Page 57 of These Wicked Games
“How the fuck was I going to know your mother would call?”
“You would have anyway. You would have found some other way!”
“Oli—” He sounds crazy.
“Then I got called in . . . your cup. I lost fucking everything. The Vipers were going to sign me that week. I would have gotten a contract. I could have paid for everything for her!” He heaves. “Instead, I lost that contract, with my dream team! I couldn’t get her the care she needed. She spent her last months in pain, sufferingbecause I didn’t have the money to get her better care. She gave everything to me and I can never pay her back!” he sobs.
No one moves, talks, or even breathes. Oli comes undone, my stomach clenching as tears spill down his face. His head sags, his hands braced on the table. I don’t know what to do to make this better. I try to make sense of this. The cup . . . that doesn’t even make sense. Dr. Wexel had taken both of our cups from me. The labels were fine when I handed them over. I never saw the cup because I passed.
When I shouldn’t have.
I just thought I’d diluted the drug enough to pass. No one would have had access to the tests besides the doctor, and my father. Which meant that one of them had something to do with it. I can believe my father faking my results, but to switch it with Oli’s? Why? What would even be the point of that? None of what happened makes sense.
Carefully I walk to him. He’s breathing hard, just staring at the table. “Oli.” I dare to pull his attention to me. “Look me in my eyes.” I glare right at him, through him. Tears are falling from his face. The table looks like it’s going to splinter with the grip he has on it. “I didn’t switch the labels. I’m not lying. I would never, ever do that to you. You were my best friend too. I—” I bite my tongue, not wanting to admit what I felt for him back then. Not right now. “You’ve hated me for ten years. I have nothing else to lose when it comes to you. I promise you, I did not switch the labels.” His jaw clenches and he looks away from me. I want to fix this. “Please, Oli.”
Shaking his head, he straightens. “I don’t know what to believe.”
“What would I even gain? Yeah, I got that contract, but I didn’t give a shit about that team and you know that. It’s not the money. I already had plenty. I didn’t care about getting caught because I didn’t really give a shit.” I step in front of him, forcing his gaze onto me. We’re nose to nose, and I refuse to back down. “You were the closest person to me. I never wanted anything but the best things for you. There was a mistake, and if I’d known it was the cup, I would have said something.”
“You didn’t know about the cup?”
“No, why would they show me the cups? I just passed.”
“But you didn’t think you would.”
“I only smoked a little weed the week before. I was drinking so many fucking sports drinks I thought I’d diluted it enough. I knew someone who had done it and they told me to try it. I just assumed.” I watch his eyes on me, and something like recognition flashes through his eyes.
“You didn’t see the cups,” he says softly.
“No.”
“I assumed you saw yours. That’s why . . . I thought, because . . .” He takes a deep breath. “I thought you saw the cup without the hearts and never said anything. That’s why I assumed.”
“If I had seen the cup, I would have said something. I didn’t give a shit about the drug test. I told you that.”
“You wouldn’t have gotten signed, though.”
I shrug. “So? What would have happened to me, Oli? I’d spend some time in a substance abuse program, and what? Then fall back on my father’s millions while I wait for another team.” I would definitely have been beaten black and blue, but that was nothing new back then. Part of me didn’t even want on the Vipers becauseof my father’s legacy. “You were the only thing I had to lose, Oli. And I lost you anyway.” I cup his face and make him look at me. “Please, I need you to believe me.”
Oli is unreadable, his eyes glaring. Then it’s like seeing a building demolished in real time. Oli crumbles into me. I hold him up, and his arms tighten around my waist as he buries his face into my neck. I hold him so hard I must be hurting him. My right hand comes up to cup the back of his head while I hold him. “I want to believe you,” I hear him say.
“I promise, Oli. I had nothing to do with it.” I think back to that day. Could my father have paid off the doctor? More importantly, why? If he’d wanted me to pass, he could have just forged my records. Why hurt Oli? It doesn’t make any sense at all. My father treated Oli like one of his own.
His eyes search mine before the tension dissolves, and he kisses me hard. I melt into him, cupping his face and taking his lips greedily. “Wait, wait.” I take a breath, already feeling his kiss go to my brain. “You’re drunk, you’ve been drinking.”
Oli’s brows pinch. “This is sparkling grape juice.” Well shit, I was wondering why I was still sober. “We have practice and media tomorrow!” His face pinches, his brow cocked, and he shakes his head. “We need to be one hundred percent. What’s wrong with you?”
I laugh, bringing his lips back to me. “Oli, kiss me.”
His eyes look at the mess he’s made on the floor. “Sorry I ruined dinner.”
My thumbs run along his cheek bones. “This was the best date I could ask for.”
“If I’m going to trust you, you can’t be lying to me.”
I smile. “Oli, please.” He leans in, taking my lips like he owns them. My fingers reach out, slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt, my heart becoming more frantic with each one that comes loose. I run my fingers down the expanse of his chest, and Oli grabs me around the waist, lifting me up onto one of his bar stools. The soft cushion swivels as he settles me on it.
He shoves his tongue back into my mouth, and I take him greedily. Fuck, I want him, and I want to know if this is it. A fresh start. Does he finally believe me? “Oli, I need you,” I groan, reaching into his pants. His fingers grip my hand and a devilish smile spreads along his full lips.
