Page 66 of Hate Game

“It’s not expected of me.”

“Explain,” he says with a grumpy face.

“Trace has a reputation for breaking girls’ hearts. I won’t be the exception. I’ll get bullied more for being the heartbreaker.”

“His reputation needs a good pummeling. Humble the boy, Rue.”

“That’s for another girl to do.” Sorrow Sophia. “Anyways, he’s your friend, and I like him.”

“Will you have more guy friends after graduation?” Hardened eyes and a clenched jaw replaces the grumpy expression.

Why is he angry? He’ll have so many girls wanting his attention that he’ll forget I exist.

“I’m hoping so. I’m more of a guy’s girl than a girl’s girl.” I shrug. Leigh is one of the few girls I trust and can call a friend. Baily is another good friend, but we’re not close. The closest friend I had, other than Red, is Malice.

“What about you? Will you have friend girls wherever you land?”

“Wherever I land?”

“Well, yeah. You’re not planning on sticking around Cambridge, remember?” My heart aching, I lean into him until we’re forehead to forehead, eye to eye. “You’ll have your pick of the girls. They’ll be your friends and your girlfriends. What a rough life you have ahead of you, Malice.”

By then, I’ll be over him. I’ll wish for Malice’s happiness every time I remember his smile, laughter, and compliments about my hair, eyes, and lips.

“There will be plenty of other guys for them to choose from. College campuses are huge with thousands of students.”

He doesn’t deny having his pick of girls. I crawl back into my seat. “Can we head back to your place now? It’s a school night, and I need my beauty sleep.”

He sets his hand on my thigh. Malice’s large paw is heavy and warm. “I don’t want you anywhere near Mason’s place again, you hear?”

“He’s my friend.”

“Friend, my ass. The only reason a thirty-three-year-old has a girl your age over is for easy tail.”

“Are you saying I’m a slut?”

“Rue.”

“I have every right to stay over at my friend’s house. I stayed over at Shay’s, Red’s, and Winslow’s. Will you ban me from their places too?”

“Hell, yeah. Where you go, I go, and no way in bloody hell will I step foot in your boys’ places.”

“Will you stop having Cassie over if I do?”

“I was already planning on it. My place should only be lived in by us, Rue.”

My irritation and anger deflate like a popped balloon.

“Really?”

“Yes. It didn’t feel right having Cassie in my room.”

“Again,” I say.

He sighs. “Again.”

He puts me back on his lap and cradles my face in his palms. “Spend the night with me in my bed, Rue. Make new memories and take away the old ones. We’ll cuddle. Talk. Wake up together.”

“Just cuddling?”

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