Page 83 of The Game

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Page 83 of The Game

Her arms tighten around me. “What did he do? I’ll go find him with a sharpened kitchen knife faster than you can say stabby stabby if he hurt you”

“Nothing. Something. I’m not sure.”

She pulls away to shut the door and lock it before slipping an arm around my shoulder to lead me back to the couch.

“He’s great. Well I thought he was. But you know how we were doing the fake dating thing. We made it real the night after the auction. He asked me to be his girlfriend.” Just the memory of it is enough for a tentative smile to creep up.

“Okay,” she says as if she’s reserving judgment until she gets the whole story. “Then what did he do?”

“I told you how he had an ex that cheated on him.”

She nods.

“She came up to me yesterday and told me something. She said she knew our relationship was fake, and that he was theone who told her. Plus, she told me that he got kicked off his last team for beating up a teammate. He never told me that, and I just don’t know if I can trust him anymore.”

She pauses, chewing on her lower lip. “Did you talk to him about it?”

“Not yet. I only just found out and I called you. I needed someone to talk to about it.”

“I’m glad you did. I’m happy to be here for you, but I don’t want to drive you off with my advice if it’s unwanted.”

“Please tell me. I won’t be mad.”

“Misunderstandings are what sink relationships. You have to talk to him about it. Ask him straight up. Honesty and communication are the most important things in a relationship.”

Right. I know she’s right, but… “What if I was wrong about him?”

Her entire body softens, and she pulls me in for another hug. She smells like lavender shampoo, and it’s such a soothing aroma I relax into her. “At least you’ll know. But don’t give up on him without talking to him. Figure this out and see if he’s the one for you. Give him a chance, but make sure he’s worthy of you. If he doesn’t worship the ground you walk on, he’s not worth your time.”

“Okay. I will. I’ll talk to him. Thanks so much for coming over, Amira. I don’t deserve you.”

There’s confusion pursing her lips. “Of course you do. You’re an amazing woman, and you’ve had my back on more than one occasion. Everybody deserves a friend.”

Her words fill my heart to the brim, sending pulses of warmth through my body. I do deserve a friend. And Cole. He’s at least earned the opportunity to explain himself.

Chapter 30

Hailstorm

Cole

Even though I’m theone who originally asked her to meet up, I’m nervous. I get up and sit down like five times. I’m alternating between checking the time on my phone and glancing at the doorway that leads in from the quad. The can-we-talk text message was way too much for my already shattered nerves.

She asked to meet here in the big impersonal school cafeteria and refused my offer to pick her up. It leaves a dark cloud hanging over my head, and the worst part is wouldn’t blame her if she broke up with me.

“Hey, Cole.” Her soft voice comes from behind me and I turn around slowly, afraid of what I’m going to find in her eyes. I don’t think I could handle an ending before we’ve gotten through the first chapter of our story.

“Jazz.” I stand up, gesturing for her tosit down.

The only good thing is the caf is pretty empty on a Sunday mid morning. Only the occasional students are gathered around chatting or studying. I picked a table as far away from anyone else as I could to give us the semblance of privacy that I’m going to need if she’s here to break up with me.

My lips are tingling with the urge to kiss her, but I resist, wanting to see what she’s got to say. If it really is over, there’s no point in sharing my news with her. I wouldn’t ask her to go through that for me if we don’t even have that connection.

She’s wringing her hands together on the table and I can’t resist some small touch. Placing my hands over hers. They’re cold under mine.

“I was just at the library, trading papers with Rob. That’s why I was already on campus.”

I nod at her, not needing the explanation, but it does ease the load on my mind a bit.




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