Truth or Dare You (The Love Game Book 2)

by Elizabeth Hayley

  Bastards.

  D R E W

  I knew that waiting interminably for the doctor to see me was fairly standard medical procedure, but this had to be bordering on malpractice.

  I’d already had to see a whole slew of doctors before I could leave the godforsaken hospital after I’d fucked up almost my entire body in the accident. One mishap had turned me into someone who had specialists. I was too young for this shit.

  Had I been alone here, it might not have been so horrible, but waiting with Brody was awful. He had the patience of a gremlin and absolutely no chill. I’d seen people on speed sit stiller than him. His leg was bouncing so hard, his seat was shaking.

  He hunched forward a bit before throwing himself back against the chair, making the thing bang against the wall.

  “Dude, you want to wait outside or something?” I asked him. “I can text you when I’m done.”

  “Nah, I’m fine. Plus, Sophia would kill me if I left you here alone.”

  I scoffed. “She’s not my keeper. You don’t have to answer to her.”

  He gave me a look that called bullshit, and I felt myself grow indignant as I crossed my arms over my chest—a move that was less smooth with the cast on my arm.

  “What? She’s not.”

  He smirked as he reached forward to riffle through the magazines on the table.

  “Whatever you say, dude.”

  He reclined back, holding a Highlights magazine, which made me realize how futile it was to argue with a man-child. After thumbing through it, he let out a guffaw. “Man, that Goofus and Gallant…classic. Do you have a pen?”

  “No, and I’m pretty sure they don’t want you writing in their magazines.”

  Brody shrugged and continued looking through the magazine. Seriously, how the fuck had he and Sophia come from the same gene pool?

  The magazine kept him occupied for about another minute and a half, and then he tossed it onto the table, causing the glass top to clatter. Everyone in the room turned to look at us—a fact only I noticed because while I was busy apologizing to everyone with my eyes, Brody’s focus was on me.

  “So what’s going on between you and my sister?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  That single word came out of my mouth so defensively, I couldn’t even be mad at the raised eyebrow he shot me in response.

  “Seriously, we’re just friends.” Though I honestly wasn’t even sure we were that. There was no name for a woman a guy had a shit ton of feelings for but had to pretend that he didn’t while still depending on her for survival and as a faux-fiancée. Complicated didn’t even begin to describe the shitshow that was my relationship with Sophia.

  “Come on, man. I caught you two basically humping in the bathroom, which is really inconsiderate seeing as how I have to use it too.”

  “Dude, I fell on her. We weren’t…humping.” I said the last word on a whisper, a courtesy he hadn’t afforded me when he declared it to the room seconds before.

  “I think she was into it.”

  “What…” I shook my head, trying to extinguish the flicker of hope that maybe she had liked it. I was as fucked up as the dumbass talking to me. “She wasn’t into it. Neither of us was. It was an unfortunate accident that I pray is never repeated, and I would appreciate it if we never spoke of it again.”

  “Why can’t we speak of it? Are you embarrassed to be with my little sister? You think you’re better than her or something?”

  My jaw nearly fell into my lap as I stuttered through a variety of sounds in an attempt to formulate a response, but before I was able to string anything together in a way that made sense, Brody smiled.

  “I’m just fucking with you. On that last part at least. I do think there’s something between you and Sophia, and I think my parents ruined it somehow, which isn’t all that surprising considering they ruin everything that even slightly resembles a good time, but I digress. I just…”

  He hesitated, looking unsure, which was a weird vibe for Brody since the guy oozed confidence, even when he had no right to it.

  “I’m a pretty shitty brother, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about her. And while my dad would love nothing more than for her to marry some investment broker who works sixty hours a week and drinks Johnnie Walker Blue Label, that guy will also hit his mid-forties and play a losing game of Russian Roulette with his life savings and a stripper named Chastity, and Sophia doesn’t need the hassle. Not to mention that’s not her type. She doesn’t want a partner in a firm somewhere; she wants a partner in life. And the way you two look at each other sometimes, not to mention the fact that she’s willing to play nursemaid to you when she would’ve told me to fuck all the way off if I asked her to get me a Band-Aid, makes me think that you could maybe fill that role.”

  He paused, looking down at his lap where his fingers were doing some kind of interpretive dance, before sighing heavily and looking back to me.

  “What I’m trying to say is if you want that role, you should fucking take it before she starts auditioning a bunch of fucking losers and you lose your chance. And if you don’t want that role…then maybe you should hurry up and heal so you can get the hell out of her life. For good this time.” He ended his speech with a definitive nod, as if to punctuate his feelings.

  I sank back into my chair, staring straight ahead but not truly looking at anything. My brain replayed Brody’s speech, and I tried to sort out how I felt about it.

  For one, I wished I’d filmed it because no way would Sophia ever believe Brody had given me a protective older brother speech. Her world would be rocked, but I knew I’d never tell her about it. Not only would that be a betrayal to Brody, who’d let himself be vulnerable for a minute as he broadcasted the fact that he was actually an incredibly decent human being, but I also didn’t want to have to discuss all the things he’d brought up.

