Reckless Games: A Rixon High Novella

by L A Cotton

  “Jeez, thanks for the encouragement.”

  “Hey, you messed up. Now you have to own it and figure out what you want, Bryan. Graduation is right around the corner, and something tells me Carrie-Anne isn’t looking to play games or risk her heart. Which means you have to make a choice. Are you in or are you out?”

  Jesus. My eyes shuttered as the weight of her words sank into me.

  “Your silence suggests this caught you off guard,” Peyton said, softly.

  “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s Carrie-Anne.” She was smart, way smarter than me. I bet she had all kinds of plans for the future. What the hell could I offer her? I was heading to Michigan in the fall. It would be over before we even got started.

  “Nothing worth having comes easy, Bryan. But Carrie-Anne is my friend and she’s more fragile than you might think. Did you know her parents are getting a divorce?”

  “They are? Shit. I didn’t—”

  “Why would you? The two of you have never really had a proper conversation. But maybe it’s time you did.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Why is this so important to you?”

  “Because you’re one of my best friends, Bryan, and I want you to be happy. I want you to find your person.”

  “And you think Carrie-Anne is my person?” I snorted. Because yeah, we shared some weird chemistry, but my person? I wasn’t sure I believed that.

  Peyton chuckled. “I guess that’s what you have to figure out.”

  Saturday, Gav persuaded me to head down to Riverside and check out the food trucks. It was a popular hangout since it had a pier, an arcade, and a ton of picnic benches along the promenade.

  I didn’t expect to see Carrie-Anne there with a guy. They were just inside the arcade, playing pool. Or he was helping her play, folded over her body as he helped her line up the shot.

  “Is that—”

  “Yep.” I clicked my tongue, hardly able to believe my eyes.

  “Damn, did she just get like ten times hotter because she’s hanging out with a good-looking guy?”

  “Shut up,” I grumbled, unable to tear my eyes away as she took the shot, sinking the ball in one. She spun around and threw her arms around the guy, smiling at him like he hung the fucking moon.

  But Gav wasn’t wrong. The dude was hot, as far as dudes went. Tall and ripped, his biceps bulged out of his t-shirt.

  “Good for her.”

  Gav stuttered as I slammed my elbow into his ribs before stalking off in the other direction. I didn’t want to see her with another guy.

  What a fucking idiot. I’d actually believed Peyton after her little pep talk last night. But if this wasn’t proof that Carrie-Anne wasn’t interested, I didn’t know what was.

  “Hey.” Gav jogged after me. “What’s wrong with—oh shit, you’re jealous.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, I think you are. You like her, don’t you? Like, really like her.”

  “Fuck off.” I veered around him and carried on walking away from the arcade.

  But Gav had other ideas.

  “I think I’m going to check out the virtual coaster,” he called. “I’ll be in the arcade if you want—”

  “Seriously?” I whirled on him. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “Me?” He smirked. “I’m just here for the games.”

  “Asshole,” I muttered, falling into step beside him.

  Thank fuck, there was no sign of Carrie-Anne and her friend or date or whoever the fuck he was. Because after seeing her with that guy, I wasn’t thinking straight.

  And I didn’t want to do anything reckless.

  “He just left her to go line up for slushies, you should go now.”

  “Go. Go where?” I frowned.

  “To talk to her, dipshit. You’ve been staring at her for the last thirty minutes. It’s borderline creepy.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Look.” Gav nudged me. “I’ll be over there, go do your thing. Just try to stay out of trouble.”

  “This isn’t a good idea,” I said, more to myself than him. But my feet were already moving in her direction.

  The second she spotted me, her eyes widened. “B-Bryan? What are you—”

  “We need to talk.” I snagged her hand and pulled her toward the back of the arcade where the emergency exit was. Shouldering the door open, we spilled into the afternoon sun.

  “What the hell is your problem?”

  “Who’s the guy?”

  “What?”

  “The guy, who is he?”

  “You mean Jude?” She stared at me with disbelief.

  “Jude.” His name tasted like ash on my tongue.

  “How long have the two of you been seeing each other?”

  “Seeing each other…” She gawked. “You think… oh this is good. Let me guess, you’re jealous.”

  “So, what if I am? What are you going to do about it? Kiss me? Hit me? Hurt me?” Although I was pretty sure it couldn’t hurt anymore than seeing her pressed up close to Jude.

  I didn’t even know him, but I already hated him.

  “You’re crazy,” Carrie-Anne shrieked. “You treated me like a charity case. You made me feel… You know what, it doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, moving around me. “I’m leaving.”

  “Like hell you are.” I grabbed her and crowded her against the side of the building.

  “Bryan,” she seethed, anger rippling off her. “This is crazy. You’re acting—”

  “You’re right, it is fucking crazy. I can’t get you out of my head. The way you tasted, how good you felt pressed up against me, your lips on mine.” My hand slid along her collarbone and up the side of her neck, until my fingers were buried in her silky hair.

  “You only want me because you saw me with someone else.” Hurt flashed in her eyes, and the overwhelming need to kiss it right out of her overcame me. But there was every chance she would knee me straight in the balls if I so much as made a move to touch her any more than I already was.

