Love Games (Revenge Games Duet Book 2)

by Sky Corgan

“No.” I fold my arms over my chest protectively. Just thinking about the girl I used to be fills me with disgust. If Peter had met her instead of me, we wouldn't be together right now.

  “I don't know why you're so ashamed of it.”

  “Have you ever been fat, Peter?” I practically snap at him.

  “No.” He doesn't seem the least bit fazed by my agitation.

  “Then you wouldn't understand.” I sigh, leaning against the door.

  “What's there to understand? Who you were then made you who you are now. That can't be a bad thing.”

  “But I don't want you to be disgusted by who I was then,” I mutter. “It might make you like who I am now less.”

  “I highly doubt that.” He pulls into the parking lot of my apartment complex.

  “I was morbidly obese. Just remembering my life back then hurts me.” Depression takes over me as I remember sitting in my room hating myself as a teenager. There were so many times I just wanted to die because I didn't think I was worth anything.

  He puts the car into park and turns to me. “Hey.”

  “What?” I stay pressed against the door.

  “Look at me.”

  I glance over at him, though I'm still frowning.

  “I don't care what you looked like back then. I don't care who you were back then. I mean, I do care.” He tilts his head to the side. “At least, I'm curious about it.

  “I want to know everything about you. That's part of dating someone. Learning the good, the bad, and the ugly. And I want you to know everything about me, too.”

  “Well, what there is to know about you and what there is to know about me are two completely different things. I imagine you grew up in privilege. You've probably always been attractive. You likely never had to struggle for anything in your life...wealth, acceptance.”

  I want to slap my hand over my mouth at how horrible that all sounded. I'm being an assuming bitch, and I don't even know how to stop it. My nastiness is a defense mechanism.

  I expect him to get angry, but he doesn't. He just simply nods and says, “That's true.”

  We sit in silence for several moments before he speaks again. “Come here. I want to tell you a secret.”

  I look over at him, and he motions for me to come closer. When I finally move away from the door, he continues to motion until I'm practically leaning over the console. I'm not sure why he feels the need to whisper to me when we're in a car, but whatever.

  He leans in close, his hot breath caressing my cheek. “I don't care who you were in the past. I like you just the way you are.”

  The coldness in my heart melts. I feel his lips touch my cheek, and I know that no man has ever been more perfect for me.

  I close my eyes and soak in the moment. I'm lost in a dreamlike state until his lips leave my cheek and he sits back in his seat.

  “You know, it's really nice to date someone who has so many similar interests,” Peter says.

  “Mhm,” I agree absentmindedly, my head still foggy from the innocent kiss.

  “I'm having a 4th of July party this weekend. From my balcony, you can see all of the fireworks going off around the city. It's a splendid view,” he tells me proudly.

  “I bet it is.”

  “I want you to come, of course.”

  “I'll be there.”

  “I was thinking of inviting a few people from work,” his voice stiffens and dread assaults me.

  “Not Becky, right?” I turn to him in alarm.

  He chuckles. “No. Not Becky.”

  I huff, sinking down a bit. “I don't know what's wrong with that girl.”

  “She's something else.” Peter grins.

  “She has no shame,” I mumble.

  “I think she just...enjoys variety.”

  “She's a cock hound,” I say what I know he was really thinking.

  “A cock hound?” He guffaws, and I blush in embarrassment.

  “Well that's what she is. She wanted you. She wanted Caleb. I don't think she cares, really.”

  “I'm not so sure about that. Everyone has a preference.” He tilts his head to the side.

  And her preference seems to lean towards handsome men. Not that I'm one to talk. But at least I wasn't just trying to sleep with Caleb and Peter. I genuinely wanted a relationship with them. I don't feel that Becky's intentions are the same, especially with her being so flighty.

  “I don't like her,” I confess, though it's obvious he already knows that.

  “Well, you don't have to worry. She's not going to be there,” he reassures me.

  “Good.” I relax a bit. “Are you going to invite Caleb?”

