The Love Game (The Game #1)(10)
Author: Emma Hart

“Braden has a heart?” She laughs. “Funny, Megs, funny.”

“Hey.” Megan turns and points her finger at her. “He does. It’s just wrapped up in latex and usually between some girl’s legs.”

“Nice,” I mutter, taking the jeans. Lila pats my arm sympathetically.

“It won’t be that bad, Maddie,” she reassures me. “Besides, if you tell him you wanna head back to the party afterward, we’ll be there and you can escape for a few minutes.”

“But it’s gonna be like, two hours.” I watch Megan rifle through my closet. “Two hours alone with Braden. This is gonna be torture. You guys don’t even understand it.”

“You can’t hate him that much, Mads.” Megan turns. “Can you?”

I sigh, looking at the carpet. “You have no idea. I wasn’t joking when I said he was everything I hated.”

“Then don’t do it.” Kay spears me with her gaze. “Give up. Quit.” She shrugs a shoulder.

“What?” I frown.

“If it’s that bad, then back out. We won’t hold it against you, but it’ll be you wondering whether or not it would have worked.”

“Don’t do your reverse psychology trash on me, Kay.” I sniff, standing and moving to my closet. I pull out a long, white top with a floral design and grab my white gladiator sandals. “You all know I won’t give up. I’ll just have to suffer for your amusement.”

I turn and storm into the bathroom to get changed. Quit. I might be annoyed I have to do this, but I’m not going to give up. I said I would do it, and I will.

I change quickly, brushing my hair and securing it into a ponytail with a band. A quick brush of mascara on my lashes, a hint of bronzer along my cheekbones followed by a slick of gloss on my lips, and I decide it’s as good as it’s gonna get.

Kay whistles when I walk back into our room.

“Sexy lady!” She winks and I crack a smile at her.

“Good enough?” I spin and bow.

“Perfect,” Megan declares. “Braden won’t be able to resist you.”

I move to the mirror and slightly tease my bangs. That’s what I’m worried about.

A horn beeps outside and Lila squeals, running to the window. “He’s here!”

“Great,” I mutter, grabbing my purse. “Have fun without me, and try not to think of me too much, yeah?”

“You’ll be fine, baby girl.” Kay grins at me. “Shake your ass, flick your hair, and bat those eyelashes a few times. Do that and this is in the bag!”

“Right.” I sigh, waving over my shoulder as I shut the door behind me. I skip down the stairs, not wanting to prolong this “date”.

I can see him through the window of the main door. His hands are in the pockets of another pair of washed-out dark jeans, a black top covering his muscular torso. I open the door, and he smiles at me, his blue eyes brightening under his blonde hair.

I get why girls fall over him. That smile is disarming.

“Maddie.” He says my name softly. “You look beautiful.”

He’s laying it on thick tonight, apparently. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“You mean you can deal being seen in public with me?” He raises his eyebrows, and I smile, stepping into the evening sunshine.

“Maybe. Although, be warned, if we see anyone we know I will hide.” I follow him to his car – a black Jetta. Of course. I bet he doesn’t foot the bill, though.

He opens the door for me, and I climb in, sinking into the leather seats. Stylish.

“Nice car,” I compliment as he gets in next to me.

“Thanks.” He grins. “Graduation present. I worked hard for this baby.” He pats the dashboard and starts the engine, pulling away from my block smoothly.

“I’m sure you did,” I mutter, looking out of the window.

“What?” He glances at me quickly.

“Nothing.” I wish I’d backed out earlier. In three days I’ve had two chances to throw my hands up and say “stuff it,” and I haven’t. Why? Because I’m probably borderline clinically insane. Failing that, I’m just damn stupid.

Hearing from Pearce yesterday has just reshaped Braden in my mind. When I look at him, I see all the things my brother did to my old best friend. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I won’t think of that today. I won’t think of how I saw him destroy her and our friendship in the process.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard, Angel.” Braden shifts in his seat, and I realize we’ve pulled up to the bowling alley. I turn to him.

“Just thinking about my family, that’s all,” I reply, unclipping the seatbelt. I hear his door open and close then mine opens. He’s playing the gentleman game. “Thank you,” I say and accept the hand he gives me.

“I’m sorry,” he says, locking the car and putting a hand on my back. “I forget you’re from Brooklyn. It must be hard being away from your family.”

What’s left of it. “Sometimes. Sometimes I’m glad of the freedom I have now.”

“I bet.” He smiles down at me. “Do you speak to them much?”

“Is this twenty questions?” I’m amused.

“Would you be annoyed if I said yes?”

“Not at all.” I let out a small laugh. “Last I heard, a girl was lucky if Braden Carter asked her name.”

He smirks down at me and pulls me towards the counter. “Then you should consider yourself very lucky.” He looks up at the girl behind the counter who beams at him, twirling her hair round her finger and sticking out her chest.

He’s clearly on a date. Do these girls have no morals?

Not that I’m bothered. It’s just sickening.

“I have a lane booked for six thirty. Under Carter?” he says, ignoring her obvious attempts at getting his attention. Woah, he’s good.

“Of course, we have you booked in here. In fact, I think I took the call.” Boobs beams even wider and crosses his name off the list with a flourish. Ugh. Go look in a mirror and practice being a Barbie doll. She’s practically a life-size one anyway.

“I’m sure you did.” Braden smiles politely, albeit tightly at her. It doesn’t look forced. Whoa, hold on there. Could Mr. Playboy hate all that attention? Surely not. Another glance at him. Yep. He’s definitely not impressed. I file that bit of information away for the dissection of the date tomorrow with the girls. Interesting.

“Maddie?” He taps my side. “What size shoes do you need?”

“Oh, um, a seven, please.” I smile sweetly at Boobs. She gives me an icy look and grabs a pair of shoes. I look at the size when she slides them to me. “They’re a nine,” I tell her. “I said seven.”