The Lover’s Game (No Exceptions #2)(25)
Author: J.C. Reed

“It has everything to do with it.” Inside, I felt like a dam was breaking and at any moment water would slush down and flood me. I balled my hands into fists, unable to contain my anger any longer. “I want you out of my life.” I grabbed his shirt from the floor and threw it at him. He caught it in midair. “Get out. Get the f**k out of my life.”

More confusion crossed his face, followed by dismay, as I took a menacing pace toward him, and shoved him hard.

“It was just a game, Brooke. I was only kidding about you being a sore loser. There’s no need to get upset about it.”

“It’s not about the game. I want you to get out.” I pointed to the door in case I hadn’t made my point clear enough. “Get out of my life.”

It wasn’t the elaborate speech I had prepared in my mind, and I sure as hell I didn’t mean to shout, but everything inside me was shaking—my voice, my hands, my limbs. At any moment, I was going to explode.

“Brooke…” His tone was gentle and soothing, as though he was talking to a child. “What’s going on?” Instead of putting on his damn clothes, he took a step forward.

I flinched. “Stay away from me, Jett.”

I held up a hand to prove my point. Jett stared at it with a hard, defiant expression, but he seemed to respect my need for private space.

“Calm down, baby,” he said.

Before I could stop him, he stepped toward me and touched my shoulders. I shrugged off his hands, recoiling at the physical contact, even angrier that I wanted him to draw me to him and tell me that we’d be all right.

“Don’t you tell me to calm down,” I hissed. “I have every right to be angry at you. You played me. If I had known last night that it was you, I never would have slept with you.”

He drew in a sharp breath. Shock registered on his face, then disbelief. He looked as if I had just slapped him. In a way, I felt the sharpness of my own words, and it pained me as much as it pained him.

“You thought I was someone else?” he asked in a low tone, his brows drawn in disbelief.

The way he said it, I felt almost threatened.

“Yes,” I said through clenched teeth.

“What the f**k, Brooke!”

He released me. Hurt and betrayal shimmered in his eyes. For a second, I felt stunned that I had hit him where it hurt. My heart ached at his pain…until I remembered his betrayal with all its consequences.

“What did you expect, Jett?” I whispered, my voice almost choking me. And there I had been thinking a stranger could make love to me the way Jett had, when it had been him all along, all gorgeous and out of this world. Only, I had forgotten that beauty was an illusion we built inside our heads. The sooner I grasped that and acknowledged it, the faster I’d be able to get away from him.

The silence was deafening, but his answer never came. Instead, he continued to regard me, his gaze betraying his hurt and worry. If I could peer into his soul so easily, then I figured he might at least see the turmoil inside me, and all the things that had crushed my heart, so I turned away, because the magnitude of my love for him had to remain a well-kept secret, or else he could use it against me. Manipulate me. Tell me what I wanted to hear, even if it wasn’t true.

“It’s over,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “You can’t have me anymore. You can’t sleep with me anymore. In fact, I’d rather you just left and never contacted me again.”

He let out an annoyed sigh and pushed his fingers through his dark hair just as I had done the previous night when he had pinned me to the floor. “The last time I checked, we were still together.”

“Then I am ending things right now.” Another sharp pang of pain hit my chest. I turned my gaze to the shaggy rug beneath my feet so I wouldn’t have to see his expression. “Can you please leave now?”

As if sensing that I needed space, he walked back to the open window and leaned against the wall, facing me. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.” His voice was calm, but the dangerous undertones didn’t escape my attention.

I looked up at him. His face was as hard as stone, and his eyes shimmered with something I couldn’t pinpoint. “You know damn right what’s going on.”

“I actually don’t.” He pulled his eyebrows together again and let out an annoyed sigh. “Why don’t you enlighten me, Brooke?” His hard smile belied his anger.

My pulse began to race, but it wasn’t from the physical attraction that was still palpable in the air. Jett was playing games again, and this time it was the clueless card, but I could see through his pretense—more so because I had seen it coming. The thought that he thought he could lie right to my face infuriated me.

“Damn right, you do,” I said through gritted teeth, suppressing the wish to throw something else at him. “I don’t trust you as far as I can spit.”

He inched closer and grabbed my hand. I drew back before he could pull me to him and before his hard body could envelope me, soothing me the way only Jett knew how.

“Brooke.” Another annoyed sigh. “Can you please, for one moment, sit down and explain to me what’s going on? The last time you broke things off, you didn’t have a freaking choice, but this time? Forgive me for asking, but I’m confused.” His voice was hard, his expression detached. I had never seen his stunning green eyes devoid of warmth, and it scared me. His attitude suggested that I was the enemy, as if I was the one causing him pain.

“What is there to explain?” I started. “I know.”

“What do you know?” He sounded so sincere I laughed bitterly. He wasn’t just a good liar; he was an excellent one, who could have probably fooled any lie detector.

I shook my head as I stared him down. “I know everything, Jett.”

“What do you mean?” He sighed. “What exactly do you think you know?”

Now he was turning downright patronizing.

“Fine. If this is the way you want to play.” I smiled bitterly. With the sheet still wrapped around me, I sat across from him and ran a hand through my hair. My eyes settled on him in what I hoped was an icy expression. A few seconds passed. I took a deep breath and released it slowly, then continued, a little calmer, “Did you really think I’d still want to date you after I found out you f**ked Tiffany?”

He stared at me, shell-shocked, as though I had just dropped a bomb. I had expected to feel better after the confrontation, but I didn’t. Instead, all the hurt of being cheated on, of being betrayed, returned full force, multiplied by a million.