head. “No sex. Almost, but not quite.”

“Interesting,” Megan mumbles, kneeling next to me and tracing her finger down the poster. “He's in love with you.”

I drink my coffee to hide the crazy stop-start thing my heart just did. Yeah, I suspected it, but hearing his lifelong best friend say it is a little different.

“You think?” I look around the room.

“Oh yeah,” Kay agrees. “That guy has gone three weeks without sex, Maddie. He's fuckin' head over heels for you, baby girl.”

I smile. “Mission half accomplished, then.” Mission accomplished.

“Now just the other half.” Megan sits back down.

“Seven days,” Lila says softly. “Can you do it?”

I look at her. Her dark eyes are focused on me and full of questions. “I can do it.”

“And you're not in love with him?”

“Not even close.” Lies.

 

~

 

I sweep my hair up, securing it with a band, and yawn as I lean against the wall near the main campus doors. Meet me here at eight a.m., he said. Damn eight a.m. I yawn again and look up, smoothing my hair.

He's casually leaning against a tree across the sidewalk, his bright blue eyes trained on me. His hands are in his pockets, and his lips are curled up slightly. Damn. He is gorgeous – there's no doubt about it. And he's mine, a little voice in my head reminds me.

I fold my arms across my chest and stare him down, letting my hair hang over my shoulder. His eyebrow quirks, and I fight my smile. Him and his silly games. From one game to another....

Braden straightens and walks towards me. When he reaches me he looks down, sweeping some stray hair from my eyes.

“Good morning, Angel,” he says softly.

“Is it? I don't see a coffee in your hand,” I tease.

He smirks and leans in, touching his lips against mine. I stand on tiptoes, and my body presses against his as I kiss him back. I taste chocolate chips.

“You've already been to Starbucks,” I accuse, narrowing my eyes.

He chuckles. “You've turned me into an addict.”

“Where's my coffee?”

“In Starbucks,” he replies. “Let's sit in instead of standing out here.”

I nod. “I can't believe you got me up at this time and didn't have coffee in your hand immediately.”

“Hey, you.” He sweeps an arm around my waist and pulls me against him. “You're grumpy before you get your coffee, aren't you?” He's grinning.

“You should know this.” I trail my finger up his chest. “Didn't you discover that the last two days?”

“Mmm.” He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth. “And what a weekend it was.”

I halfheartedly slap his arm. “I want my coffee.” I pout.

He kisses me again and tucks me into his side. “Come on then, grumpy.”

I settle my arm around his waist and poke his side. “I'm not grumpy.”

“You're always grumpy.” He kisses my head.

“Psssh.” I shake my head, and he laughs.

Braden reaches for the door and shoves it open. The smell of coffee hits me full force, and I breathe it in, sighing in happiness.

“Nice to know coffee makes you feel good on a morning,” Braden mutters.

“If you'd been there when I woke up this morning, you could have been the feel good,” I mutter back, silently laughing to myself.

His step falters, and I bite my lip, amused.

“Did you just say that?”

I look up at him wide-eyed and blink twice. “Well it wasn't the barista that said it.”

“One weekend of hot sex and you've turned into an animal,” he whispers in my ear.

“Not quite.” I giggle. “I was merely making a statement.”

“Maybe tomorrow morning?” he asks hopefully.

“Maybe.” I laugh.

As he orders our coffees, I ignore the barista's evil looks in my direction and curl in closer to Braden. His arm tightens around my waist, and he carries the tray she gives him in one hand. Ignoring her flirty glances, he leads me over to the plush sofas we were sitting on last week, laying the tray on the table and dropping us both onto the sofa.

“Sofa this week,” he mutters.

I laugh and swing my legs over his, resting my head against his shoulder. He passes me my cup, and I wrap my hands around it, sipping it slightly. “That's better.” I sigh, feeling the warmth from the hot drink slipping down my throat.

“So....” Braden begins after a few moments, resting his hand on my thigh. “Have you, er, heard from your brother?”

“No,” I say softly. “Not a thing. I spoke to Dad when we got back yesterday night, and he hasn't seen him since he left Brooklyn to come here. I... I think I want to care, but I don't know if I can. Does that make me a terrible person?”

“No, Angel, God no.” His lips brush my forehead. “He put you through a lot, and sometimes, family or not, you have to say goodbye to people.”

“I hate it because we used to be so close. I remember helping Mom in the garden. Granted, Pearce was more of a hindrance than a help, but it was something that happened every year. We'd all go swimming once a week at the local pool, dinner... Then after what happened, it all kind of.... disappeared.”

“It's okay to miss him.”

“I don't know if I do. I don't know if I miss him or if I miss the memories. Maybe it's just the person he used to be that I miss.” I look at a spot on the wall. “I don't know who he is anymore. Maybe that's why a part of me finds it hard to care. I guess I lost my brother the same day I lost my Mom and most of my Dad.”

I sigh and rest my coffee on my legs. Letting it out feels good. I know I have to let go. I know, after three years, if I ever want to move on with my life I have to put it all behind me as best as I can. Mom will always be in my heart, but as long as I hold my brother there too, I'll never move on. I'll never live.

“The thing with memories is, they never die. You can keep them and relive them, and that's okay because they're the happy ones,” Braden muses. “Like the ones we make. Just replace the bad memories with ours.”

I smile and lean my head back up to look at him. “I'll try to do that.”

“And while you're trying, we'll make even more.” He smiles back.

It's strange to have someone understand you.

 

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