  “That’s not it, at all,” I whispered.

  “So, what is it?”

  Fuck, the way she stared up at me, all defiant and challenging. As if she knew I would never admit the truth.

  “I… fuck it.” I smashed my mouth down on hers, pressing her into the wall. Her arms came around my neck, her fingers digging into my shoulders as my tongue slipped past her lips and coaxed her to join me.

  Fuck, she tasted good.

  She tasted like she was mine.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen, but here we were, making out like we needed it to survive.

  “Jesus, Kitty Cat,” I rasped between kisses. “Do you have any idea how insane you drive me?”

  I braced myself for her snarky retort, but Carrie-Anne wasn’t kissing me anymore. In fact, she was deathly still.

  “What’s—”

  “Stop, just stop.” She slammed her hands against my chest and pushed hard, enough that I staggered back. “You don’t get to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Kiss me like I’m just a toy you can pick up and play with then throw away whenever you feel like it. It’s not fair.”

  “Carrie-Anne, that’s not what this is, I swear.”

  “This is just a game to you,” she seethed. “You saw me with Jude and—”

  “For fuck’s sake, this isn’t about Jude. Where did he even come from? You never said anything about—”

  “He’s my cousin, asshole.”

  “C-cousin?” Shit. “Caz, I didn’t—”

  “Do you know what, Bryan…” She let out a resigned sigh. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I want no part of it. Just stay away from me.”

  Carrie-Anne

  When Monday rolled around, I was still pissed at the way Bryan had manhandled me and kissed me, again.

  Only calling it just a kiss didn’t quite do justice to the way he’d reduced me to a breathless, boneless mess. All with his tongue and teeth and
lips.

  God, that boy knew what he was doing.

  But he’d stolen another kiss… and worse than that—I’d enjoyed it.

  He had felt too good pressed up against me, his hands tangled in my hair. But yet again, it was tainted by the fact he was acting out of jealousy.

  I spent the morning avoiding him. It was easier than I anticipated, given Bryan didn’t show up for math. And at lunch, I had an appointment with the guidance counsellor, so I managed to avoid the cafeteria.

  She wanted to touch base about my place at OSU. Mrs. Bennet knew about my parents’ divorce and financial situation. It wasn’t like I had many people to talk to about it, so I’d come to her earlier in the semester.

  It was looking like financial aid was my best option. My only option if I wanted to keep my place.

  I couldn’t think about it right now though. Not with the rest of the leaves to engrave. Miss Denton needed them finished by the end of the week. Which meant I needed to work flat out after school to get them all done.

  At least it would keep my mind off Bryan and his treacherous, sinful kisses.

  Jude had teased me the entire weekend about it. Of course, I’d denied everything, but he knew. Jude knew me better than anyone. He was the one person in the entire world I could count on. But since he’d started college, I didn’t get to see him half as much as I would have liked.

  As soon as the final bell went, I made my way to the Art Department. The last people I expected to see loitering in the hall were Joseph and Sorcha.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, instantly on high alert.

  “How did you do it?”

  “Do what?” I asked, clueless.

  “Oh, don’t play dumb, Carrie-Anne, it doesn’t suit you.” Sorcha sneered. “Did you pay him? Offer him sexual favors if he helped you?”

  Joe snickered at that, and I bristled.

  “Look.” I sighed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s pathetic.”

  “So pathetic,” Joe echoed.

  “Are you done?” I snapped, growing tired of their passive aggressive bullshit. “Because I have better things to do than listen to the two of you.”

  Neither of them replied, instead smirking as they walked away.

  With a burst of frustration, I slammed the doors open to the Art Department and froze, unable to believe my eyes.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I hissed at Bryan.

  He carefully placed down the soldering tool and spun his stool around to face me. “Hello to you, too.” He grinned.

  He actually grinned.

  I was going to kill him. I was going to grab the soldering tool and burn him to death. It was one thing to play games with my heart, but to sabotage my project… well, that was unforgivable.

  “How could—” I creeped closer, and the words died on my tongue as I realized something wasn’t right.

  Bryan wasn’t destroying the leaves or writing crude or funny messages. He was engraving messages onto them.

  He was… helping.

  “Bryan?” I croaked.

  “So, funny story.” He got up and closed the distance between us. Thankfully, he didn’t touch me. I wasn’t sure I could handle it. My heart was already beating ridiculously fast, my palms slick with sweat.

  “I think I like you, Kitty Cat. I don’t know when or how it happened, but it did. And I know I messed up. I know I really screwed things up, but I’m a guy, we do dumb shit.”

  I snorted. “You sound like Peyton.”

  “I do? Huh.” He rubbed his jaw, never taking his eyes off me. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’m an asshole. I act before I think. I goof around far more than I should, and I don’t take life too seriously. But underneath all that, I’m just a guy with a thing for a girl.”

  “Bryan, I—” I went to step back, but he hooked his fingers into my belt loops, anchoring us together. “I know you overheard me say those things, Caz. And I’m sorry. I won’t lie, I do find you annoying and obnoxious and judgmental. But you’re also sweet and talented and smart and pretty.”

