The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3)

“Dad.” I sigh. “I didn’t kiss him, and even if I did, there’d be nothing wrong with that,” I say softly. “I’m grown up now. You have to realize that eventually. You’re not this hard on Dean or Lincoln.”

He’s quiet, and then in a small voice that breaks my heart, he says, “But, Gracie, you’re my little girl—my princess. I know you’re grown up now, but all I see is a little girl that still needs her daddy.”

I bite my lip. “Dad, I still need you. I’ll always need you. You just … have to take a step back and let me explore the world on my own. I’ll always come back.”

“I know.” He takes a deep breath. “I love you. We all miss you.”

“Love you too, Dad. Tell Mom and Linc I love them too.”

“I will.”

“Bye,” I say and hang up, just in time, too.

“Grace!”

I look up from my phone and see Bennett running toward me.

I wave and stay seated. He comes to a stop in front of me, and I glare at him. He winces. “You already know about the magazine, don’t you?”

“My dad just called and chewed me out,” I explain.

“Shit.” He sits down beside me. “I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “It’s okay.”

“I have a plan, though. One I need your help with.”

I give him a speculative look. “What could you possibly need my help for?”

He looks around at the various people strolling along campus. Several people look at us and whisper. I’m learning that Bennett draws attention wherever he goes.

“Come to my dorm. We can talk in private.”

“You’re staying in a dorm?”

He shrugs. “It was part of the deal.”

“If I go with you to your dorm aren’t people only going to talk more?” I argue.

“People will always talk, but I don’t want anyone overhearing what I have to say.”

I wrinkle my nose. “This sounds dangerous. You’re not going to cut me up into a million pieces in your bathtub, are you?”

He cracks a smile and holds up a finger. “One, I don’t have a bathtub.” He lifts another finger. “Two, I thought we’d established that I’m not a killer. What’s your obsession with that anyway?”

“Better safe than sorry,” I argue.

“True.” He stands. “So, my dorm?”

I sigh and look around. I know I should tell him no and head to the food court like I’d originally been doing before my dad called, but I know the curiosity will kill me if I don’t go.

“Sure.” I finally agree. “Lead the way.” I swish my arm through the air.

Bennett grins, pleased to have finally worn me down. “It’s this way.” He nods with his head to the right, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. He’s probably loaded with money—at least, with my understanding of professional athletes—but he dresses like a bum. I’d love to get ahold of him and show him that there’s more in the world to wear than ripped jeans and old t-shirts that have been washed so many times they’re practically see-through. Although, those shirts give an excellent view of his muscular chest and stomach, so maybe I’m jumping the gun.

Bennett leads me up the steps of the dorm and swipes his keycard.

“Please tell me you have a single,” I whisper-hiss as I follow him to the elevator. He chuckles, his eyes twinkling, and I smack his arm. “That’s not why I was asking. Get your head out of the gutter. Pig,” I groan as we step into the elevator.