The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3)

Standing here is so wrong. So wrong. I’d be embarrassed to know he was watching me like this, and yet still I cannot move.

He turns then and I stifle a gasp by biting my lip. My whole body clenches, and a shiver runs down my spine.

He’s beautiful. He’d probably sneer at me if I ever said that out loud, but it’s the truth.

I lick my lips and I stare at him for only a few seconds longer, before I force myself away. I run back to the safety of my room and dive under the covers. Now that I’m away from his potent presence, I feel ashamed of my actions. He had no idea I was there and I was staring like some kind of pervert. But even with my shame, I still feel so incredibly turned on. My body is tight all over with the need for a release I’ve never really had.

“Hey.”

I squeak at the sound of his voice. He saw me.

I pop my head up from beneath the covers, pretending to just be waking up. He stands in the doorway in a pair of loose shorts, his chest glistening with water and his hair damp.

Fuck, he’s way too good-looking for his own good.

“Good, you’re up,” he says. “Wanna go get breakfast?”

“Sure.” My voice is high-pitched and not at all natural.

He raises a brow. “You okay?”

“Just peachy.” I mean, it’s not like I stared at you naked or anything. “Mind if I shower first?”

“Go ahead.” He peeks in the bathroom and pops back in the room. “I’ll grab you a towel and stuff. I forgot I never stocked that bathroom.”

“Cool. Thanks,” I squeak again.

He looks at me with concern and then shrugs and walks away.

I breathe a sigh of relief. He doesn’t know—if he did, he would’ve said something. Bennett can’t keep quiet about anything.

I shower as quickly as possible and then we’re out the door with our bags in hand.

Bennett drives a few blocks over from his apartment to a small restaurant hidden between two larger buildings. The place is quaint and doesn’t seem to belong in the bustling city, but I like it.

“They have the best waffles,” Bennett tells me, sliding his menu to the end of the table.

I slide mine over too. “Waffles sounds good.”

He grins. “So, what do you think of Boston?”

“I’ve been here before. I like it. No place beats home for me, though.” I shrug.

He crosses his hands together. “Home is always special, isn’t it?”

I nod as a waitress comes over to take our order. Bennett and I order the same special and both of us get waters to drink.

Bennett runs his fingers over his face, and I can see how tired he looks.

“I’m sorry about your coach,” I say. I might not know what’s really going on, but it’s obviously pretty bad. I hate that Bennett is so torn up about it—he’s a pretty carefree guy, so this is really eating at him for it to be so obvious on his face.

He shrugs like it’s not as big of a deal as it is. “Thanks again for coming with me.” He slides the peppershaker back and forth from hand to hand. “I … It meant a lot.”

I give him a small smile. “I’m glad me being here made you feel better.” And I’m glad you know I wasn’t staring at your dick this morning. The thought alone brings color to my cheeks.

“Why are you blushing?” he asks wish a slight chuckle.

“No reason.” I look away and up at the TV that plays a news morning show.