The Game That Breaks Us (31 page)

“I like Bennett,” my mom says, shuffling clothes around on a rack.

When she asked me to go shopping, I
knew
she had an ulterior motive for getting me out of the house. 

“I do too, obviously,” I say, picking up a dress from the rack and holding it up to my body. 

“That would be cute on you.” My mom nods to the cobalt blue dress I hold. 

“I need to get a dress for the New Year’s Eve party,” I tell her. “I don’t think this is fancy enough.”

Everyone goes all out for the annual Wentworth New Year’s Eve bash and the dress I hold looks more appropriate for a winter formal. 

“You’re probably right,” my mom says. “I need to get a dress too.” She makes a face of disgust. I definitely didn’t get my love of fashion from her. She’s a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl while I usually wear a dress or skirt. Although, on campus I’ve been wearing jeans more often thanks to the frigid temperatures. 

I move to another rack and flick through the dresses. The standard red and green colors make me want to pull out my eyeballs. 

“Bennett seems really into you,” she comments, getting back to what she
really
wants to talk to me about.

“He better be. I mean, we’ve only been dating for six months.”
Or, you know, a week.

“He hasn’t always been a one-woman man,” she tells me like I don’t already know. 

“I know, Mom,” I say. “Things are different with me.”

She looks unsure. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Grace. This is your first real relationship and he’s known to get around. Just … be careful, okay?” she pleads.

“I am,” I promise her. 

She nods but I doubt this is the last I’ll hear about this. She’s a mom, so she worries twenty-four-seven. 

“How about this dress?” She holds up a purple sequined number.

“For me?” I ask, and she nods. “I don’t look good in purple.”

She laughs and puts the dress back on the rack. “What about this one for me?” She holds up a strapless navy dress with silver detailing.

“I think that would be gorgeous on you,” I tell her honestly. My mom is still young and can pull off anything she wants.

She drapes the dress over her arm. “I’m going to try it on.”

“I’m going to keep looking for a dress for myself,” I tell her. “Just holler for me when you’re changed.”

She nods and heads over to the dressing room a few feet away.

I pick up a gold and teal dress and look it over. It’s nice, but still not the one. I put it back on the rack and keep looking. Thankfully, the store is full of dresses, so if I keep looking, I’m bound to find something eventually.

A few minutes later, my mom calls me over to check out the dress she chose.

She steps out of the dressing room with a wondering smile. “What do you think?”

I smile widely. “You look hot, Mom.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, Grace.”

“I’m serious.” I laugh. “It looks great. You’ll need a pair of heels, though.”

At the word
heels
she looks I’ve just handed her a death sentence. “So you think I should get this one?” She turns, appraising herself in the mirror.

I nod. “As long as you like the way it looks and feels, go for it. It’s a great dress.”

She nods at her reflection and smiles. “Yeah, I think I’m going to get it.”

She heads back into the dressing room to change back into her clothes, so I return to searching for my dress.

By the time she comes out, I think I’ve found it. “I’m going to try this one on,” I tell her. “Wait for me.”

I change into the dress quickly and step out of the room for my mom to see. 

“Oh, Grace,” she gasps. “You look beautiful.”

I turn to look at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The skirt on the dress is long and fitted down my hips and thighs. It’s done in gold and pink tone sequins while the top is white with short sleeves. It’s simple but elegant, and totally me.

“I want this one,” I say, fighting a smile. I love the way I look in the dress, but I really can’t wait to see what Bennett thinks of me in it. 

“Okay,” she chimes. “Change and we’ll checkout. Then how about we get some lunch? I’m starving.”

“Sounds good. Do you mind if I invite Willow?” I ask, referring to my friend and brother’s girlfriend. “I haven’t had a chance to see her since I’ve been back.”

“Yeah, of course. That’ll be fun.”

I lock myself in the dressing room and change back into my navy skirt and white top and coat. My mom’s waiting for me outside the changing room and she takes the dress from me so she can go checkout. While she does that, I send a text to Willow and browse the shoes and jewelry. 

My phone vibrates in my hand with a text from Willow saying she’ll meet us there. 

My mom finds me, bag in her hand, and we head out to the car and to the restaurant.

We beat Willow there so we sit in the car to wait for her. She pulls up ten minutes later in her SUV and runs over to the car. I get out and she shrieks in excitement before squeezing me tight. Willow and I went through a rough patch a few months ago, nothing serious but our friendship needed some TLC, and now we’re back on track. 

“I’ve missed you.” She smiles widely at me. Willow has the kind of smile that takes over her whole face, and it’s infectious so I find myself smiling in response. Her blond hair is a wild mess of curls, like she forgot to brush it this morning, and her cheeks are flushed with happiness. Willow’s one of those people who’s almost always happy. The minute she’s not smiling or bouncing off the wall, you know something is seriously wrong. 

