Play On (Game On 4)

“What are we supposed to do about the guilt?”

He gave me a small smile. “I never said I had all the answers.”

I closed my eyes, trying to slow my thoughts so I could focus on what he was saying. What he offered, what we were potentially offering each other, sounded like a friends with benefits deal. That wasn’t us though. That wasn’t what he meant or what we wanted, and it wouldn’t be as simple as he thought it would be.

“Stop. Thinking. Just for now. Please.”

My hands moved almost involuntarily to his back, and I leaned into him. “Okay. Just for now.”

His mouth met mine in an instant; everything I’d tried not to feel freed, pouring out of me into a kiss that felt as right as it did wrong. The softness of his lips, the tenderness of his touch and the way his tongue gently probed for entry forced my worries aside. My body sagged against his and I let his warmth fill me up and block out a little more of the chill inside me.

“Holy shit.”

The spell was broken with those words and Miguel and I broke apart to find Ethan and Tommy Salinger, staring at us.

This is what I get for living in the moment.

The horror on Tommy’s face stabbed at my insides and I pushed past Miguel and ran back inside, away from the looks of judgment. If I’d h

ad shoes on, I’d have run straight to my car and driven home, but instead I had to go back to the party I’d only just left and try to act as if nothing had happened.

Hard as I’d tried to fight it, something had happened. I’d let Miguel kiss me, I’d kissed him back. Not because we were emotional and needed each other; because we wanted to.

On my way inside, I scooped up my skates, trying to blink away tears, because crying did not fall into the category of “acting normal”.

Everyone would know about this by the end of the night, and I hadn’t even figured out what “this” was.

“Freya, wait!”

I barely heard it over the sound of the music. Ethan. I whirled around to face him.

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t say anything.”

Ethan’s eyes were softer than I’d expected. Of course, he’d never met Will so maybe he wouldn’t judge me so harshly, but he didn’t know me well enough to be the one chasing after me. He was a good guy, but we weren’t friends. Not yet.

“Slow down,” he said, taking my arm and pulling me over to the side of the room, a little way from the doors where the doormen eyed me suspiciously. “Are you okay?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Why is that the only question people ask me these days? I’m not okay, Ethan. I’m fucked up.”

He flinched, probably because cussing wasn’t my thing. He’d never heard me speak that way before.

“I didn’t follow you to be a pain in the ass. I followed you to calm you down. I don’t want to get involved; I just went outside with Tommy for a smoke. If you promise not to judge me for having a sneaky cigarette on a night out, I won’t judge you for what I saw. Deal?”

His attempt at lightening my mood worked, and I nodded, relaxing a little. “Deal.”

I was about to offer him a drink when the doormen fled outside. I felt the colour drain from my cheeks as Ethan and I exchanged a panicked look and ran out after them.

Miguel had Tommy pinned up against the wall; not an easy thing to do since Tommy was at least a foot taller than Miguel. I’d never seen Miguel so angry; his eyes blazed with rage and his hands shoved against Tommy’s chest, slamming him into the wall again. The doormen grabbed Miguel and pulled him away, and Tommy made a hasty retreat back into the disco while Miguel struggled to get free.

“You need to go home. Now,” one of the doormen said, looking at Miguel before turning to me and adding, “Get him out of here.”

My mouth opened and closed, totally lost for words at what I’d witnessed.

“Their stuff is still inside,” Ethan said. “Can we at least go in and get it?”

“You go. These two are staying out here.”

I flicked my eyes back to Miguel as one of the doormen escorted Ethan inside, and the other reluctantly let Miguel go and went back to his position. He glared as he walked by, as if this was somehow my fault.