Page 45 of Fake Game

“Or you can just let it eat you alive, up to you.”

I pause, pressing my lips together as I glare up at him.

This time, he looks down at me and his stare drowns out all the sound around us. He reaches a hand out, tugging on a loose wave of hair. “There’s nothing wrong with wearing a mask. I would know. Just make sure you take the time to breathe because it can become stifling back there, and you don’t want to suffocate. Sometimes, you have to let people in so you can take a break for fresh air.” He releases my hair and turns to head back inside without so much as another look. “Don’t forget to lock the door behind you.”

My lips part, tempted to ask him to wait, to stay, but the words get stuck in my throat. I am already imposing on him, living in his apartment, sleeping in his bed. I don’t need to take any more from him.

But my guilt is quickly replaced with regret as I’m left standing in the cold, alone.

Always alone.

I feel too exposed out here, awareness prickling its way up my body. But when I head back into the quiet apartment andlock the balcony door, the resounding click echoes in my bones, hollowing me out. My ears hum with the sound of a thousand dragonflies as I stare absently through the glass door, a million thoughts crashing into me at once.

I have no idea what I’m doing anymore.

Everything is going wrong.

My breathing picks up as my brain feels like it is being plunged underwater.

“Deer?”

A strong hand curls around my own, which is still clutching the door handle. I blink and startle back, my shoulders bumping into a hard chest. That strong hand comes up to curl around my bicep and steadies me.

“Are you okay?”

The pure concern in his voice, it’s something I’ve never heard before, and it cracks a shard open within my battered, armored soul.

“No.”

The word is barely a whisper through my lips, but I know he heard me because his grip tightens on my bicep ever so slightly. Without saying anything else, he pulls me against his bare chest, his arms wrapping around me.

My brain short-circuits.

His skin feels hot against my cold body, and I let that warmth seep into me. I let it spread through my system and fill in the broken cracks of loneliness and guilt and fear.

I’ve always acknowledged that Jackson is massive, but never as much as in this very moment. I feel tiny compared to him, and the way his body cocoons mine makes me feel safe—the safest I’ve felt in weeks. Which is weird, considering how at odds we normally are with each other.

Jackson and I aren’t close, but right now there’s a connection in the way my heart begins to alter its beat to match the rhythm echoing through his chest. The steady thump grounds me.

He doesn’t say anything else as he rubs soft circles against my skin.

Just this once, I’ll let myself accept the comfort.

Just this once.

I’ll let someone into my shiny castle to see how it is crumbling inside.

ELEVEN

JACKSON

MOM:Don’t forget your date tonight

MOM:It’s at Chá House.

MOM:Jackson?

MOM:??

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