The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3)
“Off the record?”
She snorts. “Yes, fucktard, off the fucking record. You’re my brother. I would never leak anything you tell me to the media. Don’t you have more faith in me than that?”
“Sorry, Bina,” I sigh. “I’ve been screwed over by a lot of people in this business. It’s hard not to question everyone after a while.”
“But I’m not people,” she counters. “I’m family.”
“True,” I sigh. “We’ll talk later but I better get back to Grace and her mom.”
“Oh, of course,” Sabrina says. “You better call me, douche-canoe. I mean it.”
“I will.”
“Love you, Bennie.”
I chuckle. “Love you too, Bina.”
I hang up and collapse back on the bed. I hate not telling my sister and parents what’s going on with Coach Matthews but the less they know the better. I hope Coach Harrison is figuring something out because I have no fucking clue what to do.
How do you knock down someone who rules the world?
After Lincoln comes home from school and gives Bennett the cold shoulder, Mom decides it would be best to meet my dad and Dean at a restaurant for dinner. I guess she figures they have to act somewhat respectfully in public.
My mom insists that Bennett and I ride in the car with her and Linc, which I’m thankful for. I can tell Bennett’s looking to get me alone so we can talk about last night, but I can’t wrap my head around my thoughts to even talk about it with him. I don’t regret it, that’s for sure, but I’m scared. My feelings for Bennett were already complicated and now it’s worse. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want him, but I know I can’t have him. He doesn’t do girlfriends—at least, not real ones—and I’m sure last night meant nothing to him. How could it have? He’s been with a lot of women and I’m nothing special. I’m just … me.
“You’re quiet,” Mom comments during the drive to the restaurant.
“Lost in my thoughts,” I explain. I glance behind me at Bennett and Lincoln in the back of the Land Rover. Linc glares at Bennett like he’s the most disgusting person he’s ever met. “Linc,” I hiss. “Stop it.”
Linc’s lips curl into a snarl. “But he’s a hockey player.”
Bennett’s snorts. “Dude, I’m sitting right here. Besides, what’s so wrong with hockey players?”
“Football is better,” Lincoln quips. He plays for the high school team, and his whole life revolves around the sport. His love and passion for it is funny since no one in my family is that much into sports. My dad and Dean are pretty much nerds.
Bennett turns in his seat. “Football, huh?” He then launches into a bunch of stats and team names that mean nothing to me. Apparently, Bennett not only knows hockey, he knows football as well. I can see Lincoln warming up to him now, and that makes me happy. This thing between us might not be real but he did get suckered into spending three weeks in Virginia, so I’d hoped the experience wouldn’t be entirely miserable for him.
My mom turns into the lot and I scan the parked cars for my dad’s and Dean’s, but they’re nowhere to be seen. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, relieved that we beat them. This way we can avoid a confrontation in the parking lot.
My mom parks the car and we hop out, heading inside to get a table.
There’s five-minute wait and I sway nervously beside Bennett, scared that my dad’s going to walk in any second and deck him across the face. It’s not a likely scenario. We are in public and my dad isn’t that mean, but I can’t seem to shake the fear. Luckily, the buzzer goes off and we’re taken to a table before they arrive.
My mom points for Bennett and me to take two seats beside each other and then she takes the end seat beside Bennett, while ordering Linc to take the one across from Bennett. I don’t call her on it but I see exactly what she’s doing—and I’m silently grateful for it.
The waiter comes by for our drink order, and since I’m too busy freaking out to pay attention, Bennett orders a water for me.
“Calm down,” he whispers in my ear. “It’ll be fine.”
A few minutes later, I see my dad’s tall form enter the restaurant. He looks tired from a hard day of work and my brother comes in behind him. They’re both tall with angular cheekbones and a sharp gaze. My dad’s brown hair has slight speck of gray in it now and my brother’s brown locks hang unkempt in his green eyes—green the same color as mine, courtesy of our dad.
I hold my breath, waiting for the shit to hit the fan. I startle when I feel Bennett’s hand on mine. He gives it a reassuring squeeze and the look in his eyes alleviates my worry slightly.
“Hey, Princess,” my dad says, coming to kiss my forehead.
I expect Bennett to make a comment on the princess thing but he wisely keeps his mouth shut.
“Hi, Dad. I missed you.” I reach up to hug him. He moves to take his seat and Dean hugs me then. They both smell like oil and grease from the car shop, but I don’t mind it. It’s normal and smells like home. “This is Bennett. Bennett, this is my dad, Trace, and my brother, Dean.”