Play With Me (Playing for Keeps, #2)

by Becka Mack

Because Carter Beckett is good at two things: playing hockey and loving on his new wife, Olivia. Something he’s terrible at? Keeping secrets.

“Caw-ta n’ Aw-wie could hab der own TV show.” “You know what would help with that?” Jennie’s perfectly shaped brows lift as she aims a pointed glance at my mouth. “Fucking swallowing before you speak.” I stop chewing, and when our eyes lock, my ears burn. Jennie’s a Beckett, that’s for sure. An unfiltered smart-ass like her older brother, with his same dimples and irritating smirk. But where Carter’s eyes are a deep green, hers are a soft, cool blue, with almost the faintest hint of violet.

“Hey, if you’re not dating anyone, and she’s not dating any—” Cara and Emmett fold over the table at the same time, howling with laughter. “No,” Cara chokes out, swiping at the tears free-falling down her cheeks. “Holy shit. Can you imagine? Holly, we like Garrett. We don’t want him to die. Carter would kill him.”

Aside from being totally and completely off limits, Jennie also scares the living shit out of me. She’s bold, confident, and sassy as fuck. My eyes rarely leave her when she’s in the room. Except when she looks my way. Or when Carter does.

My eyes fall to the laugh lines creasing his wide smile and brilliant eyes. The longer I look at him, the dad I lost eight years ago today, the good-bye I never got to say, the harder it gets to breathe. My throat burns, and my teeth sink into my lower lip to still the tremor. My hands shake as I turn away from the only face I want to see and yet can’t bear to look at.

Is this really happening? Does he know he’s a shit actor? The elevator opens when I press the button, and I shove him inside. “Thanks for the coffee. And Garrett?” “Yeah?” “Stick to your day job, big guy.”

Carter’s all about big, loud gestures, but sometimes it’s these tiny, silent ones that warm me the most.

I’m on my fourth slice of pizza when Carter hangs up the call, explaining about Jennie’s missing stuffed animal, the one their dad got her, and I know the second he sets those puppy dog eyes on me that I’m fucked. I shake my head before he even opens his mouth. “Please,” he begs. “Aw, man.” I fold over the table. “C’mon.” “Just check on her on your way up. Just a minute. She wouldn’t stop crying.” “She doesn’t even like me! She hates me!” “She loves you!” “You didn’t even try to make it sound convincing!” I slump in my chair. “She’s not gonna wanna see me. Probably throw a pillow at my head or something.” “Nah.” Carter grins. “It’s the heels you gotta watch out for.”

“I’m not crying,” she cries, jabbing a finger into my chest. “You’re crying!” Riiight … “Uh, do you need a … hug?” Cautiously, I inch toward her, opening my arms in slow motion. She might, like, bite. I don’t know how this shit works. My sisters are a lot younger than Jennie; their problems are easily solved with hugs.

Taking her hands in mine, I gently guide her into me. She comes willingly, dragging her ass about it though, and I wrap my arms around her. She smells nice, intoxicating—like vanilla and cinnamon and coffee. When she carefully slips her arms around my middle and lays her cheek over my heart, I find out she feels nice too. Warm and soft, like when my mom used to microwave my underwear on those extra-cold east coast winter mornings.

“Garrett?” I glance over my shoulder, finding that faint flash of violet-blue peeking through the crack in the door. “Yeah?” She licks her lips, drops her gaze, and I barely catch her words before she slams the door. “Thanks for the hug.” I scrub my hands down my face. “Well, I’m fucking dead.”

“So, uh … good night.” His eyes widen like he’s forgotten something, and he darts back over. My heart hums as his warm hand slides along my jaw, his fingers tangling in my hair. His lips cover mine in a slow, heated kiss that lights a fire deep in my belly, and I fist the collar of his shirt, holding him close. “Good night.” Garrett pulls away, then drops his lips to mine once more. “Night.” He jogs back to the door, waving at me over his shoulder. “Bye.” He opens the door and looks back at me, eyes sweeping over me, bright like the smile he hits me with. “Have a good sleep, Jennie,” he whispers, and then, for real this time, he leaves, footsteps thudding down the stairs, the front door closing and locking behind him.