  “Of course. What's a party without the meathead.”

  I giggle at the insult.

  “I'm glad we're all friends,” I say with a sigh, thinking about how perfect my life has become.

  “Me, too.” He smiles.

  “I hope we stay that way for a long time.”

  The week marches on.

  It doesn't seem like Caleb is on board with making my great dream of all of us staying friends forever come true. While I don't put in as much effort to see him as I used to, whenever we do cross paths, the conversation is brief and he seems sullen. I'm done trying to force him to tell me what's wrong, figuring that he'll come out with it on his own eventually if he wants me to know.

  For the most part, though, I don't even think about him. I'm too busy with Peter. Every day after work, we hang out in his car and talk for hours. Our co-workers know what's going on with us now, and that makes me feel a lot more secure that he's serious about our relationship.

  On Friday afternoon, I go with him to the liquor store to replenish his alcohol stores for the party. While I don't typically buy liquor, I consider Smirnoff and Jose Quervo to be the good brands. After a few minutes in the store, I'm convinced that Peter shops by price tag only. He picks out bottles I've never heard of before, and nothing under $100.

  “You have interesting taste,” I comment as he asks one of the store clerks to get him a bottle of Asombroso out of a glass case.

  “Have you ever tasted good tequila?” He glances at me, and I can't help but feel like he's judging me.

  Of course, I've never tasted a thousand dollar bottle of tequila. But apparently I'm going to tomorrow.

  “It all tastes the same to me.” I shrug. “I seriously can't even tell the difference between well tequila and the good stuff.”

  He draws his hand up to his chest and gasps. “You're hurting my heart, Willow. Hurting my heart.”

  I roll my eyes. Oh the woes of the rich.

  “I'm just playing.” Peter wrinkles his nose at me. “Really, I just buy this shit to be pretentious. I mean, I like a good tequila as much as the next guy, but I wouldn't drop mad money on a bottle unless I'm trying to impress people.”

  “Why does it matter if you impress people?” I pick up a cheaper bottle and read the label. Most of the labels even look the same to me. 100% agave. Silver. Gold. Whatever. It all burns going down.

  “People hold me to a certain standard,” he tells me, though it seems that saying it makes him uncomfortable. “They know what I do for a living. They expect that I live a certain way.”

  “So, lavish everything.” I nod, more to myself than him.

  “Yes. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy living this way. But it can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

  “I can't even imagine.” I can't. The thought of having the money that he does—enough to piss away on a thousand dollar bottle of tequila—is unfathomable. There's no doubt in my mind that I'll never amass as much wealth. But I suppose I don't have to if I'm dating someone rich.

  “This looks like a dildo,” I mention when the store clerk hands the bottle over to Peter.

  The clerk's mouth drops open.

  Peter guffaws.

  And I feel mildly embarrassed for being unable to keep that comment in. At least, Peter doesn't seem to mind my free speech.

  “You'll spend the nigh
t tomorrow night?” he asks as he drops me off in front of my apartment.

  “Spend the night?” My cheeks flame as I immediately picture us entwined together in his bed.

  “Yeah. There's going to be a lot of drinking, and I don't want you to drive home messed up.”

  As soon as I read the concern in his voice, I know we're not thinking on the same wavelength.

  My God, am I some kind of pervert? He's the man, and yet it's my mind that went straight to sex.

  “Oh. Of course.” I avert my gaze, feeling shameful for my lecherous thoughts.

  “Good. And one more thing.” Peter reaches across me to open the glove compartment. “I got you this.” He pulls out a small black box, and my chest tightens as he hands it to me.

  My fingers trace the top of the box. I'm so shocked by the gift that I can barely form words. “You didn't have to.”

  “I know I didn't have to. I wanted to.” He smiles. “Open it.”

  My heart is in my throat as I lift the lid from the box. This is the first gift that any man has ever given me, and that makes it even more special. As soon as the lid is removed, I gasp at what's inside. It's a silver pendant with five diamonds down the center.

