The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3)

Elle nods at my bed, holding out a coffee from our favorite shop. I take the cup from her and look beside me in bed.

“You have to be kidding me,” I mutter.

Bennett’s stretched out beside me, fast asleep with his arm around my waist. I’m going to blame my raging hangover for my oversight in that little detail.

I can barely remember last night.

But I do remember all the alcohol … and Porn Star.

I lower my head in shame. I hope to God I didn’t do anything stupid while I was drunk, but knowing my luck, it’s a very real possibility.

I set the coffee cup on the small table beside me bed and shake Bennett’s shoulder roughly.

He stirs and tightens his hold on me. In fact, he pulls so hard that I fall back on the bed as he snuggles me against his chest like some oversized teddy bear. His lips press to my neck. “Mornin’.”

“Ugh,” Elle groans, clutching at her chest. “You guys are too sickeningly cute.”

I want to tell her it’s all for show, but I’m not allowed.

“Bennett.” I rock against him. “Wake up.”

“Keep doing that. Feels good.”

My pops open. “Ugh, you’re so gross.”

I yank my body from his octopus hold and fall to the floor. Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m only in my bra and panties—did he undress me?

The sound of me falling to the floor finally wakes him up and he peers at me over the edge of the bed with sleepy eyes and his hair ruffled around his head like a baby bird. I might think he looked cute if I wasn’t so mad. “Why are you on the floor, Princess? That’s dirty, and I thought princesses hated dirt.”

“Ugh!” I stand up and stomp across the

room, pulling on a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top so I don’t feel so exposed. “You’re so annoying.”

“Good morning to you too, sweetheart.” He grins and glances at Elle. “Morning.”

She lifts her coffee cup to her. “Good morning, Bennett.”

Bennett sits up and yawns, stretching his arms above his head.

“Can you put a shirt on?” I snap, looking around for his clothes. “And please, tell me you have pants on.”

“I prefer to sleep in the buff.” He grins crookedly.

I give him a horrified look. “We didn’t have sex, did we?” I squeak. It’s definitely the wrong thing to say in front of Elle, but I’m panicking. I can’t even remember leaving the club so anything is a possibility.

“I was kidding, Grace,” he sobers. “Jesus fuck, you were drunk off your ass—I wouldn’t have taken advantage of you. You know that.”

I inhale a deep breath, feeling the panic and fear leave my body.

He stands, and he is in his boxers so I feel infinitely better. He grabs his dress pants off the floor and slips into them.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know you wouldn’t have done that. It’s just … I can’t remember much.”

He nods in understanding. “It’s okay. Want to go get breakfast?” He looks at his phone. “Or lunch, rather?”

I don’t really want to. I’d rather lie in bed and sleep off the rest of this hangover, but I remind myself that I am his fake girlfriend, and I kind of have to save face after what just happened in front of Elle.

“Sure.” I nod. “I need to eat,” I lie. The thought of eating actually makes me want to throw up. I look down at the clothes I put on. “I better change. Meet me outside?”