  Because he was right—at least partly. I wasn’t sure that Sophia looked at me any special kind of way, but I had no doubt that I stared at her like she hung the fucking moon when I thought no one was looking.

  I didn’t try to delude myself—I could absolutely see sharing a life with her. And when I imagined it, it was perfect in its imperfection. We’d fight and argue and then have amazing make-up sex and then laugh about how stupid and stubborn we both were. It’d be fantastic.

  If only I deserved to have it with her.

  I knew there was going to be a time when she started dating someone else, and there was no way I was going to be able to handle that. So while I wished I could be option number one in Brody’s scenario, that just wasn’t going to be the case.

  I needed to get some good news from this doctor and get back on my feet, literally and figuratively, so I could finally walk out of Sophia’s life and let the poor girl start finding her happily ever after.

  Chapter Nine

  S O P H I A

  “Where are your crutches?”

  Drew’s whole body jerked as he tightened his hold on the refrigerator door to keep himself standing.

  “Jesus Christ, you nearly gave me a heart attack. And with my laundry list of other medical problems, I don’t feel we need to add that to the list.”

  I guess my voice had been a little shriller than I’d intended.

  He closed the door and leaned sideways until his hand came into contact with the counter, which he then used to pull the rest of his body toward it.

  “The doctor told you not to walk without the crutches yet. Where are they?”

  He shuffled a bit more to the right, glaring at me the entire time, until he could reach the crutches he’d left against the wall that was a solid ten feet from where he’d just been.

  “I’d sarcastically refer to you as my mother, but she wouldn’t be nearly as irritating as you.”

  I bit back my retort that that was the reason he was here in the first place, because being a petty bitch of that caliber wasn’t a good look on anyone.

  “Your leg is going to be messed up
forever if you don’t do what the doctor told you to do.”

  He rolled his eyes as he made his way past me—on crutches this time. He plodded over to the couch and plopped down.

  “I never should’ve told you about the appointment.”

  “Yes, you should’ve. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

  Though honestly, I kind of wished he hadn’t told me about it. We’d both been high-strung since he’d come home, but for different reasons.

  While Drew seemed to be angry that his injuries weren’t healing as quickly as he hoped they would, I was a nervous wreck that he was going to have permanent injuries from the accident.

  The doctor had been happy to report that there wasn’t any lingering brain swelling or damage, and his lungs were also in good shape, despite his being on the ventilator. But while the plates and screws in his leg were holding fast, his orthopedist had very serious concerns about lasting nerve damage.

  He’d said that Drew was healed enough to begin outpatient physical therapy—which he hadn’t been to since leaving the hospital—and they’d hope that the issue resolved itself as he got stronger. Still, the doctor told him to prepare for a long road ahead.

  His fractured arm and broken ribs were all healing as well as could be expected, which were positives I wished he’d been able to focus on more. Not that I could blame him for having a surly, depressed attitude. It couldn’t have been easy hearing that he might never walk normally again.

  “I’m tired of needing help,” he muttered, his voice cracking a bit at the end.

  I swear, if that man hadn’t already broken my heart, those words would’ve done it. Not so much what he’d said but how he’d said it. He sounded so…lost. And so unbelievably sad.

  Drew wasn’t this person. At least not the Drew I’d gotten to know. That Drew was funny and upbeat and happy. It made me feel useless that I couldn’t help him regain some of that.

  Or maybe I could.

  “I need to make a phone call,” I said as I hustled to the bedroom.

  “Good talk,” I heard him mumble sarcastically.

  I sent up a silent prayer that my idea worked, because the miserable jackass squatting on my brother’s couch was getting on my nerves.

  D R E W

  I’d been flicking through channels ever since Sophia escaped to her room to “make a phone call.” Not that I could blame her for running away from me. I knew I was being a moody jerk, but I didn’t know how to stop.

  I’d been taking care of myself for a long time, and having to depend on people was wearing on me. I hated being a burden, especially on Sophia, who really didn’t owe me anything. So hearing that I was still a long way from being able to get back on my feet—literally—was a tough pill to swallow.

  Add in the fact that I was going stir-crazy in Brody’s apartment, and it was a recipe that had turned me into a miserable fuck. I knew if I asked, they’d take me out so I could get some fresh air, but then I would be even more of a needy puppy. Everything just…sucked.

  My pity party was interrupted by a knock on the door. Maybe Sophia had called one of her friends to come over.

  “Soph? Someone’s at the door.”

  I heard her coming down the hallway before I saw her. She barely looked at me as she hurried over.

  “I would’ve answered it, but I was worried you’d castrate me for getting up.”

  She paused in unlocking the door to shoot me a withering look that made me internally cringe. It was like I couldn’t help but be an asshole at this point.

  She turned the deadbolt and pulled the door open, gesturing at her guests to enter with a flourish of her hand.

  “Please do something about him,” she said.

  My eyes widened as I saw who she was ushering into the apartment.

  Aniyah!

  “Wow. Sophia said you looked like shit, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this bad.”

  Despite Aniyah’s harsh words, I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over my face. “Well, I almost died. What’s your excuse?”

  “Ooh, Imposter Boy’s got jokes.”