  “Do you like it?” he asks, his eyes fixed on my expression.

  “Mhm.” I nod, hating myself for being so emotionally shaken that I can't express my full gratitude.

  “Here. Allow me.” He takes the box from me to pull the necklace out of it and then unfastens the latch. I move my hair out of the way so that he can place it around my neck. “You probably can't tell because of the design, but it's supposed to be a willow leaf. When I saw it in the store, it reminded me of you, so I decided to buy it.”

  Knowing that he thinks about me even when I'm not around makes the butterflies in my stomach take flight. I don't know how I ever got so lucky. He's absolutely perfect. Handsome and smart and wealthy and thoughtful.

  “I don't know what to say.” I wrap my hand around the pendant, holding it to my chest.

  “I'll accept a thank you.” Peter smirks.

  “Thank you. Yes, thank you.” My fingers strum over the jewels, which I'm almost certain are real diamonds. “It's more than I deserve.”

  He cups my chin, turning my face towards him. “Don't ever say that, Willow. You deserve everything good in the world. You're worth so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

  Tears come to my eyes unbidden. I'm drowning in a sea of happiness. I just can't contain it all.

  But I'm embarrassed by my reaction. Too embarrassed to let him see that he's making me fall completely apart, so I whisper another soft thank you before climbing out of his car and quickly walking away. I don't even look back, because if I look back, he'll see that I'm crying and will probably think he did something wrong. I don't want him to think that, and I can't explain myself. Not without turning into a blubbering mess.

  Hot tears burn a trail down my cheeks as I reach the elevator, my hand still clutching onto the necklace as if I'm scared it will fall off if I don't hold onto it. I'm squeezing it so tightly that I can feel the stones digging into my palm and the smoothness of what's supposed to be the leaf. A willow leaf. He bought this because it made him think of me. I just can't get over it.

  As soon as I get inside my apartment, I sit on the sofa and simply stare blankly at the television. Everything feels so surreal. Every intimate moment with Peter is magical. And the firework show will probably happen tomorrow night. And by firework show, I'm not talking about the gunpowder kind.

  He wants me to stay the night with him, and even though he didn't make it sound like anything sexual...

  I let the necklace go to stroke it some more. Maybe that's why he gave it to me. Maybe it was to warm me up for what will happen tomorrow night. If I feel closer to him, I'll be more likely to sleep with him.

  He didn't need to buy me a necklace to make me want to sleep with him. I've been dreaming about it since the first time I laid eyes on him. But now the thought of it actually happening—and knowing when it's going to happen—scares me a little.

  I've never been with a man before. It's a secret I don't tell anyone. And I'm afraid that I'll disappoint him. No doubt, he's slept with countless women. I'm sure a lot of them have been skilled. Will he like me less if I'm a bumbling idiot? Should I tell him beforehand that I'm a virgin? A lot of guys like that. Hell, maybe it will make him want me even more. I don't know. All I know is that sleeping with him is going to make me feel all kinds of vulnerable.

  Am I really ready for that? He's slowly been winning me over. Each day with him makes us feel closer. But once we have sex, he'll have my heart on lock-down. And what's worse is that he'll have the power to shatter me completely.

  Caleb

  Jesus fucking third wheel. Why did I even bother coming? I've only been at Peter's party for ten minutes and I'm already miserable. Willow is clinging to his side, laughing at all of his stupid jokes as we stand in a circle with his friends. I don't know any of these people. All I know is that it's a sausagefest up in this place. There's only one other female besides Willow, and she's paired up with one of the guys.

  I'm not sure why that matters to me. I didn't come here to hook up. But some company would be nice.

  This is what they mean when they say you can be in a room full of people and still be alone.

  I quickly tire of their banter and grab a beer before stepping out onto the balcony to get away from it all. I can't stand to listen to their happiness when I'm so depressed. Maybe I'll drink myself into a stupor tonight. Or maybe I'll just leave early and go to bed. Probably the latter of the two. While I really want to get drunk, doing it here doesn't exactly sound appealing.

