Well Played

by J. S. Scott

  I’d tried to get myself together. I’d gotten dressed, and tried to pull myself out of my full-blown rage over Jack’s betrayal.

  If I was truthful—which I generally wasn’t—I’d admit that I really needed more explanation. Not that there was any excuse for what had happened, but I guess I needed some kind of insight as to why my fiancée and my best friend since childhood would throw our relationship away just for a fuck.

  Strangely, I wasn’t as sad about Hope as I was about Jack. My best friend and I were like brothers, and had been since we’d met in grade school. Jack had been one of the few people I trusted, and his betrayal had stunned me, not to mention it was making my gut ache with disappointment.

  Lauren went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. She twisted the top off and plopped it down in front of me.

  I looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. “I was hoping for something stronger.”

  Usually, I avoided alcohol. Me and adult beverages didn’t mix together well. I had to stay in peak condition as an athlete. But I’d just lost my fiancée and my best friend, so fuck it.

  She shrugged. “It has to be beer or wine. It’s all we stocked.”

  I took the bottle and chugged half of it before I spoke. “Tell me what happened. I deserve to know what you saw.”

  “Graham, you don’t need to know all of the dirty details—”

  “Tell me,” I interrupted with a demanding tone. “It’s over. I might as well know everything. I’m still trying to understand.”

  I could tell that she was reluctant. She didn’t share anything right away. I watched as she pulled out the Merlot, poured herself a glass, and downed half of it before she opened her mouth to speak. “There isn’t a lot to tell. I came in and found them together. Hope was swallowing my brother’s—penis.”

  The look on her face would have been comical if the outcome hadn’t been so damn tragic. Her distaste of finding her brother in any kind of sexual situation was obvious.

  “It’s called a blow job,” I informed her. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  She nodded hard, but didn’t say a word. I actually had to bite back a smile because she didn’t want to associate Jack with any kind of sex.

  Hell, had Hope really been blowing Jack? That really pissed me off. Never once had she offered to swallow my dick. I had thought she just wasn’t into it.

  Apparently, she just hadn’t been into…me.

  “I found them together,” Lauren explained. “We argued, and Jack left to take Hope to the airport.”

  “So she’s already on her way to Boston?”

  “I assume she is,” Lauren mused. “I’ve been trying to call Jack, but he’s not answering.”

  I slugged the rest of my beer before I said, “He isn’t answering my calls either.”

  Once again, Lauren went into the fridge and slammed another open beer in front of me.

  “I don’t understand why he did it,” I shared. “He doesn’t even know Hope that well. She’s beautiful, but getting off should never come before a friendship.”

  Normally, Lauren and I didn’t talk about anything sexual. But I was way beyond being polite at this point. She wasn’t a kid anymore.

  “Jack and I didn’t exactly have time to talk. He was mortified that I’d walked in on him and Hope, and he didn’t really explain. But Graham, I have to believe that there’s something there between the two of them. You know Jack isn’t the type of guy who betrays his friends.”

  “I’m not sure I really knew him at all,” I said huskily. “I guess I never really knew my fiancée either. And I’m still going to kill your brother, whether he cares about Hope or not.”

  Jack had betrayed my trust, and in my book, that was reason enough to hate the bastard now.

  Lauren made another sandwich and sat that down in front of me. I inhaled it while I polished off my second beer.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I finally told her. Life as I knew it was over, and I was going to have to adjust to the fact that I couldn’t really trust anybody. Maybe I was better off being completely solo. It didn’t hurt as damn much.

  “Have another sandwich,” she suggested as she set more food and another beer in front of me. “When you’re done, I’ll dish you up some chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream.”

  “You picked some up?” It was my favorite, and I was surprised that Lauren remembered. We hadn’t seen much of each other over the last seven years. But I knew my memories of her hadn’t faded. She’d always be like a little sister to me, even though she was all grown up now.

  “Of course. You like it.”

  Lauren knew that one of my weaknesses was food. I had a hell of a time eating healthy because I loved food way too much. Candy. Chips. Popcorn. Ice cream. None of those things were safe around me.

  Maybe because I’d never had any of that stuff as a kid.

  “Thanks. But I don’t think it will taste that great with beer.”

  “You could stop drinking,” she suggested.

  “Not happening. Not tonight.”

  She picked up her wineglass and sat down in a chair next to the counter. “I know you’re hurt. I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better. But I don’t really understand any of this myself. Jack has never done anything remotely like this before. As far as I know, he’s always been faithful to any woman he’s been with, and he’s never been into stealing a woman who’s already with another man. In fact, he thinks there’s some kind of guy code against doing that. It doesn’t make sense.”

  I had to agree with her. Jack had always been loyal to every woman in his life. But that didn’t mean that I still wasn’t going to kill her brother. “He’s a dead man,” I rasped.

  “You aren’t going to kill him. Stop saying that.”

  “You don’t know me as well as you think you do,” I informed her.

  Lauren and I joked around.

  We laughed.

