The Love Game (The Game, #1)

CHAPTER Thirty-Eight - Braden

Something in me shatters as I walk away from her. I don't know what it is, and I can't think straight enough to even care what it is. I just know it was a big part of me – a big part of me that was all about her.
“F*ck!” I punch the wall outside the frat house and rest my head against it. “F*ck,” I mutter more quietly, pushing off of it and storming through the door.
The door slams into the wall behind it, the noise rebounding off the walls of the hallway. I kick it shut behind me, seeing red everywhere. Anger is all I can let myself feel.
But anger at what? Her? Me? Anger because I fell? Anger because she played me like I should have her?
“What the hell?” Aston's face appears at the top of the stairs. “Braden?”
I look up at him, my chest heaving as I try to control the bubbling emotions in my chest. I grip the banister with a shaking hand and run up the stairs two at a time, my shoulder knocking into Aston as I pass him.
“Dude? What?” He throws his arms out and follows me up the second staircase. I reach my room, shove the door open, and slam it in his face. Of all the people I want to see right now.... He's not one of them.
“Braden!”
“F*ck off, Aston,” I hiss the words out between my grinding teeth. My fists clench at my sides, and I drop my head back, looking up at the ceiling.
“What’s happened?”
What's happened? She happened.
“This.... Challenge f*cking happened.” I turn to look at him, and he flinches slightly at the venom in my tone. “She happened. All this 'make her fall in love' bullshit is just that. F*cking bullshit! 'Cause guess what? I got played when I was tryin' to play her. She f*cked me, in more ways than one, ‘cause it was all a damn lie. Now it's over. It's f*ckin' over!”
I grab the lamp from the desk and chuck it against the wall. The china base smashes, pieces flying across my room.
“Dude, you have to calm down.” Aston steps forward warily, holding his hands up.
“You know what, Aston? You go out, fall in love with someone and when she breaks your heart, you tell me you can be f*ckin' calm!” I yell. “Get the f*ck out of my room. Now!”
He nods once and steps back. My door shuts with a click. Alone.
Me, the four walls, and a shattered lamp.
A game. Was it as much a game for her as it was for me? No. Because it wasn't a game for me, not in the end. It was real, maybe it was always real. But not for her. No. It was a game to f*cking all of them. And Meggy....
My best friend. My. Best. F*cking. Friend. She knew what she was doing. Double the betrayal.

~

I lie back on my bed, my hands linked behind my head. My feet are crossed at the ankles, and I'm staring at the ceiling numbly. Last night's anger has subsided, courtesy of two hours sleep, and I'm fighting the sting left by the loss of Maddie. It's Saturday, and I should be meeting her for coffee right now.
Of course, that won't be happening today.
My door opens, the squeak of the hinges giving it away. My eyes flick over, a part of me stupidly hoping its Maddie. What for? An explanation?
I look back to the ceiling, disinterested, when I see Megan. I don't exactly want to see her any more than I want to see anyone else right now.
“I'm sorry,” she whispers.
“What are you sorry for, Megan? You did what you wanted.”
“I'm sorry because until last night, I assumed she was still just sex to you,” she admits. “But I was wrong, wasn't I? She's more than that.”
I roll my head to the side, meeting her baby blue eyes. “Look at me, Megan. Do I look like I want to discuss Maddie, you, or any of that bullshit right now?” She shakes her head sadly. “Then you know where my door is.”
“Bray-”
“Here's a hint. You just walked through it. Goodbye, Megan.”
She sighs sadly and turns. She stops, her hand poised on the doorknob. “She's hurting, too, Bray. At first, it was all a game, but it doesn't take a genius to see that it's not for Maddie. Not anymore. She was crushed last night, and I haven't even seen her yet today.” Her voice is soft. “I've read a thousand books and watched all the romantic movies in the world, but nothing has ever been as real as what you two had. Nothing has even come close to it.”
She opens the door and passes through, letting it shut behind her with a soft click. I stare at the door, tracing the pattern of the wood with my eyes.
Eventually, I return my attention to the blank canvas of the ceiling, fighting down the same old sting yet again.