The Love Game (The Game, #1)

CHAPTER Forty-Four – Braden

It's Thursday night, and some prick – I don't know who – had decided to have a party at the frat house. I'd put my money on Aston. He's been trying to get me out of my 'f*ckin' ridiculous mood' since Maddie left.
But it doesn't work like that.
She's been in Brooklyn for five days now. Every day she's there, she's not here. I know, Captain F*cking Obvious with that statement, but I want her here.
I want her here in front of me so I can cup her cheeks and wipe away the tears. I want to hold her and promise her the world, apologize for everything. I want to know she feels the same. I want to know it wasn't just a game for her, either.
The worst part is I'd play it all over again if it meant another few weeks where we were happy.
“Look, I'm not interested.” I gently push yet another girl away from me. She pouts and sticks her chest out, batting her eyelashes. I sigh and shake my head, turning my attention to where Megan is throwing back shots with Kay. The girl behind me disappears.
Megan catches my eye and smiles sadly. I stand and push my way over to her.
“Have you spoken to her?” I ask hopefully. She hesitates. “Megan!”
She nods. “Today.”
“And?”
“She'll be back tomorrow,” she answers softly. “She's done everything she needed to.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don't really know what rights you have to ask that question, Carter.” Kay raises an eyebrow at me.
I look at her. “And I don't get what rights you have to bitch to me, considering you're part of the reason we're both f*ckin' miserable – and why Maddie is in Brooklyn.”
She looks away, ashamed, and Megan flinches.
“Meggy, I know you never-”
“But we did,” she interrupts me. “We did hurt you, and we hurt both of you. If anyone is to blame, it's us, and Ryan and Aston. They have to accept their part in it.” She scowls over my shoulder. “Especially Aston.”
I don't even wanna look.
“We're all a little to blame, I guess.” I shrug. “I just have to hope I can make it up to her when she gets back. If she wants to talk to me.”
“If she wants to see you,” Kay reminds me. “Hey, I'm just sayin', ya know? She didn't before.”
“Thanks, Kay,” I snap and turn, pushing my way through the kitchen to the yard.
Ignoring a couple making out against the wall, I jump from the porch and head towards the trees at the end of the grass. I lean back against a tree and pull my cell from my pocket, scrolling through the numbers until I reach hers. My finger hovers over the call button, but I eventually settle on sending a text. I write several and delete them all, settling on three words – three secondary words, 'cause I'm too damn chicken to send the real ones.
I miss you.