  We had a good time together.

  But she didn’t know the other side of me, the one who wanted to break every bone in Jack’s body.

  “We’ve known each other for a long time, Graham. I think you’re hurt and you’re angry. Honestly, I don’t blame you. I’m mad, too. But I think you should at least hear Jack out. I have no idea what he has to say, but he said he was coming back. I’m sure he wanted to explain.”

  “He should have explained before he fucked my fiancée,” I said angrily.

  “Technically, they weren’t having sex.”

  “So having his dick down her throat was better than screwing her?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t say that. I think oral sex can be more intimate than intercourse.”

  I went and got myself another beer. If I was going to start having a sexual discussion with Lauren, I’d need it. “Thanks for that.”

  “Do you need help with any of the wedding plans?”

  “You mean canceling them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hell, no. I think Hope can handle that since she decided to end it.”

  “I think that’s a healthy attitude.”

  I looked at her in surprise. “Really? Is that what your psychology degree tells you?”

  “Not really,” she admitted. “But I think it’s better if she does it.”

  I gave her a pointed stare. “That so? What else do you think? Is your brother going to end up married to my ex-fiancée, Dr. Freud?”

  Even though she did have a degree in psychology, Lauren had never tried to actually analyze me. It was a good thing she hadn’t. She might have discovered that I was a total head case.

  For some reason, even after all the years that had passed, it was still important for Lauren to see me as her hero. Maybe because nobody else had ever seen me as an honorable guy.

  “I’m not really a fan of Freud’s psychological re
ality theories,” Lauren answered. “And I have no idea what Jack’s plans are concerning Hope. He didn’t tell me.”

  The sadness in her voice made my chest ache just a little. “You’re hurt, too,” I observed.

  Shit, I’d always been a sucker for Lauren’s unhappiness.

  Lauren and Jack were close, and I realized that there was every possibility that she felt as betrayed as I did. Well, maybe not quite as much, but Jack and Lauren usually didn’t have that many secrets.

  “A little,” she confessed. “Okay, maybe a lot. I hate that he took something we loved and ruined it. Aspen has always been our trip: you, me and Jack. How could he do that? Being here was always special, and now it will never be that way again.”

  I hadn’t thought about that earlier, but if Jack had wanted to do Hope, this really wasn’t the place to nail her. We had way too many happy memories in these mountains. “Our friendship will never be the same.”

  “I know. And I hate him for that. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Graham. I don’t have that many real friends who accept me for what I am. Most people think I’m a freak.”

  Fuck! I always hated it when Lauren talked that way about herself. She was gifted, and was capable of absorbing and applying more knowledge than most people would ever be capable of processing and understanding. She should be idolized just for her mental skills alone.

  Lauren definitely wasn’t a freak, but her intelligence level had always made her different to some people. Maybe that’s why we’d bonded when we were younger. But her differences had never made her unlovable. Not to me. I didn’t care how much knowledge she had. All that had ever mattered is that she treated me like somebody important to her, somebody worthy of being her friend and protector.

  “I’m not going to blame you for the sins of your brother.” I wanted to make her the enemy because she was Jack’s sister, but I couldn’t. We had way too much history together. My relationship had been different with Lauren. It hadn’t been the same as what I’d had with Jack. I’d been Lauren’s hero when she was younger, and she’d given me the same unconditional love that she’d give a brother.

  “If you kill him, then we can’t be friends anymore,” she pointed out.

  I shot her a small grin. In a way, I think she was almost angrier than I was. “Then you better keep his sorry ass away from me. No promises.”

  “I don’t think he’s coming back. He would have been here by now,” she said solemnly.

  “It might be better that way.” If I saw Jack now, I’d definitely hurt him.

  “So what do we do now?” she asked.

  I went to the fridge and started loading my arms with beer. I grabbed the bottle of Merlot for Lauren. “We watch some TV and get drunk.”

  “I don’t get drunk. Neither do you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk.”

  “There’s a first time for everything.”

  I hadn’t been drunk since college. But tonight was going to be an exception.

  Hope had just changed my entire life plan, but not everything was bad. I was, after all, the brand new starting quarterback for the Colorado Wildcats. I was a millionaire. And I was going to sell a hell of a lot of underwear over the next several years. My endorsements would earn me a fortune.

  “We didn’t get a chance to celebrate your new contract,” she said in an apologetic voice.

  I motioned for her to follow me into the living room as I took the alcohol, set it up on the coffee table, and then built up the fire. “The contract isn’t final yet, so we can celebrate after I actually sign on the dotted line. It’s late night movie time.”

  “We haven’t done that in a long time.” Lauren dropped back onto the couch I’d found her on when I’d arrived at the cabin.

  She was right. We hadn’t watched old movies late into the night for years. Not since I’d done sleepovers at Jack’s house years ago. His dad had been cool with us all camping out in front of the television for hours at night.

