The Game That Breaks Us (Us 3)

“I’ve been busy,” I reason.

“True,” she agrees. “Well, that’s his story to tell, not mine.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Now, let’s eat.”

“I missed you.” Bennett climbs into bed behind me and wraps his arms around me. I know I should kick him out, like I should’ve done every other night since we made this official, but I can never bring myself to do it. I like these stolen moments with him too much to give it up.

I roll over and kiss him, tangling my legs in his. “What’d you do today?”

“Played hockey.”

“Really?” I ask surprised.

He nods. “Drove down to D.C. and hung out with the team there. I have a few friends there.”

I rub the facial hair on his cheeks. “Do you think they might take you after your contract ends?”

He shrugs. “I talked to the coach some but I won’t get my hopes up.”

I frown. “I hate that you’re not allowed to play with your team. I know you miss it.”

He sighs. “I really fucking do, but I’m fighting an uphill battle with Matthews.”

“Have you talked to that player? The one you saw him give steroids to?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“I think you should.” I trace my fingers over his lip. “Look at the way Matthews is basically blackmailing you. You don’t know what’s really going on there. There might be more to the story than that guy being your coach’s puppet.”

He nods. “You might be right.”

“We have a rink here in town—no fancy arena, that’s for sure—but I want you to teach me how to skate.”

His lips tip up. “Princess doesn’t know how to ice skate?”

I shake my head. “I was more into dancing on dry land.”

He chuckles and kisses the end of my nose. “Let’s go tomorrow.”

I nod and snuggle closer to him. “Just don’t let me fall on my ass.”

His chuckle rumbles against my ear. “No promises, sweetheart.”

Grace falls on her ass after approximately five seconds on the ice. I bust out laughing instead of helping her up.

“You’re such an asshole!” she curses me, trying to get up on her own, which results in her legs kicking wildly. Thankfully, we’re the only ones on the ice. “Help me up, dickwad!”

I hold my hand out to her. “You’re so nice to me.”

“Yeah, well, you promised not to let me fall.”

“Actually, sweetheart,” I say sickeningly sweet, “I said no promises.”

“Ugh, I hate you.” She glares at me—and if looks could kill, I’d be dead. She holds onto my arm so tight that I’m afraid she’s going to cut off the blood circulation.

“You know, for this to be classified as ice skating, we actually have to move.”

“I’m not ready!” she cries, terrified I’m about to send her flying across the ice.

“Calm down, Princess. We’ll take baby steps.”