The Game That Breaks Us (29 page)

I wait until I know for sure that everyone’s fallen asleep. It’s after one in the morning when I finally creep into Grace’s bedroom. It’s pitch black, her blinds and curtains closed, and I can barely see to step across the floor. I bump into her dresser and curse when something rattles.

She stirs beneath her covers and I still. I was going to wake her up but I don’t want to scare her.

She rubs her eyes and sits up. “Bennett? Is that you?” she whispers.

I nod, which is stupid since she can’t see me. “Yeah,” I croak.

She reaches up and flicks her light on. She blinks from the sudden flood of light and rubs her eyes. “What are you doing in here?” she asks.

“I wanted to talk to you.” I walk over to her bed and sit down beside her. The bed dips with my added weight and she rolls a bit toward me. I itch to reach out and touch her. Kiss her. Hold her. But I don’t. I’m so confused about what I want and I don’t want to lead her on. It’s better to act indifferent than to make her think …

Think what, Bennett? That this is real? Because it is.

I push my thoughts away. I don’t want to hear them. 

“About what?” she asks, trying not to yawn. There are circles under her eyes; I know she’s exhausted and I should let her sleep, but I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to talk to her. 

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay after last night.” I swallow thickly as I think back on those moments. Fuck, I want to do it again, but I doubt Grace wants me the same way. “You were quiet today and I was worried you regretted it. I … I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I had done something you weren’t one-hundred percent okay with.” I rub my hands over my face. “I haven’t always been the nice guy, Grace, but that’s how I want you to see me. I want to be good because of you.”

She laughs lightly. “So the bad boy wants the good girl to make him good, and the good girl wants the bad boy to make her bad.” She lifts her fingers and strokes them against my cheek. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

I lean into her touch. I shouldn’t, but the moment of brief contact feels like a lifeline. “Being bad is overrated,” I tell her.

Her lips quirk up. “So is being good.”

I wet my lips, my eyes flicking over her face. Her hair is a wild mess and her lips are slightly chapped, her cheeks rosy, and her eyes sparkling with amusement. I’ve never felt possessive over a woman before, but this one makes me crazy in ways I never imagined I would feel. 

“Maybe there’s a happy medium,” I tell her. “And maybe—” I wrap a piece of her hair around my finger “—we can find it together?”

She’s quiet, and the silence nearly kills me. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she nods. “Together,” she echoes and I smile.

“You never answered me, though—if you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assures me. “Last night was … amazing. I don’t regret it. I couldn’t.” 

I breathe out an embarrassingly loud sigh of relief. I had worried all day. 

“Good,” I say. 

Her lips twitch the smallest bit and she says, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it happening again, either. I mean, if you wanted to.”

I chuckle. “Trust me, I wouldn’t mind.” I wink.

She blushes slightly and lays her head down on the pillows. “Are we good now?”

I nod. “We’re good. I’ll stop worrying so much.”

She smiles. “You better get out of here before we get caught.”

I wince. Her dad finding me in here would definitely not score me any points. 

I lean over and kiss her. It’s a simple kiss goodnight, but it makes me realize something.

I’m a fucking liar if I think this is still simply an agreement between us—a deal struck to save my reputation. 

This … This is so much more. 

 “Where are we going?” Grace’s giggles trail behind us as I drag her down the street.

We’ve spent the past three days doing good things—baking cookies with her mom, helping at her brother’s school for some holiday recital, and helping her mom plan some shmancy New Year’s Eve party—now it’s time to do something bad.

“I’m not telling.” 

Telling her would ruin the fun, and she’d probably chicken out. If I completely blindside her with this, I have a better chance of getting her to agree.

I spot the sign for the shop and begin to slow down.

I had to search the internet before I found a place that I trusted to do this.

“Oh, hell no.” Grace spots the sign and connects the dots. “I’m not getting a tattoo, Bennett.”

I hold on tight to her hand, not letting her get away. “Come on Grace, a tattoo is like the true mark of a rebel. You have to do it.”

“I don’t even know what I’d get.”

“I already have something picked out for you.”

Her mouth drops. “You have to be kidding me. What?”

“I’m not telling. It’s a surprise.”

“
Bennett
,” she practically shrieks my name, “you can’t expect me to get a tattoo—something
permanent—
and not know what it is.”

“You trust me, right?”

“Yes,” she answers without a second of thought.

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

She sizes me up. “Do I get to pick one for you, then?”

I nod. “Absolutely.”

She grins. “Then I’ll do it.”

Something tells me I might be in trouble. I don’t argue with her, though. I open the door and let her go in first. 

The shop is dark with purple walls and black curtains. Pictures of tattoos and other drawings line the walls. A man sits behind the counter, both arms covered in ink. I’ve gotten a few tattoos over the years but it’s been a while since I got anything new. I’m mildly afraid of what Grace will pick for me, but I know she’s feeling the same way.

“Hey, man, I’m Bennett,” I say to the guy. “I think we spoke on the phone?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m Drew.” He tips his head at me in acknowledgement. “You guys can come back here.”

He leads us into a room in the back of the studio. I requested a private room since I thought it would make Grace feel more comfortable.

“Who’s going first?” Drew asks.

Grace surprises me by saying, “Me, I guess. I need more time to figure out what you’re going to get,” she tells me, biting her lip and giving away how nervous she is.

“Take a seat then.” Drew slaps his hand against the leather chair.

Grace takes a deep breath and sits down. “Please don’t give me something stupid,” she begs.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’ve got this. You have nothing to worry about.”

She surprises me by nodding and not arguing with me. 

“What are you getting today?” Drew asks.

“This.” I hand him a piece of paper where I sketched my idea. “I’m not the best artist so you can take that and make it better, but that’s it.”

