Playing for Keeps (The Game #2)(32)
Author: Emma Hart

He tucks my hair behind my ear. “How do you know?”

I smile a little. “Well, you’re no Mr. Darcy, but you know …”

His fingers move against my side, tickling me, and I fall backwards onto the bed, laughing. He leans over me, his leg slipping between mine and his hips pinning me down. His hand leaves my side and travels up my body to my hand where he links our fingers.

“‘You have bewitched me, body and soul,’” he murmurs, looking down into my eyes. “I forgot the accent, but I’m sure that’ll do. That’s all I can remember of the book when I look at you.”

“One of my favorite lines.” I smile. “Do I make you forget things often?”

“All the time.” He lowers his lips, moving them softly across mine for a long, lingering moment.

“I can’t believe you actually know some Jane Austen,” I muse, moving his hair from his face.

How many guys know Jane Austen? Every day he surprises me a little more.

“It was the first classic novel my Gramps made me read. I was eight.” He props his head on his hand. “He said that although Darcy was a pompous ass in the beginning, if I grew up and loved a woman the way he loved Elizabeth in the end, then he’d done his job at raising me.” He trails a finger down the side of my face.

“He gave you the book to teach you to respect women,” I say in awe. “He wanted you to take Darcy’s journey of respecting and loving Elizabeth and apply it to real life. Your Gramps is a genius.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.” He grins.

“I’ll tell him myself if I ever get to meet him.”

“You can. If you want to.”

“Really?”

Aston nods. “I’ve already told you the worst. Gramps … Well, he’ll probably be happy to have someone to talk to who actually enjoys discussing literature’s greatest love stories. Hell, I don’t have much patience for that shit.”

“I would love to meet him,” I say honestly. “And discuss literature’s greatest love stories.”

“Tomorrow?” Aston questions, the little boy showing in his eyes again, and I realize he’s letting me in.

By taking me to meet his Gramps, he’s giving me more of himself. He’s letting me meet the one person who really knows him … The one person that knows the little boy inside.

I run the pad of my thumb along his bottom lip. “Tomorrow. I’ll be sure to bring Mr. Darcy.”

“No need.” He drops his face to mine again, taking my bottom lip between his and sucking lightly. “I’ll be a real life Mr. Darcy.”

“You don’t have the top hat and tails,” I protest, clasping my hands behind his head.

“Who needs them? They’d end up on the floor anyway.”

I giggle as he kisses me again, his body pressing into mine. “You’re probably right.”

~

I feel like I’m fifteen and sneaking back into my room after breaking curfew.

I never intended to stay at the frat house last night – it just happened. After Aston told me everything, I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t walk away, leaving him with the memories I made him drag out.

So that’s why I’m creeping out in yesterday’s clothes to change quickly before he takes me to meet his Gramps.

Hoping everyone else is still in bed or doing what they normally do on a Sunday morning, I silently pad my way down the stairs. Kyle’s deep voice makes me pause.

“A blonde girl?” he asks.

“Yeah. I didn’t see who it was, though. As far as I know she was still in his room last night.”

“You mean Aston didn’t come down and pull some chick?”

Fuck.

I press my hand over my mouth to stifle the stream of curse words. I glance at the front door. If I turn the corner right now, whoever is outside will see me and know I was the girl in his room.

“Megan?” a voice asks, and I bite my tongue.

“Nah. Braden would kill him.”

That’s it.

I take my pumps off and skip up the stairs on tip toes. My hands shake as I fumble for Braden’s key in the pocket of my jeans and slip it in the lock. I sneak into his room, and take one of my books from his desk.

Thank you, Braden, for your constant need to copy my English notes.

The door clicks shut behind me, and I put my pumps back on. I know I look on the rough side of human – hey, it is a Saturday – but I walk casually down the stairs anyway. Kyle and the other guy, Mark, both look at me as I appear in their line of view.

“Morning.” I smile and wave slightly.

“Uh,” Kyle says awkwardly. “You’re here early.”

I lift the book. “Braden had my notes again. It’s exactly why I have a key for his room.”

“Seriously?” Mark narrows his eyes, looking at me suspiciously.

“The book is in my hand, isn’t it? Want me to take you up and show you how many of my damn books he has sitting on his desk?” I offer, pointing to the stairs more calmly than I feel. “It’s no big deal.”

“Nah, you’re alright,” he replies, relaxing.

“Great.” I fake a smile. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a paper to write. See ya.”

“Bye, Megs.” Kyle waves as I turn and leave the frat house.

All the air rushes from my lungs when the door shuts behind me, and I force myself to walk instead of run. Shit. That was close – too f**king close – and I’ve exhausted my number one excuse for being at the frat house when Braden or the girls aren’t.

“Where the f**k were you last night?”

Kay’s voice sends a bolt of panic through me. Hell. Can I get a break today?

“Why do you need to know?” I ask, letting myself into the dorm block.

“Because I came round here to bring your ass to a party – not with those dicks at Braden’s house – and you weren’t here. Where were you?”

I put my hand on my doorframe, grinning, and decide to play it coy. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She smirks. “Fucking right I’d like to know. Did you finally get some?”

I shove the door open. “A lady never reveals her secrets!” And slam it shut before she can question me further.

“You bitch!” she yells, banging on the door. “I’m not letting this go!”

“I know!” But at least now I have time to come up with an excuse.