Love Games (Revenge Games Duet Book 2)

by Sky Corgan

  Love Games

  Sky Corgan

  Contents

  1. Willow

  2. Caleb

  3. Willow

  4. Becky

  5. Caleb

  6. Willow

  7. Caleb

  8. Willow

  9. Caleb

  10. Peter

  11. Caleb

  12. Peter

  13. Caleb

  14. Willow

  15. Caleb

  16. Willow

  17. Caleb

  18. Willow

  19. Peter

  20. Caleb

  21. Peter

  22. Willow

  23. Becky

  24. Willow

  25. Caleb

  26. Willow

  27. Peter

  28. Willow

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also By Sky Corgan

  Bonus Excerpt

  Text copyright 2017 by Sky Corgan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author.

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  Willow

  I can't believe it really happened. That I landed the man of my dreams against all odds.

  Everything was stacked against me. I wasn't his type; I had known that from the beginning. Peter Burgett probably dates girls who look like supermodels. Maybe he even has dated a few supermodels. He certainly has the money to be in their social circles. The money. The career. The looks. The man has it all.

  And I came from nothing. A fat girl from a poor family with a bad reputation.

  I had moved here to escape all of that. I had shed the weight that kept my self-esteem in the dirt. I had abandoned my family to rid myself of the association with filth and mental illness. I had come here to start anew. To turn my life around.

  The second I realized I had unknowingly moved in across the hall from my high school enemy, I thought that was all over. But I leveraged Caleb Ryan's guilt to get me closer to Peter. And now here we are.

  Peter just left my apartment, knowing I need rest from my massive hangover. I haven't made it back to bed yet, though. I'm still standing in my kitchen, staring at all of the bags of greasy fast food he brought me, not really sure how I feel about the whole situation.

  I was elated when he actually proposed that we start dating exclusively, something that I'm told Peter Burgett does not do. He's a manwhore, from what Caleb says. Will I really be alright putting my heart in his hands?

  McDonalds. Taco Bell. Panda Express. Panera Bread.

  These bags of fast food prove that Peter knows nothing about me. I can't eat any of this. Am not supposed to eat any of this.

  I haven't touched fast food in so long because it's a large part of why I gained so much weight in the past. My mother hated to cook. And there were so many times when it was just easier for my father to grab us dinner from a drive-through after working a sixteen-hour shift.

  As I stare at the bags, I remember all the nights spent sitting on the sofa in the living room between my two sisters, munching away on our delicious McDonalds french fries. Mindlessly consuming while we watched something pointless on television, the trash and squalor piled up around us. When we were done eating, we would go to take our trash to the trashcan in the kitchen, but it was usually full. The empty bags and containers would end up on the kitchen counter with all the rest from the week, adding to the mess.

  It wasn't that we didn't have trash service. My sisters and I were supposed to rotate the chore of taking out the trash. But laziness breeds laziness, and so does bad parenting. They would skip their days, and neither of my parents would say anything about it. When it came to be my turn, there would be so much trash piled up that I'd have to make several trips. Eventually, I just said fuck it. Complaining to them didn't get my sisters to do their chores. Telling my parents to reprimand them didn't do it either. Fairness wasn't a word that was known in my house. And eventually, I came to the conclusion that if you can't beat them, join them.

  In hindsight, we all contributed to our horrible living conditions. I was no less guilty than anyone else in the house, except for my mother. We were all less guilty than her. She was a mega-hoarder, constantly bringing things into the house but refusing to get rid of anything. Every time my father got paid she would take us garage sale and thrift store shopping, but not for clothes or anything that we actually needed. She'd buy random junk that we never even used. Like a microwave hard-boiled egg cooker. Or some broken wind chimes that she insisted she could fix. If the price was low, she'd buy it. And then it would end up added to the piles of crap at home, becoming a part of the collective scenery and filth. A landfill of trash and things forgotten.

  It's odd how looking at a fast food bag can bring back all of that. The memories.

  These days, I try to stay away from fast food unless I'm just so depressed that I don't give a shit anymore. Kind of like when I ate pizza the other day with Caleb after hearing that Peter didn't care about me.

  But Peter does care about me. He cares about me enough that he asked me to be his girlfriend. Which means that...Was Caleb lying about what Peter had said to him?

  There's a knock on my apartment door. This time, I know it's Caleb having come from the store to bring me something with electrolytes in it. It's been long enough.

  I open the door to him, and he steps past me with a bag in hand, setting it on the kitchen counter before giving pause to look at the myriad of fast food with a puzzled expression.

  He points to the bags. "How long has this been sitting here?"

  I fold my arms over my chest, trying not to glare at him. "Were you lying to me about Peter?"

  He juts his head back. "What do you mean?"

  "About him saying he felt nothing for me."

  Caleb arches a brow. "Why would I lie about that?"

  "I don't know. You tell me." I lean against the counter, staring at him expectantly. Surely, it will dawn on him what I'm getting at, and he'll cave soon.