  “He ain’t wrong, though,” Xander said as he stepped around Aniyah and came over to me, sticking out his hand for me to clasp as he leaned down for a bro-hug. Toby followed close behind, a broad smile on his face that I couldn’t help but return.

  Aniyah walked over to a chair and sat down. “You look like you smell, so I’m not hugging you.”

  I opened my arms toward her. “Come on. You know you wanna.”

  “I know no such thing.”

  Raising my eyebrows and widening my smile at her with my arms still outstretched caused her to shoot her eyes toward heaven, but she stepped forward and leaned down to embrace me.

  Her arms wrapped around me much tighter than I’d expected, but it was exactly what I’d needed: a firm hug from someone who wasn’t afraid I would break.

  “Don’t ever pull some stupid white boy shit like this again,” she whispered fiercely in my ear.

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  She gave me one final squeeze before pulling free and subtly swiping at her eyes, a move all of us pretended not to notice. When she turned back to her chair, Xander was sitting in it, smirking.

  She stared at him for a moment.

  He didn’t move.

  “Have I ever mentioned that my great-aunt in New Orleans makes voodoo dolls of annoying dickheads from the skin of slaughtered swine?”

  Her not-so-thinly-veiled threat only made Xander waggle his eyebrows at her.

  She huffed before muttering something under her breath and sitting on the opposite end of the couch from me.

  I looked around at my former project-mates who’d become close friends of mine last semester. Friends I’d dropped when I’d run from Sophia. I was glad they’d all been willing and able to come see me. I’d missed them more than I’d allowed myself to think about.

  Toby, who was sitting between us, leaned toward Aniyah.

  “Does your aunt really do that?”

  She looked at him blandly. “What do you think?”

  He looked at her for a second before righting himself and averting his gaze. Poor Toby—such a simple soul.

  “So what are you guys doing here?” I asked, excitement slipping into my voice for the first time in months. I was happy as fuck to see them.

  “Sophia called us and said you were being a pain in the ass,” Aniyah explained. “Which didn’t sound like you at all. Though I guess that makes sense since, as it turns out, we don’t actually know you. So, Drew, why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?”

  I swung my gaze to Sophia, who was leaning against the wall with a dry look on her face.

  My mind flitted back to when Aniyah had called me Imposter Boy when she’d come in. I hadn’t thought much about it at the time, but it became clear that Sophia had told them at least some of the truth. Though she didn’t seem keen on helping me explain any further.

  “Yeah, uh, well…this is awk—”

  Another knock interrupted my attempt to figure out where the hell to start. Sophia answered it, and a disheveled Carter bustled through the doorway.

  “What are you doing here?” Sophia asked as she closed the door.

  “T-Man texted and said he was coming over here to see Brody/Drew, and there was no way I was missing this explanation.”

  “Who’s T-Man?” Sophia asked.

  That question was answered when Carter walked over to Toby, who stood so they could perform some sort of intricate handshake that looked like it should grant them entrance to an underground Boy Scout lair.

  Carter then grabbed a chair from the kitchen, dragged it into the living room, and parked himself in it, staring at all of us as if he expected us to perform some sort of song and dance number.

  “As you were,” he said.

  I stared at him for a second, trying to figure out how I’d become such good friends with such an odd person. When I gave up on that
, I looked at the others.

  “How much do you guys know?”

  “Sophia gave me a brief overview when she called,” Aniyah said. “And I relayed all that to the boys. Basically that her brother Brody paid you to be him for a semester and that when you’d finished your job as his doppelganger, you’d decided to assume the identity of Evel Knievel and almost got yourself killed.”

  “That’s…about accurate.” I turned my attention to Carter. “You never told Toby about any of this?” They’d clearly grown close, if their Hogwarts handshake was anything to judge by, so I was surprised that Carter hadn’t shared anything with him.

  Carter shrugged. “Wasn’t my story to tell.”

  Funnily enough, it didn’t really feel like mine to tell either. It was mostly Brody’s, but I supposed part of it belonged to the guy who’d lived his life for him—a guy who seemed so different from the one who could barely get his busted ass off the couch.

  I cleared my throat before beginning. “Yeah, so I pretended to be Brody last semester. I didn’t mean to lie to you, but it was kind of part and parcel with the whole thing. So while I’m sorry I wasn’t honest, I also wouldn’t do anything differently.”

  I couldn’t help but let my eyes stray to Sophia when I said that last part. No matter how things had ended, I’d never regret getting to know her.

  “But then Sophia’s parents figured out what was going on, and that was it. My life as Brody was over, so I went back to being Drew Nolan.”

  “And Drew Nolan thought it was a good idea to ghost the friends he’d made?” Aniyah asked, her tone stern and almost reprimanding. “Carter and Sophia both said you’d left but didn’t say more than that. You just left us…hanging.”

  “No,” I said softly, shaking my head. “I just didn’t know what else to do. I guess I felt like I didn’t deserve you. Any of you.” I flicked my eyes in Sophia’s direction long enough to see her fidget.

  “Hmm, and here I thought you were smart,” Toby said, sounding like he was truly baffled by my idiocy.