“I’ve missed you too.” I let her go and we just stare at each other for a moment, taking in the small changes that have happened while we were apart. I notice her hair’s gotten a little darker and she’s cut it shorter so it now brushes her shoulders. 

“How’s college treating you?” she asks as we walk up the steps into the restaurant.

“Good,” I answer. “I took way too many classes.” I laugh. “But I like it.”

She makes a face. “That makes one of us.”

Willow should’ve been in her second year at NYU but over the summer she decided college wasn’t for her. At, least not right now. Maybe one day she’ll go back, or maybe not, and that’s okay. I know Willow enough to know she’s not going to sit on her ass and do nothing with her life. 

“What have you been up to?” I ask her.

“Working on my blog,” she answers. “I’ve been talking to Liam a lot and he’s teaching me the basics of photography,” she says, referring to her cousin who lives all the way on the coast of California. I haven’t seen him in a few years but he’s a professional surfer now. 

“That’s cool.” I bump my shoulder with hers playfully as we follow my mom inside the restaurant. Someone immediately appears to take us to our seats.

“I haven’t been here since your graduation dinner,” Willow tells me, looking around with a wistful smile.

“Me either. Is Liam coming home for Christmas this year?” I ask her as we take our seats. I pick up the menu from the table and look it over. 

“I think so,” she says. “Mathias and Remy said they’d skin him alive if he didn’t.” She laughs. 

“He has a girlfriend now, right?” I ask, trying to remember things she’s told me over the last few months.

“Yeah. She’s nice, but …”

“But what?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “She dragged him into a whole heap of trouble. It wasn’t pretty.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused. 

“What rock do you live under?” she asks. “It was all over the news.”

“I’ve been busy,” I reason.

“True,” she agrees. “Well, that’s his story to tell, not mine.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Now, let’s eat.”

“I missed you.” Bennett climbs into bed behind me and wraps his arms around me. I know I should kick him out, like I should’ve done every other night since we made this official, but I can never bring myself to do it. I like these stolen moments with him too much to give it up. 

 I roll over and kiss him, tangling my legs in his. “What’d you do today?”

“Played hockey.”

“Really?” I ask surprised.

He nods. “Drove down to D.C. and hung out with the team there. I have a few friends there.”

I rub the facial hair on his cheeks. “Do you think they might take you after your contract ends?”

He shrugs. “I talked to the coach some but I won’t get my hopes up.”

I frown. “I hate that you’re not allowed to play with your team. I know you miss it.”

He sighs. “I really fucking do, but I’m fighting an uphill battle with Matthews.”

“Have you talked to that player? The one you saw him give steroids to?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“I think you should.” I trace my fingers over his lip. “Look at the way Matthews is basically blackmailing you. You don’t know what’s really going on there. There might be more to the story than that guy being your coach’s puppet.”

He nods. “You might be right.”

“We have a rink here in town—no fancy arena, that’s for sure—but I want you to teach me how to skate.”

His lips tip up. “Princess doesn’t know how to ice skate?”

I shake my head. “I was more into dancing on dry land.”

He chuckles and kisses the end of my nose. “Let’s go tomorrow.”

I nod and snuggle closer to him. “Just don’t let me fall on my ass.”

His chuckle rumbles against my ear. “No promises, sweetheart.”

Grace falls on her ass after approximately five seconds on the ice. I bust out laughing instead of helping her up.

“You’re such an asshole!” she curses me, trying to get up on her own, which results in her legs kicking wildly. Thankfully, we’re the only ones on the ice. “Help me up, dickwad!”

I hold my hand out to her. “You’re so nice to me.”

“Yeah, well, you promised not to let me fall.”

“Actually, sweetheart,” I say sickeningly sweet, “I said
no
promises.”

“Ugh, I hate you.” She glares at me—and if looks could kill, I’d be dead. She holds onto my arm so tight that I’m afraid she’s going to cut off the blood circulation.

“You know, for this to be classified as ice
skating,
we actually have to move.”

“I’m not ready!” she cries, terrified I’m about to send her flying across the ice.

“Calm down, Princess. We’ll take baby steps.”

“Don’t let me fall,” she whimpers.

“Babe, you already did that, and chances are, you’re going to do it again. It happens.”

She gives me a mean look like she wishes a hole would open beneath me and eat me alive. 

She takes a deep breath as we take a tentative step across the ice.

She lets out a small scream as we glide and tightens her hold on my arm. 

“Grace, you’re going to have to let go of me.”

“No,” she cries.

“Hold onto my hand,” I plead. “I can’t move when you’re holding onto me like a goddamn spider monkey.”

She slowly releases her vice-like grip on my arm and entwines our fingers together. She shrieks as her legs wobble.

“I thought this would be easy,” she mumbles.

I laugh. “Most people think that, but it takes some getting used to. You can do it.”