The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3)

I tell her it runs in the family.

“Here, have some food.” He shoves the plate with the cheese fries on it over to me. “They have the best food here, trust me.”

I pick up a fry and take a bite. “Mmm, you’re right.”

The waitress comes back with the plates, napkins, and Bennett’s second beer and quickly leaves the table.

I grab a plate and pile some cheese fries on it and pour out a little of the ranch.

“Have some nachos too,” Bennett says, forking over a bunch onto my plate. “You guys want some?” he asks Elle and Ryland.

“We’re good with these,” Ryland says, picking up a fry and popping it in his mouth.

“Cool, more for me.” Bennett shrugs and shovels more nachos into his mouth. “Eat.” He points at me.

I laugh. I hadn’t realized I was staring at him. I take a bite of the nachos and swear my stomach sighs with happiness. I really have to get better about taking the time to eat between classes. It’s hard when a class is on one side of campus and the next is all the way on the other. Since I’m an overachiever—according to my brothers, at least—I loaded up on as many classes as I could possibly take. I’m regretting that decision now.

“So,” Bennett begins, “how are you liking college life so far?”

I shrug. “It’s more adultier than I expected.”

He chuckles. “Adultier, is that even a word?”

“I just made it one.” I shrug, dipping a fry in ranch.

“How is it more adultier than you thought?” He takes a sip of beer to hide his smile.

“Well, for starters, I have to do my own laundry.”

He laughs. “Laundry?”

“I hate doing laundry,” I reason. “It’s just time consuming, and when I went yesterday, the room was full so I had to wait for someone to finish before I could even start. It took my whole afternoon. Luckily, I brought my laptop with me so I could work on my paper.”

“You already have homework?” He raises a brow.

I laugh. “Yes, this is college, you know? Oh, wait,” I whisper under my breath, “I bet you had one of your fuck bunnies do yours.”

His lips quirk up slightly on side. “Touché.”

Now it’s my turn to question him. “I’ve heard rumors, but I want to hear it straight from you. Why are you on campus? I don’t know much about hockey, but it seems odd that you’d be doing your rehabilitation with your college coach. Isn’t that what the coach on your professional team is for? And if not, surely they could’ve hired someone to get you back into shape? Frankly, I’m not buying what I’m hearing.”

Shutters come down over his eyes. “Whatever you’ve heard is true,” he says.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Believe me if you want or don’t want. It doesn’t matter to me.” He looks away and finishes his beer. He immediately signals for another.

I’ve struck a nerve, and now I’m desperate to uncover the truth.

One way or the other, Bennett will tell me.

Maybe not tonight, but someday.

“Fucking hell,” I curse and crumble up the magazine in the grocery store checkout line.

“You’re going to have pay for that,” the clerk informs me.

I give the pimple-faced teenager the middle finger salute.