  I smiled as I remembered that, although Jack and I watched until we finally turned the TV off, Lauren had usually fallen asleep after the first movie or two. She’d been so damn cute when she was sleeping that I’d just covered her with a blanket and turned the television down so she didn’t wake up during my marathon movie nights with Jack.

  For whatever reason, Jack wasn’t coming back to my expensive chalet, and I hadn’t had a break since the playoffs. I’d been running around trying to secure my future. Now that I had some free time, I wanted and needed some downtime.

  Just for tonight, I wanted to turn everything off in my brain and enjoy some time with Lauren. I’d really missed her, and I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was all grown up.

  “Maybe I’m not going to end up married to Hope, but the rest of my life is good.” The words left my mouth before I could think about them.

  Strangely, I wasn’t all that upset about the prospect of not having Hope as my wife. I’d liked the idea of the whole marriage thing, but I wasn’t that broken up over losing her.

  I was more upset over losing Jack as a friend.

  “Then do you think you’ll eventually be able to forgive Jack?” Lauren asked.

  “Nope,” I told her sternly. “Never.”

  “What about me?”

  There was a vulnerable look on her face that I didn’t like. My Peanut should never be insecure. “You didn’t do anything, Lauren. There’s nothing to forgive. Are you going to forgive your brother?”

  “Eventually, I suppose. He’s my blood. I love him. But I’m not sure I’ll ever trust him as much as I did before.”

  For some reason, Lauren and Jack being at odds with each other bothered me. I flopped down on the couch next to her and opened another beer. I refilled her wineglass and handed it to her.

  “Find us a channel.” Unlike some guys, I always gave Lauren possession of the remote if she was still awake. She could find any channel a hell of a lot faster than I did.

  Lauren made herself comfortable with her legs in my lap.

  Somewhere between Casablanca and Psycho, I finished every single beer on the table.

  CHAPTER 6

  Lauren

  Lying with my back against the arm of the couch and my legs draped across his thighs, I studied Graham’s profile. He was hurting even though he was trying to play it off as though he wasn’t devastated.

  Me? I was testing my alcohol consumption limit that day, seeking the numbness people claimed they found in the bottom of a bottle. It wasn’t that I didn’t know the physiological effects of alcohol. People called it a depressant, but it was a much more complicated drug. Yes, it suppressed the release of glutamate, which resulted in a slowdown of the brain’s pathways, making it harder to form coherent thoughts, but it also elevated dopamine levels which meant I felt pretty good despite what had happened.

  What Jack had done wasn’t my fault. I felt guilty about telling Graham the truth, even though given the same situation, I would have done it again. Graham deserved not to be sideswiped by this.

  Graham’s home life had toughened him. He didn’t talk about it but Jack and I had gotten glimpses of it over the years. I knew that Graham wanted to keep that side from me and I let him because I selfishly wanted my version of him to be real. He was my protector, my cheerleader. There had been times when I’d wondered if he hid his other side for us or for him. Was he worried that if he was anything but the good friend, the “big brother,” that we wouldn’t still love him?

  Jack had pretty much made that a moot point.

  Even though Graham said it wouldn’t change us, this was likely our last time like this. Jack would return that night or stay away to give Graham time to cool off—either way it would be ugly when they saw each other.

  Aspen would never happen again.

  Jack, Graham and I would never laugh ove
r stupid shit we did as kids. Nothing would ever be the same.

  I drank because my nerves were raw and I wanted this one last time with Graham. I drank for all the things I would never do again and all the things Graham and I had never done.

  “I’ve had sex,” I blurted out.

  Graham shot me an amused look. “That’s good to know.” His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were heavy, but hours of movies and drinking did that to a person. By driving standards, he was inebriated, but he wasn’t fall down drunk. At least, he hadn’t fallen during his last trip to the bathroom. Apparently beer went through a person faster than wine.

  Even though I told myself he was like a brother to me, my pride was a little dented that he did not see me in any other way. It felt important to prove to him that some men did. “You didn’t have to teach me the term for fellatio. I’m familiar with it.”

  He looked at me then looked away. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  Strangely, I did. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

  He shrugged and picked up the remote, flipping through the channels without stopping at any of them long enough to know what he was skipping over.

  “Actually, I do know.” I tipped my now empty wineglass sideways and watched the drops of Merlot gather into a small pool. It was fascinating in a way it wouldn’t have been before I consumed the entire bottle on my own and been introduced to a new equation. The more I drank the easier it was to down the next glass. “Alcohol affects the prefrontal cortex which regulates impulse control.”

  “Bad news for Jack. I was hoping the beer would make me less likely to kill him,” he said but kept his eyes on the television.

  I put the glass down. “It may slow your reaction time sufficiently enough to allow him to dodge your swings,” I said, hoping it didn’t come to that.

  He rubbed the shin of my leg. “Then all I have to do is stay drunk.” Now that he said it, there was a noticeable slur to his words. Funny, I didn’t feel like there was to mine. The disconnect in self-perception explained why people felt capable of driving when they clearly were not. Holy shit, I may be drunk.