Playing for Keeps (The Game #2)(5)
Author: Emma Hart

“Disgust,” I mutter, looking away from him so he doesn’t catch the lie. “Don’t confuse it with bitterness or jealousy.”

“You know something?” He leans in closer, his breath fluttering my hair as he places his mouth close to my ear. “I think you’re fooling yourself. Ten minutes, Megan.”

He gets up and disappears, leaving me shaking my head after him. I need to shake my head – I need to do something to hide the temptation running through my body.

Kyle wordlessly removes my glass and pours me another drinks. “You’re quiet tonight.” He leans against the bar opposite me.

“It has been known to happen.” I smile.

“Odd without Mads and Braden, huh?”

I shrug a shoulder. “A bit, I guess. At least all their shit is sorted out now. We can all get on with our lives.”

Kyle snorts. “Right. Braden took every guy in this house down with him when she went to Brooklyn. It was like living with a woman with f**king PMS, and shit, I moved away from home to escape that. My sister is a demon then.”

“You should try being around guys that don’t get laid enough,” I comment dryly, sipping my drink. “They beat girls with PMS hands down.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He smirks. “Just so happens there’s none of those around here.”

“Huh. You’re probably right.”

“You look like you need to get laid though.”

“And here I was thinking you were a nice guy. You had to go and blow it by saying that, didn’t you?” I sigh playfully. “You all are the same.”

“Hey, I’m just saying.” He leans forward and grins. “I bet you wouldn’t be short of offers since the caveman isn’t here.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting my smile. “The caveman thing is really sticking, huh?”

“You have no idea.” Kyle’s eyes twinkle.

Why can’t I want Kyle instead? He’s a damn nice guy, and he’s not exactly bad looking without his unruly dark hair and hazel eyes. He’s leanly built, his muscles not showy but clear to see. He’d be such a great distraction – if I wasn’t already so distracted by Aston.

I finish the rest of my drink and push the glass toward him. “Do me a favor? Tell Lila I’ll see her tomorrow sometime. I’m heading back to the dorm.”

“Got it.” He nods and turns away.

I glance around the room and scoot out of it. This is a risk. A big risk, but I don’t care.

Aston’s words were full of promises when he sat next to me on the stool, and his eyes were full of mysteries I want to unravel between his sheets. Paranoia attaches itself to me as I push my way through the living room and up the stairs. I run my fingers through my hair as if I’m just heading to the bathroom and glance around on the landing. My fingers grasp the bottom of my dress and tug it down as I climb the final staircase to his room.

Someone grabs my arm and spins me into the wall. Their mouth covers mine, swallowing my shriek, and their swift movements thwart my attempt at kneeing them in the balls.

“You’re not being attacked,” Aston mutters lowly against my mouth. “Unless you want it.”

I open my eyes to his in the dim light of the hallway. “You’re a pig, you know that?”

“Yet you’re here.”

“Apparently.” I drop my eyes.

He cups the side of my head, threading his fingers through my hair, and tugs my face upward. His lips touch mine again, soft but forceful, and I slide my hands up his arms to grip his collar. I hold his face against mine, parting my lips for his probing mouth, and push my body into his. He flicks his tongue against mine, before biting on my bottom lip and sweeping it across it. Tremors fall down my spine, and he reaches around to slot his key into the door, breaking the kiss.

He shoves it open, his hands trailing down my back, and I let him pull me into his room. He slams the door at the same time he yanks my body against his, his breath fanning across my lips. My eyes drop to his mouth and close as he dips his head to kiss me again. This time it’s firmer, more needing, and my fingers creep below his polo shirt and onto his hot skin. I spread my fingers out, my thumbs brushing the solid muscle on his stomach, and he releases me to pull his shirt over his head.

I run my bottom lip between my teeth and run my eyes down his torso. He’s perfect, beautifully so. His skins stretches over each pack of muscle, the shadows in the indents between them like a light engraving on his skin.

I step forward and touch my mouth to his chest, and he cups the back of my head. He kisses my earlobe, running his lips down my neck, and my trembling hands reach up between us.

What am I doing?

“Megan?”

I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. Instead I swallow, stepping back. His hands fall away from me and hang limply at his sides.

“I …” I swallow again, trying to control the crazy buzzing in the back of my mind. “This … This can’t happen.”

Can’t happen? What am I doing now?

“Can’t happen?” He looks like he’s at a complete loose end, unable to work out what I’m saying. Hell, I just followed him up here and now I’m refusing. I don’t get it myself.

“Yep.” I back toward the door, pushing my hair from my face, and tug my dress down a little. “This can’t happen. At all.”

My hand finds the handle and opens the door. And I walk away, leaving him staring after me.

~

No one knows.

I remind myself of this as I stare at Lila’s sleeping body. I keep expecting her to wake up and yell at me for being so dumb. But no one knows – not that it’s stopping the intense feelings of near-peace and guilt warring inside me.

The old age cliché. Your head vs. your heart. My head is telling what I already know – I’m a terrible person. I betrayed my best friend by kissing his best friend when I know it’s the last thing he wanted me to do … But my heart tells me differently, what I should know. It’s telling me I’m not a terrible person. For once I went after what I wanted without thinking of the consequences.

It doesn’t make me reckless and unfeeling. So unfeeling is probably an exaggeration, but reckless? Yes. It was reckless, and probably a little selfish.

Then again, you don’t get anywhere in life without pissing off a few people.

Was last night a mistake? I did the one thing I said I wouldn’t do, the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t f**king do. Don’t get involved with your best friend’s best friend – it’s simple. Something so simple that became incredibly complicated the second I looked into Aston’s misty gray eyes the first day of college. I always knew there’d be something between us, I just didn’t know if it would amount to anything.