Good Game (The System, #1) (17)

I take a sip of the mapley goodness, humming in delight as the warmth spreads throughout me. There is nothing quite like that first sip of coffee.

“So, are you going to give me all the details, or am I going to have to pull them out of you?” Deanna slurps loudly on her mimosa.

“Maybe I don’t kiss and tell.”

She gives me a short laugh. “Bullshit. First off, there is no way you kissed unless he took off his mask, and sorry, babe, I love you, but even I know you aren’t special enough for that to be the case.”

“Ouch,” I bring my hand to my chest and give her a fake pained expression.

“Second,” she points a finger at me, “I spent all of Freshman year listening to you provide excessively detailed recaps of your sexual adventures, so don’t try to bullshit me now.”

“Fine, fine,” I concede. She stares at me and raises a single eyebrow, waiting. “He fingered me in the closet after I kneed that Decker dude in the balls for trying to corner me, and then I went back to the event floor and jerked him off under the table.” The words tumble out of my mouth like my tongue is on fire.

Deanna proceeds to choke on her mimosa.

“You did what?”

“I kneed Daniel Decker in the balls.”

“You know that is not what I was referring to.”

I give her an awkward smile before taking another sip of coffee. Maybe I should’ve gotten some Baileys in this…

“I got down on my knees, crawled under the table, gave him a hand job, and swallowed him clean.”

She blinks a few times before letting out a snort.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that.” She tilts her head. “Also, why a hand job? That’s so…high school.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll make sure the event has tables high enough so that they can accommodate dick sucking.”

“Was it big? Wait, no, rewind. The closet. Was he good?”

“That man can make a girl come with his fingers like Mozart can play the piano. Flawlessly.” I can’t stop the smile from spreading out on my face. “You know how you hear people talk about seeing stars? It was like that. Totally mind-blowing.”

“See, I knew this was what you needed. You get a solid orgasm, and you are glowing.”

The waitress drops off our food, and we eat in silence for a few minutes, hunger winning out over any potential conversation. The satisfying crunch of the freshly toasted sourdough is music to my ears. Good friends, good food, good coffee, and a good orgasm. All a girl needs.

“I still can’t believe you snuck under the table to give him a handy. That was ballsy as hell.”

“More like risky as hell. I blame the orgasm brain.” I curl my hands into fists and stack them on one another. “It was like this big by the way.”

She tilts her head. “Not bad.”

I scoff at her, taking another large bite of my toast. We polish off the rest of our food, mindlessly chatting about the rest of the event. My mind keeps slipping back to Blade, and it frustrates me because it’s not like I’ll ever see him again. It was one night, but I’m treating it like forbidden fruit I want a second bite of. Plus, if the articles are true, he already has other drama going on with streamers, and I don’t need that in my life. It was bad enough that I got close to being front-page news, the last thing I need is to actually be front-page news and have my family see it.

Deanna and I split the bill, promising to meet up again later in the week when our schedules aren’t so busy. I pop a quick kiss on her cheek and head out to my car. I’m a few feet away when my eyes catch on something pink on my windshield.

There is a rose stuck under the left wiper blade. A single pink rose.

I hate roses.

Chase, however, thinks pink roses are a timeless symbol of love. I pick up the flower with the very tips of my thumb and pointer finger, like it’s poisonous.

What in the ever-loving shit is this?

I whip my head around, scanning the parking lot for Chase’s BMW. How did he know I was here? Sure, Deanna and I frequent Glass & Grass at least once a week…but he couldn’t have known I would be here today. I didn’t post about it on social media, and a quick scan of Deanna’s socials show she hasn’t either.

Paranoid, I scan the backseat and trunk of my car through the windows, just to make sure he didn’t do something stupid like break in as well. Chase isn’t the brightest guy I’ve met, but he is resourceful, has a lot of money, and is used to getting what he wants. I quickly slip inside and lock the doors after throwing the rose on the ground.

Not wanting to stick around, I turn on my car and head back home, blasting my favorite playlist in an attempt to block out any thoughts. For thirty minutes, I scream lyrics into the void. It’s not until I scan into my apartment complex that the tension in my shoulders finally drops. I’m checking my mailbox when my phone starts vibrating in the side pocket of my leggings, and I freeze. If it’s Chase, I’m not sure if I should answer or not. On one hand, I don’t want to give in to him, on the other hand, I want to rip him a new one for basically stalking me.

I slip my phone out and peek at the caller ID.

Mother.

I kind of wish it was Chase instead.

“Mother, hello, to what do I—”