Well, that won’t work. Absolutely not. If I can’t have her, nobody else on this team gets her. “Eh, Carter,” I call across the kitchen. Jennie’s icy stare widens. She takes a frantic step away from Jaxon, confirming my suspicion that she’s doing this to get under my skin. Carter ambles over. “What’s up?” “Nice to see Jennie and Jaxon getting along, eh?” Carter’s head whips around. “The fuck he is,” he grinds out, tossing his beer can in the sink and stalking toward the happy couple. Well, Jaxon’s happy; Jennie’s not. Jaxon’s about to be broken, not happy. I’m happy.

“Sorry Riley was bugging you. Thank fuck Garrett tipped me off.” My eyes zero in on the man in question, the one who’s watching, wiggling his fingers in a wave. “Yes,” I murmur. “Thank fuck.”

I changed my mind. I want her, and I’m gonna have her.

“If he talks to me, I’m gonna make a mistake. A huge mistake.” I climb the stairs two at a time and beeline down the hall. “I won’t be able to stop myself. Huge mistake, Jennie. Huge. No. Nope.” I heave open the linen closet and throw myself inside it. Safe. The door swings open a moment later, and the moonlight filtering through the window in the hallway illuminates a pair of piercing eyes as the intruder sweeps into the tiny space and shuts us in. “Great thinking on the closet, Jennie.” Garrett’s gravelly voice sends a shiver down my spine. He smacks the wall, lighting the space with a warm glow via the tiny chandelier hanging above us, and the man has never looked so sinister. “Think we lost them.” My heart leaps to my throat as he steps into me, towering. This man right here is all devil as he slowly crowds me, gaze locked on mine as he pins my hips to the wall. “Now tell me about that huge mistake you wanna make.”

“Are you having fun playing this little game?” “Funny you should ask. That’s exactly what I wanna do.” I capture her hands in mine, pinning them on either side of her head. “I want to play.” Silence echoes between us as the words settle. Jennie laughs lowly. “You think I’m gonna let you into my Disneyland just for fun? Oh, Garrett, you’re adorable. What makes you think I’d agree to something like that?” I press my lips to the thundering pulse point on her neck. “Besides the fact that your body’s giving away how much the idea intrigues you? Our chemistry is off the charts, don’t you think? I go all tongue-tied, you scream at me ’til you’re hot and bothered, and all the while I’m thinking about throwing your legs over my shoulders and gorging on my favorite dessert.” I kiss the hollow spot below her ear, reveling in her shiver. “That’s you, sunshine. You’re my favorite dessert.” With my hand on her throat, I haul her into me. Breathless, she clings to me as I whisper my next words. “C’mon, Jennie. Play with me.”

Jennie’s scowl is particularly ferocious, cheeks rosy as she breathes heavily. She whips off her cardigan and steps toward me. “I wanna play.”

My chest rumbles, and she grips a fistful of my shirt, hauling me into her. Her tongue slides into my mouth as my hands crawl up her top, circling her warm waist.

“The fuck’s he talking about?” Garrett demands, gaze raking over me. “He hurt you?” “I’m fine,” I grumble. “Did. He. Hurt. You?” His gravelly, harsh tone has my mouth gaping and butterflies erupting. Bossy looks so, so good on this man. I gesture haphazardly toward my previously injured ankle, and his gaze hardens before he stalks off.

But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna sit by and let someone disrespect you or your boundaries just because we aren’t dating. I’m still gonna have your back.”

We stop at a red light, and Garrett’s eyes flit between me and the road, fingers drumming the steering wheel. I twist toward him, prepared to tell him to spit whatever it is out already. But he leans over the console, pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

Sometimes the silence is louder than the laughter, an ear-piercing roar that has you begging for it to end.

