The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3) - Page 81

“Is there any good way to take bossy?”

“Fuck,” he curses, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m saying this all wrong. What I mean is, you’re a leader and a lot of guys are intimidated by that.”

“Are you intimidated by that?” I don’t know why I ask that, but I’m insanely curious of his answer.

He grins. “Hell no. I fucking love it. You don’t take anyone’s bullshit, and I find that insanely attractive.”

I press my lips together. I want to ask him if that means he finds me attractive, but I’m scared to push my luck. If he hasn’t realized I’ve developed real feelings for him I’d like to keep it that way. Something tells me that anyone that falls in love with Bennett gets their heartbroken, and I don’t want to be added to that list.

We stop for the night around seven o’ clock. We got stuck in traffic thanks to a nasty wreck so we still have a good six hours to drive tomorrow.

“You can shower first,” Bennett tells me, opening the door to our room and dropping our bags on the floor. “I’m going to go grab us something to eat from that restaurant next door. I’ll be right back.”

I nod as he immediately ducks back out the door.

I don’t hesitate to get in the shower. I didn’t have time this morning since I was already behind and I don’t know why, but sitting in a car all day makes me feel gross. I turn the shower on and let the room steam up. Bennett insisted on us staying in a nice hotel, and I’m thankful for that. I drop my clothes on the floor and step under the spray. I feel my coiled muscles instantly relax and I sigh. I’m glad Bennett asked if I was okay to stop and didn’t insist on continuing down the road. I don’t think I could’ve lasted another six hours in the car. Luckily, when we were growing up we usually flew everywhere when we went on vacation, but on those rare occasions when we drove, I was always the one complaining. Being cooped up in a car never bothered my brothers, though.

I step out of the shower and grab one of the fluffy white towels embroidered with the hotel logo and dry off before wrapping it around my body.

I stupidly didn’t bring a change of clothes into the bathroom with me but I was too eager to get in the shower. I open the door and find that our bags are no longer right there, which means Bennett is back.

“I got you a cheeseburger. I hope that’s okay,” he calls from the bedroom area.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I pad in there and find him standing over the bed pulling Styrofoam boxes out of a paper bag.

He looks up when he hears me and makes a strangled sound.

I don’t move. I don?

??t think I even breathe.

“Grace,” he whispers my name like it’s the only word he knows.

I feel like everything between us has been leading to this moment. Like we’re at a crossroads and one choice will define how everything ends. I always make the safe choice. Always. But fuck it, the safe choice is boring, and I’m so sick of it.

I drop the towel.

Bennett makes a strangled sound and he swallows thickly. He doesn’t look away, and his eyes … They’re burning with a fire. He doesn’t move toward me, though, and I realize he’s giving me the choice. The choice to pick up my towel and pretend this never happened or the choice to grab the reins and take what I want.

I take a step forward and he doesn’t move away. I take that as a good sign.

Another step and then another until I’m right in front of him. My hands slide up around his neck, tangling into the hair that’s grown slightly shaggy since I first saw him.

“What are you doing?” he asks, breathing heavily.

“I want this,” I tell him, sliding my hands down his chest. “I want you.”

“Why?” he asks. “Why me? I’m not good for you.”

“I trust you,” I tell him. “I like you.” More than I should. “I want this to be you.”

He shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “There are plenty of other guys that would be so much better for you, Grace. I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I want you.” I plead with my eyes for him to understand. “How can I regret something I want so bad?”

He still looks unsure. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I won’t,” I promise.

Tags: Micalea Smeltzer Us Romance
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