  "Why are you being so hostile towards me all of a sudden? I just brought you Gatorade." His hand skims over the bag, making it rustle. "And SmartWater, in case you don't like Gatorade. And Pedialyte, because I've heard that it's good for hangovers but I haven't tried it yet."

  The anger in me falters. Why would he lie to me...unless he was just sick of hearing me obsess over Peter? Maybe he just wanted an end to it all.

  "Did Peter really say that he felt nothing for me?" I give him one last chance to confess.

  Caleb stands tall, taking a defensive stance. "Yes, he really said that. Why? Did something happen last night?"

  "A lot happened last night. He didn't tell you?"

  "He just told me that you guys are okay now."

  "More than okay." I hold my head up high, proudly.

  "More than okay?" he parrots.

  "We're a couple now," I announce.

  Caleb's eyes go wide, and his mouth falls agape. "A couple."

  I could not feel more smug about the shock on his face if I tried. "Yes. He came by to bring me food and ask me out."

  "Like ask you out on a date?" The skepticism is plain in his voice, and it makes me scowl.

  "No, idiot. He asked me to be his girlfriend."

  "Girlfriend?" He blinks a few times before staring past me as if he's never heard the word before and is trying to deciph
er the meaning.

  "Is that so unbelievable?" I push his shoulder to bring him back to me.

  "I...don't know," he hesitates. "For as long as I've known Peter, he's never had a girlfriend."

  "Well, now he does." I huff. "Just be happy for me, okay."

  Caleb shakes whatever he's thinking away before returning his attention to me. "I am happy for you. But I'm also confused."

  "Confused because of what he told you?"

  "Yes. Because of that. So many things he's told me. It just doesn't make sense."

  "Well, it's the reality of the situation, so you better get used to it." I smile.

  "I should let you get some rest." He walks past me abruptly to leave.

  "Alright." I follow him to the door to let him out, feeling odd about the way the conversation ended.

  He disappears without another word, and I return to the kitchen to look at my offerings. Four bags of fast food and three beverages.

  It feels nice to be taken care of. To have an amazing boyfriend and awesome best friend who are willing to make sure I have everything I need.

  Ew. Did I just think of Caleb as my best friend?

  I guess I did. Whether I'd like to admit it to myself or not, he's the only friend I have here in San Antonio. And I certainly can't deny that we're friends any longer. So if he's my only friend, I guess that also means that he's my best friend.

  Caleb

  Something doesn't add up.

  First Peter said he'd never date anyone from work. Then he said he didn't feel anything for Willow. It doesn't make sense that he'd suddenly change his tune.

  She must have heard him wrong or interpreted what he had said wrong. But then why were all of the fast food bags at Willow's apartment? She would not have lied to me about that. Peter had to have come visit her. But why? Why would he take time off from work to visit her if he didn't care?

  I need to get to the bottom of this before she gets hurt again. I need to find out what Peter's real motives are. Or what he really meant. Or just what the fuck is going on, because I'm so God damn confused about this whole situation.

  I text Peter to ask if he wants to go out for drinks after work. Then I spend the entire day thinking about what could have happened last night that made him change his mind. He was so vague when he told me that everything is okay now.

  We meet up at a little hole in the wall close to his work. When I go inside, Peter is already at the bar sipping on a beverage. I pull up the barstool beside him and immediately order a Jack and Coke before launching straight into the question I've been doubting the answer to all day.

  "So, you and Willow?"

  Peter smiles, his eyes falling to his drink. "She told you already?"

  "It's true then?" I quirk an eyebrow, still skeptical.

  "Aye. It's true."

  "So you're a couple?" The word sounds foreign when spoken about him and...anyone.

  He chuckles before jumping off of his stool to put me in a headlock. "Is that so hard to believe, punk?"

  I struggle for a minute, annoyed by his rambunctious behavior, though I know it means he's in a good mood.

  When he finally lets me go, I smooth down my hair and shirt before reclaiming my seat. "It is with everything you've said to me thus far," I reply firmly. "You made me seem like a liar."

  "Oh?" He plays innocent, which just pisses me off more.

  "What happened to not dating anyone from work? Or you not having feelings for Willow?"

  "Oh, that." He acts like he had completely forgotten telling me those things.

  "Yeah. That." I eye him suspiciously.

  "I guess she just grew on me." He picks up his drink, grinning into the distance.

  And that's when it hits me. I know that look, and it's not a look I've ever seen on Peter's face before. He's not lying. He genuinely likes Willow.

  I want to be relieved, but there's a strange feeling in my chest. Almost like my muscles are wound too tight. I can't force myself to believe that this will have a happy ending for them.

  I know Peter well. He's dated girls in the past. Not long or seriously enough to ever call one of them his girlfriend, but he has had some that he's kept around for a few weeks. Those girls always ended up getting hurt when he grew bored of them. What's to say the same won't happen this time around?