“You gonna let me be your midnight kiss?” Ten. Her wild eyes jump between mine. “Maybe.” Five. “Not the answer I’m looking for.” Four. Three. Two. One. “Then maybe you should just take what you want.” Our mouths clash in a frenzy, fingers plowing through hair, hips grinding, tongues sweeping, all while the house erupts with cheers and hollers below.

“Can I tell you something, Garrett?” “Of course.” “I don’t make friends all that easily. I have a hard time trusting people. I’ve learned to be okay with keeping my circle small, but you … you’ve made everything better.” Her sleepy blue eyes stare up at me, shining with vulnerability. “I think you’re my best friend.” She drops her gaze to my chest, cheeks radiating with heat. “It would really hurt me to lose you.”

But I can promise her one thing. “Best friends don’t lose each other, Jennie. I’ll be right here, always. I promise you that.”

“I’m no one’s sunshine.” “Fuck, I love when you’re wrong.” My mouth covers hers, coaxing it open, and her tongue meets mine for a slow, sweeping kiss. “You’re my sunshine.”

My friendship with Garrett has shown me the types of connections I’ve been missing all these years, and has sparked a deep craving for more. Coming to this place where I’m forced to hide inside myself is draining. I want the freedom I feel with Garrett, the one that lets me be unapologetically myself, and I want to experience it always, everywhere I go. Is the connection we share the kind you find regularly? Is it the type of connection you create with all your friends? Or is this connection unique to him? To us? Is it fleeting and rare, the powerful kind that allows a deep and meaningful relationship to bloom? The kind you grab hold of and tell yourself, no matter what, don’t you dare let go?

“Thank you, Garrett. This is the best date I’ve ever been on.” I huff a laugh. “It’s the only one you’ve ever been on.” “Yeah, the competition is nonexistent.” She slips her mitt off and carefully hooks her pinky around mine before turning her gaze back out on the way this Vancouver night glows. Then she murmurs, “I think it’d still be the best.”

“It makes sense. It’s just … sometimes it feels like I don’t fit in with anyone.” “You weren’t made to fit in, Jennie. You stand out way too much to hide in the shadows.”

When I open the door, Jennie stands there in a pair of plaid sleep pants and my hoodie. Her cool blue eyes are red rimmed and exhausted, shattered, and her chin quivers as she peers up at me. “I’m sorry, Garrett.” The words are fractured and hoarse, and when my arms open, she falls into them, burying her face in my shoulder as she trembles in my hold, and I know: My heart hasn’t ever beat so hard for another person.

But now, as I meet Garrett’s stare over Carter’s shoulder, I’m painfully aware that there’s one heartbreak I never want to experience, one person I never want to lose, and right now, he’s wearing a gentle, patient smile all for me. So do I keep allowing fear to tighten its grip on me, to control my life? Or do I take Garrett’s hand and ask him to jump with me?

When I do, I glue on my best carefree smile, pick up my plate of Pop-Tarts, and squeeze myself back between my friends, both of whom steal a Pop-Tart from my tray. “Tell Garrett thanks for the Pop-Tarts.” It’s not Cara who says it. It’s Olivia.

And then his mouth takes mine. It’s everything I want it to be: starved, possessive, wet, hot. God, it’s so hot. But more than that, it’s … wistful. Yearning. Reverent. He missed me. Maybe as much as I missed him.

I sniffle, wiping at my eyes. “Thanks, Jaxon. You’re a good friend.” We watch him leave, and when he disappears, Garrett raises his fist. “Good call on the tears.” I bump my fist off his. “Gets ’em every time.”

“You keep feminine products here for the girls you have over?” Two lines appear between his eyebrows when they quirk. Garrett leans over me, pulling out his toothpaste and depositing it in my hand. “No.” He hooks his thumb under my chin and lifts my mouth to his, kissing me deeply. “I keep feminine products here for you.”

Her mouth dips to my ear. “Are you opposed to violence?” “Not at all.” “Great.” She spins back to Kevin, her grin so expansive, so conniving as she steps into him. “Hey, Kevin?” she asks, syrupy sweet. His eyes bounce between us. “Yeah?” Her fist connects with his nose with a crack that echoes in the chilled air, along with the collective gasp from onlookers passing by. She wipes the blood off her knuckles. “Go fuck yourself.” As Emily loops her arm through mine, towing me away from the man clutching his face, the most startling revelation comes to light. Despite that she’s slept with the man I’m falling for, I actually … like Emily.