  “It's a nice night,” a feminine voice says beside me.

  I glance over to see Nancy, the other guy's girlfriend, leaning against the balcony next to me peering out across the city skyline. Her hair is the dark kind of red that can only come from a bottle. She has it pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her beady brown eyes are squinting.

  “You're not happy,” she comments.

  “Is it that fucking obvious?” I tip back my beer and take a sip.

  She smirks at me. “There's a tint of green to you.”

  “A tint of green?” I glance at her.

  “Jealousy.” Her voice has an eerie tone to it.

  “Jealousy,” I huff. “No.”

  She turns, pressing her back against the balcony to look through the glass door leading inside. It's closed, so no one can hear our conversation. Even if they could, their own joyous voices would drown it out. “They won't be together forever.”

  “Few couples are together forever.” I take another drink of my beer, wishing she would just go away.

  “But you don't care about other couples. Do you?” Nancy looks me up and down. There's something about her that makes me uncomfortable, but I can't quite place it.

  “Do you not like her?”

  “On the contrary. I think she's a lovely girl. Perhaps even too good for him.” Her gaze fixes on Willow. “She has a gentle aura.”

  “Oh, so you're one of those.” I roll my eyes.

  “I know things.” She takes a step closer to me. “A lot of things. Usually before others know them.”

  I'm calling bullshit, but I don't want to be rude and say it directly to her face.

  “I can tell that I'm getting on your nerves.” She pushes herself away from the balcony, and I sigh internally in relief that I'm about to be blessedly alone again. “Mark my words.” Nancy points at me. “You'll betray him before the night is through.”

  She disappears back inside, leaving me with a knot in my chest as I try to dissect her meaning. I only give it a few moments thought before I shake my head, brushing it away. I don't know what the fuck she was trying to do, but whatever it was, it's not going to work. She seems like the type that likes to start trouble. Hopefully, she'll stay leashed to her boyfriend for the rest of the night. I don't want to have to de
al with anymore bizarre conversations like that.

  Just to prove her wrong—and because I'm having a horrible time—I decide to leave early. I down the rest of my beer, throw it in the outdoor garbage bin, and then head inside to say my farewells.

  The mood has shifted. No one is laughing and smiling anymore. Willow has a frown plastered on her face, and Peter is taking long strides towards the front of the loft.

  “What happened?” I ask as I flank Willow's side.

  “Someone broke into Advanced Data Solutions. Peter had to go meet with his business partner at the building. He doesn't want everyone else to have to leave, so he left me in charge of the party.” She folds her arms over her chest. Obviously, the idea of Peter leaving her in charge makes her uncomfortable.

  “Oh man. That sucks.” I tear my fingers through my hair, feeling sympathy for my friend. His business is his baby. I know he must be going out of his mind from stress right now.

  Willow leans against me to whisper, “I don't know these people. I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”

  I smile softly down at her, wanting to take some of her tension away. “Don't worry. I'll help you get through this.”

  She clutches onto my arm, and I feel a strange tingling sensation from her touch. It's not sexual, but something else. “Thank you, Caleb. You're a lifesaver.”

  “I'll always be your hero,” I mutter halfheartedly before looking up at the people around us. “Who wants to take shots?”

  There's a collective cheer.

  Willow follows me to the kitchen and watches me rummage through the cabinets for Peter's shot glasses.

  “You know where everything is. I'm kind of jealous,” she mumbles softly.

  “It's just because I've been here a lot, and Peter isn't always the best host.” I count out the shot glasses before looking to the bottles of liquor that Peter has lined up.

  “He's being a good host tonight.” She smiles.

  Yeah, that's why he left, I think bitterly, even though Peter had a valid reason to go. Maybe I should think more critically of the fact that he left his girlfriend in charge—someone who isn't very familiar with his loft. Now that was a dick move. It would have been smarter to have me handle things, but I suppose he was just trying to make Willow feel important.