The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3)

Fucking great. The hockey arena is all the way on the other side of campus and I’ve already hauled my heavy books around this far. Bennett will be lucky if I don’t chuck one at his head when I find him. After all, this is his fault. If he hadn’t kissed me in a stadium full of people we wouldn’t have this problem.

But oh, my God, that kiss.

I spent all of last night thinking about it. I’ve never been kissed like that. But what sucks is that I know it wasn’t real. It was all for show. Bennett knew it would be projected on the screen and that it would invariably end up online and in the tabloids. I knew what I was agreeing to, but it still hurts, and that’s what really sucks. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s not real. So far, that isn’t working, though. When I agreed to Bennett’s stupid idea to be his fake girlfriend, I thought there was no chance I’d fall for the egotistical hockey player. But I’ve gotten to know him and he’s really not so bad.

I head back across campus to the arena. Since it’s the weekend it’s open to the public. It’s big but I follow the signs and eventually find myself entering into the seated area. I walk down the steps and I can hear the slapping sound of a hockey stick against a puck. Bennett just looks a small speck from where I stand, but the further down I go, the closer I get. He hasn’t heard me. He’s too focused on slinging the pucks into the net. I drop my stuff into one of the seats and then stand in front of the glass so I can watch him better.

Once he’s shot all the pucks into the net, he skates down the ice and climbs over a wall. He tears his helmet off and spits out his mouth-guard. His hair drips with sweat and he pushes the longer strands out of his eyes. He picks up a bottle of water and gulps it down.

I head over to him. “Hey,” I say softly.

He startles and nearly drops his water. “Fuck, I didn’t hear you.” He wipes some water off his jersey.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak in. You were just really into it.”

He flashes me a lopsided smile. “I take it you missed me? Come back for another kiss?”

I push his shoulder but of course he goes nowhere. “Hardly. I came to warn you.”

“Warn me?” He raises a brow and takes another sip of water.

“My dad saw the photo of us and he’s on his way here.”

I expect Bennett to look scared but instead his grin only grows. “Aw, overprotective daddy? I should’ve known Princess would have one.”

I roll my eyes. “Sometimes I think about killing you just to shut you up.”

He laughs. “You’re funny.”

“I was serious.” I cross my arms over my chest. “My brothers are with him too.”

He chuckles and says, “Okay. We’ll take them out to dinner then.”

“Bennett,” I cry. “How can you be so blasé about this?”

He shrugs and takes another large gulp of water. “Because it’s not a big deal. Your dad getting pissed over a photo is the least of my problems. You’re not even my real girlfriend.”

My jaw drops, and before I can stop myself, I slap him right across his too smug face.

He looks at me, stunned, and I stare back.

I can’t believe I just did that. It’s not like me at all but Bennett infuriates me more than anyone else can.

Only seconds pass before I turn and run.

I’m halfway back to my dorm when I realize I left my backpack and books sitting on one of the seats in the stadium.

I halt in my tracks and groan. I feel so incredibly frustrated. I don’t know why I even bothered warning Bennett, because he’s right: this isn’t real so it’s no big deal to him anyway. It is a big deal to me, though, and that’s where the problem lies. I don’t like keeping secrets and I definitely don’t like my dad being mad at me, but it’s not Bennett’s problem, it’s mine, and that’s something I have to come to terms with.

I know I should turn around and go back to get my stuff, but I don’t want to face Bennett again. I hit him—and not a little smack, either. I’ve never been a violent person, but something about what he said struck a chord and it hurt. I know we’re not a real couple but I did think we were friends and what he said isn’t something you’d say to a friend.

I decide to go back to the dorm like I’d originally planned. Thankfully, Elle is still gone. I pull back the covers on my bed and burrow myself beneath them, wishing they’d swallow me whole.

I feel ashamed of myself and I hate that icky feeling. It sucks.

I don’t know how much time has passed in my burrow of shame when someone bangs on the door. I know instinctively that it’s Bennett even before he shouts, “Grace, let me in.”

“Go away,” I yell back, my voice muffled by the sheets.