“Mom? What’s going on? The girls are upset, and they said you and Dad had a fight.” “Garrett,” Mom cries softly. “He left.” “Left? What do you mean he left?” “We had a fight, and he just … he … walked out.” My mind races to process her words, but before I truly can, she adds on a whisper, “He took a bottle of whiskey with him.”

And then it happens. My vision clouds. My nose tingles. No amount of blinking helps. My mouth opens to answer, chin trembling, but instead that first tear falls, followed by the second, and the third, all of them cascading down my cheeks, and Emily soars across the hallway. She holds my quivering body tight to hers, and my words finally come, broken and shattered, just like me. “You said he wanted me too.”

“But maybe sometimes we need to hit rock bottom to gain a new perspective. You put the work in and came back stronger than ever. You became the dad I always wanted, and I’m grateful to know that man, that that’s the man my sisters know. That you struggled, that you still struggle sometimes, it doesn’t make you a failure. It makes you human.”

“I bet if you ask her for another chance, she’ll give it to you.” “You think so?” “You’re worth a second chance, Garrett.”

“Your brother once told me we miss out on the best things in life when we’re scared. I was scared for a long time, and when I finally jumped, I couldn’t even remember why I’d been so scared.”

If you jump, Jennie, I think he’s going to be waiting there to catch you.” So badly, I want her to be right. For once in my life, I just want to be loved. Loved for who I am, for what I have to give. I want someone to see everything I bring to the table and eagerly sit down with me.

Because with him, I’m safe. Safe to be myself, safe to feel, safe to want, safe to be. If this is love, I’m in it. If this is love, I never want to let go.

“I’m so fucking tired of pretending.” “Pretending what?” It’s nothing but a breathy whisper as he prowls toward me, matching each of my steps backward. His strong hands cup my face, piercing gaze locked on mine as he looms above me. My heart slams in my chest as his thumb sweeps across my lower lip, and his eyes dip, watching as my lips part on a jagged inhale, before flipping back up to mine. “I’m so fucking tired of pretending I’m not in love with you.”

“Are you … Are you sure?” “I’ve never been surer of anything.” His words are tender, like the fingers he presses to my jaw, forbidding me from looking away. “I love you, Jennie.” Nobody’s ever loved me before, not like this. And to be loved by the only person I want to love me … I can’t wrap my head around

He smiles. “I like that your walls were there. You committed to knowing yourself better than anyone before letting someone else in, and I admire that. So many people have shallow, empty relationships because they don’t really know themselves. But I only know you so well because you do, because you’re able to be unapologetically yourself.”

Garrett’s gaze steals down to our clasped hands before lifting back to me. “You’re my best friend, Jennie, but I don’t want to be just friends anymore. I don’t want some of the benefits, I want all of them. I want all of you.” “I’m already yours, Garrett, because of the friendship we built.”

“Nobody can take him from me. I’ll always keep him with me. And you don’t need to ask me to support your dad. I support you and anyone you love, anyone who tries to be better than they were. Isn’t that life? Aren’t we all trying to be better than the version of ourselves we were yesterday?”

He chuckles. “Well, there’s one more, and you might love it more.” “I doubt that.” I stick my hand into the tissue paper, feeling the softness of the object below. It’s plush but a little coarse at the same time, kind of cozy, like something that’s been well-loved. “I don’t think anything could top the—” My words fizzle, dying in my throat as I pull the stuffed animal from the bag. Its pink fur, once so bright, is pale and muted, just the way I remember, the white patch on its chest a little gray from years of dragging it everywhere, the black button eye on the left hanging loose. I clutch my favorite bunny to my chest, inhaling the smell, the familiarity, welcoming the memories that flood my mind, and tears spill down my cheeks. “Princess Bubblegum,” I weep into her fur. “You found her.”