  "So you're really doing this?" I press.

  "Yes." He looks at me. "Why? You don't approve?"

  "I'm just worried she's going to get hurt," I mumble.

  "What if I get hurt instead?" His eyes flash. "Aren't you worried about me?"

  "You have to have a heart to have it broken." I smirk before taking a sip of my drink.

  "You're an asshole." He slaps my shoulder with the back of his hand.

  "It takes one to know one." I nod at him.

  "So childish." He shakes his head before downing his drink and hissing from the afterburn of the liquor.

  "Seriously, though, what made you change your mind? It's pretty hard to go from not feeling anything for someone to wanting to be in an exclusive relationship with them. Especially for someone like you."

  "Someone like me?" He huffs. "I oughta." Peter raises his arm like he's going to hit me again. When I cower away, he drops his hand, cursing between his teeth at me with a smile on his face all the while. "I think the tides really turned when we were talking last night."

  "Ah yes. That. Which neither of you has really told me about. What happened, exactly?"

  "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me." He chuckles at the secret memory.

  "Tell me anyway."

  He twirls his glass in his hand. "She kind of went off on me when I got there. It was...super dramatic."

  "I'm not sure if I'm surprised or not," I confess, thinking about Willow's temper.

  "She hit me." He glances up at me to see my reaction.

  "She hit you?" I parrot.

  "More than once."

  "Like punched you?" I gesture with my fist.

  "Slapped me." His head bobbles.

  "She must have been really pissed." My eyes widen for effect.

  "Oh, very much so." He laughs before settling. "But she said a lot of things that really made me think. Things that touched my heart. And even after dropping her off, I couldn't stop thinking about her. Hell, I didn't even really sleep last night because I was thinking about her so much.

  "She's a funny girl. Smart, caring, athletic."

  I huff internally at the athletic part. If he only knew what I had to go through to get her there. I practically built his girlfriend for him.

  "So you asked her out," I say.

  "Yeah. I figured I might as well give this dating thing a go." He inhales deeply. "While I had thought I wanted to stay single forever, I've come to realize that truly good and compatible people don't come around very often. I enjoy spending time with Willow. And it's not in the shallow way that I enjoy spending time with most girls. Willow makes me laugh. She makes me smile. She makes me happy."

  I can hear the sincerity in his voice. He's speaking from his heart. And I can't continue to deny that this may actually be different.

  "Well, I'm happy for you guys then." I finish the rest of my drink, trying to process how I really feel about all of this.

  If I said I wasn't slightly jealous, I'd be lying. More than that, though, I'm not really looking forward to having to hear all of their relationship details. While Peter is a private guy, Willow will no doubt gush about everything they do together. And I'll be on the receiving end.

  "We need to go shopping again."

  It's the first thing Willow says to me when I open the door to her the following day.

  "What?" I scratch the back of my head.

  She barges right in, pushing past Max to stand in the middle of my living room. "Now that I'm dating Peter, I need to dress appropriately for him."

  "Appropriately for him?" What's that supposed to mean?

  "Yes." She nods. "I still don't trust myself to pick out the clo
thes that he'll like, so I'm taking you with me."

  "This isn't going to become a normal thing, is it?" my voice is clipped with annoyance.

  Willow sulks slightly. "Please, Caleb. I promise this will be the last time. I just want to be perfect for him."

  "I'm pretty sure he likes you just the way you are. If he didn't, he wouldn't be dating you." I shift my weight.

  She presses her palms together, silently begging. All I can do is roll my eyes and give in, knowing that she'll get mad at me if I say no.

  This shopping trip is a lot less fun than the last one. We head to the thrift store, which I have nothing against. I just don't have as much pep in my step as I did the first go round when we were doing whatever we could to make Peter attracted to her.

  This time, I simply follow Willow around with a shopping cart. When she pulls something off of the rack, I give it a yes or no answer. Then when we head to the dressing room, I give her my opinion again.

  To be honest, I don't even know what Peter likes anymore—what he'd want to see his girlfriend wearing. Because he's never had a girlfriend since I've known him. I haven't gotten to see what his girlfriends typically wear. Having said that, I can only imagine that as long as whatever Willow picks fits her properly, it should be fine.

  "You don't seem very into this." She notices on about the sixth outfit. "Are you tired or something?"

  "Yeah. That's it." I yawn for effect.

  "I hope he likes all of this." She goes back to assessing her haul.

  "I think it will be fine." I look at the mix of blouses and skirts, things that she picked out mostly for work as if every day is going to be a date with him.

  "I hope so," she sighs. "Now that Peter and I are a couple, I need to look perfect all the time."

  No one can look perfect all the time. I think it but don't say it. Far be it from me to disrupt her perfect little fantasy world. Fantasies don't last forever, though.

  Willow

  Going to work on Monday is strange. It feels more like a date than a job. I don't think that's normal. I'm pretty sure that's not how I'm supposed to feel, but I'm just so excited to see Peter.