Drew unfolds the paper and chuckles. 

Grace looks at him in horror. “Is it bad? You have to tell me—this is permanent,” she adds like he doesn’t know.

Drew shakes his head. “It’s not bad. You’ll be fine.”

Grace sighs and nibbles on her bottom lip. I take the seat beside her while Drew makes my drawing better. It’s a simple design but it needed some improvement. Drew finishes and hands the paper back to me.

I grin. “It’s perfect.”

“Excellent.”

He goes to work putting it on the transfer paper. “Where do you want it?” he asks Grace.

She looks to me. “You pick.”

I’m surprised she’s giving me so much control, but I’m not about to argue with her. 

“There.” I point to her wrist. Drew begins transferring the design to her skin and I warn, “No peeking.”

She lifts her eyes to mine. “Then come sit over here and hold my other hand.”

I chuckle and pull the other chair in the room over to her side. She turns away from Drew and holds her hand out to me. “Is this going to hurt?” She looks worried.

“It’s not that bad.” She looks doubtful. “Scout’s honor.” I lift my fingers.

“I think you’d have to have been a Boy Scout for that to mean anything.” She jumps when Drew moves away to grab the ink and tattoo needle.

I gasp. “I can’t believe you don’t think I could’ve been a Boy Scout.”

“Well, were you?” she asks with a raised brow.

“For like three years,” I admit. “Then I discovered hockey and girls.”

She snorts. “Of course.”

“You’re going to have to hold still,” Drew warns.

Grace holds on tight to my hand. “It won’t take long,” I tell her, trying to comfort her. “It’s small.” She nods. “Have you figured out what I’m going to get?”

“No. I’m too nervous to think.”

“Well you better hurry up and decide, sweetheart,” I say just as the needle pierces her skin.

She winces. “I thought you said this wouldn’t hurt?” she accuses.

I chuckle. “It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“I’d beg to differ.”

“Wimp,” I joke.

She sticks her tongue out at me. 

It doesn’t take Drew long to finish her tattoo. 

“You’re not allowed to look at it until I get mine,” I tell her. “Then we’ll see them together.” 

She nods. “That seems fair.”

“Does that mean you’ve decided what I’m getting?”

She grins like the cat that ate the damn canary and now
I’m
worried. “Yep.”

We switch places and she whispers to Drew what he’s supposed to give me. “Where do you want me to put it?” he asks her.

“I’d say his ass just because but that’s too mean for even me.” She winks at me. “How about the same spot you did mine?”

“I can do that,” Drew says, messing around at his station.

“Are you going to come hold my hand?” I pout and hold out my hand to her.

She laughs. “Aw, is the baby worried it’ll hurt?”

I look at my other tattoos. “Nah, I just want my girl to sit here with me.”

Her eyes flare at the
my girl
comment and she perches her cute ass on the chair I was sitting in a few minutes ago. She slides her hand into mine and her eyes linger on my face like she’s searching for answers there. 

Drew sketches out my tattoo and gets her approval.

She grins at the drawing. “It’s perfect.”

“Now I’m scared.” I chuckle, rubbing my face nervously with my free hand before Drew starts.

“Don’t be,” she tells me. “You trust me, right?” she throws my words back at me.

“Yes,” I answer, and I do. I surprisingly do. I don’t trust many people—I’ve been screwed over a lot—but Grace is someone I know would never do me harm. 

I can feel Drew outlining the tattoo but I still can’t figure out what it is. He shades it in and Grace smiles as she watches. I look away, even though I want to peek. Grace didn’t look at hers so I owe it to her to do the same until the big reveal.

Drew finishes and says, “Are you ready to see?”

“Fuck yes,” I blurt.

Grace laughs. “You and your dirty mouth.”

“Ready, Princess?” I ask her.

“You bet.”

“We’ll close our eyes while Drew uncovers yours,” I tell her, “and then when he says ready, we’ll look, okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees.

We close our eyes and Drew removes the bandage from Grace’s.

“One, two, three,” Drew counts. “You can look now.”

Grace and I both hold out our arms and look at the tattoos on our wrists. 

I bust out laughing. “Good one, Princess.” A red Sour Patch Kid is tattooed on my wrist. It’s silly, but it’s me, and every time I look at it I’ll be reminded of Grace and that trip to Target. “This is perfect,” I tell her. Grace is quiet, though, and I worry that she’s mad about my choice. I bend, trying to see her face. She looks like she’s close to tears. “Grace?” I prompt. She says nothing. “Fuck,” I curse. “You hate it.” She shakes her head. “You don’t hate it, then?” A nod. “Fuck, sweetheart, talk to me,” I beg. Her silence worries me.

“I hate that stupid nickname but this is … it’s perfect.” She smiles wistfully at the small crown-shaped tattoo.

I bend and kiss the top of her head. She looks so small and vulnerable and I can’t help but show her some sort of affection. I mean—I’d like to do a whole lot more, but we
are
in public. 

“Just so you know, I don’t mean to call you Princess in a bad way.” She snorts. “Seriously,” I add. “It just … suits you.”

She looks up at me, her hair falling behind her shoulders. “Why don’t I believe you?”

I chuckle and hold up my fingers with a little space in between. “Okay, so maybe I
did
mean it sarcastically just a little bit.”

“Only a little bit, huh?” She laughs, and her eyes sparkle with amusement.

God, I love this girl
.

My thoughts stop me cold. 

Love? I
love
this girl?

Fuck, I think I do. No, I
know
I do.

I’ve never loved another girl before—have nothing to compare this feeling to—but I know that’s what it is. 

Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with Grace.

I fell in love with her smile.

Her laugh.

The way she mocks me every chance she gets.

I fell in love with her love of chocolate and coffee.

I fell in love with every little thing that makes her
her.