  “Pretty?” I whispered, my heart fit to burst out of my chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called pretty before.”

  “It’s true.” His mouth curved into a half-smile. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of crazy for you.” He pulled me closer, close enough I had to crane my neck to see him.

  “You hurt me, Bryan.”

  “I know, Kitty Cat. Shit, I know. But I spent all day soldering the rest of the leaves and I—”

  “Wait, you soldered them all day?”

  He nodded. “There’s a handful left, but they’re almost done.”

  “I can’t believe you did that.”

  No one had ever gone out of their way to help me. Not like this.

  Stepping out of his hold, I went over to the desk and picked up one of the newly engraved leaves. “It looks great. They all do,” I said, running my eyes over them.

  Bryan chuckled. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.” He came up behind me and folded his arms around my waist. “Forgive me, Kitty Cat?”

  I leaned my head back against his shoulder, tilting my face slightly to see him.

  “I’m not like the other girls you’ve been with,” I warned. “I don’t have… experience like they do. I don’t wear sexy clothes or watch what I eat or care about having a Barbie-perfect appearance.”

  “Sexy is overrated.” He grinned down at me. “But you’re wrong, you know. The way you give zero fucks. Sexy.” He pecked the end of my nose. “The way you stood up to those two assholes out in the hall. Sexy.” He dropped his lips to my cheek, kissing me there. “The way you put me in my place, more than once. Sexy. As. Hell.” Another kiss, this time lingering at the corner of my mouth. “You make me hot, Carrie-Anne. You make me want things.”

  His words were like liquid lust in my veins.

  “But this is all just a game…” I stuttered.

  “No, Kitty Cat, it isn’t. It’s real, and I think that terrifies you.” Bryan spun me in his arms and touched his head to mine. “You were the curveball I didn’t see coming.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say.”

  “It’s pretty simple.” He was grinning now. “Carrie-Anne Trombley, do you like me?”

  “I…” I snapped my lips together, not trusting myself to speak, and nodded once.

  “And do you want to be with me?”

  Another nod. “But I’m scared,” I whispered. “It’s almost graduation and then we’ll both be heading off to college.” My gaze darted to the ground, but Bryan was right there, sliding his finger under my jaw and forcing me to look at him.

  “Listen, we can’t know what will happen in a week, or a month, or by the end of the summer. But I’m done fighting this thing between us. I like you, Carrie-Anne. I like you a lot. And I want to explore it. We don’t have to label it or push it, but believe me when I say, I want this. I want you.”

  Dead.

  I was pretty sure I had died and gone to heaven.

  Bryan liked me.

  He wanted me.

  Me.

  It couldn’t be real. And yet, I felt his hands on my body, his warm breath on my face. I felt his piercing gaze searching my eyes for answers.

  Answers I wasn’t sure I had yet.

  “What do you say, Kitty Cat? Want to make out with me in Miss Denton’s supply closet?”

  “Oh my God.” Nervous laughter bubbled in my chest.

  “Relax, I’m joking.” His brows waggled, his smile making me all soft inside. “Although, I’d totally be down with some closet action.”

  A shiver ran through me as I imagined it. Him. Us. Secreted away in the dark closet.

  “You like the sound of that, huh?” He wrapped me in his strong arms. “Maybe another day. I kinda had plans for us.”

  “You did?” My brows furrowed.

  “Yeah, if that’s okay?”

  I nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
>
  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s finish up with these leaves then get out of here.”

  Nervous energy zipped through me as Bryan drove us to his house. Although house wasn’t a good enough word to describe the mini mansion looming up ahead.

  “Wow,” I said. “This is… nice.”

  His smooth laughter eased the knot in my stomach. “It’s just bricks and mortar, Kitty Cat.”

  It really wasn’t. Bryan’s house was something straight out of a magazine. And I couldn’t believe I was here.

  “It looks impressive, but trust me, it’s no fun spending most of your life home alone.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “My parents… they’re away a lot.”

  “My parents are getting divorced,” I blurted out.

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “Let me guess, Peyton?” She was the only person I’d told.

  “Yeah, apparently, she thought I should know.”

  “I don’t want your pity, Bryan.”

  “Never. But I get it. I get what it’s like to have parents who make things difficult.” He smiled and it made my heart flutter. “Come on.”

  Bryan got out and came around to get my door. I slipped my hand in his and together we went inside. “Everything is so pretty.”

  “My parents like the finer things in life.”

  There was something so sad about the way he said the words. I turned to him and said, “And what do you like?”

  “You.” He grinned. “I like you.”

  Heat pooled low in my stomach. The way he looked at me—it was incendiary, burning me up on the inside.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I…” I swallowed, dipping my gaze to his mouth.

  “Come here.” Bryan took hold of my wrist and tugged me into him, burying his other hand deep into my hair. Shivers raced down my spine as he ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “I could kiss you for days on end and never grow tired of it.” He leaned in. “Open up for me, Kitty Cat.”

  God. His rough voice made me tremble.

  “Bryan, I—”

  “Ssh, Caz, I got you.” He kissed me. Slow and sure, tangling his tongue with mine, exploring my mouth as if he had all the time in the world. “What do you want, Kitty Cat?”