Page 75 of Let the Game Begin (Kiss Me Like You Love Me #1)
I gathered up my bag and put on my dove-gray coat before following Kyle to the exit. I forced myself not to glance at Neil or his friends when we had to walk past their table. Still, I held my breath until we got out the door. Fortunately, none of them paid any attention to us.
I spent about two hours with Kyle as we drove around town, listening to one of his favorite albums in the car. I also got a call from Jared while I was with him, and I inquired, as always, about Jared’s mother and asked him to tell me when he had the time to talk for longer.
Regardless of how things went with Neil, Jared deserved to know my true stance on our relationship.
When Kyle brought me home—or rather, to Matt’s home—he complimented me on the impressive facade. I didn’t invite him in and got out of the car immediately after thanking him. I didn’t even allow him to walk me to the front steps.
I slowly approached the front door, and even from the paved driveway, I could see the light on the pool house, spilling out the windows. It had to be Neil. He was the only one who used the pool house, and exclusively to be with women.
It had been a while, actually, since I’d heard moans and groans coming from his bedroom, and I wondered why he’d made that change to his routine. I wondered even more if it had anything to do with my presence.
I shook my head and kept walking, shivering from the cold.
I stopped short again, however, when I spotted Neil’s silhouette on a chaise longue.
He rested his elbows on his knees, his head first lowered as he focused on the crystalline water of the pool, illuminated by colorful lights, before he raised it to look at me.
In the semi-darkness, alone and partially obscured, he inspired a kind of fear that I had only experienced a few times in my life.
An intense shudder run down my spine when his eyes, which I could barely see from such a distance, scrutinized me from top to bottom.
For a moment, I imagined that he’d been there the whole time, waiting for me to come back. But I quickly dismissed that ridiculous idea. Neil didn’t care about anyone except himself and his physical needs.
I hesitated for a few seconds, unsure of how to proceed.
Part of me wanted to just go into the house, eat dinner, and go to bed. But before I could really even consider what the best decision would be, my legs were taking me toward the pool, walking around it to reach him.
His lips wrapped around the cigarette, sucking in the smoke before falling open to release it out into the air.
“You’re going to have so many things to tell your boyfriend.
” His baritone broke the silence as I stood there, still staring at him.
“First you’ll have to tell him that you lost your virginity to me, and now you’re going to have to explain that you’re into some musician who just came to town.
” There was no mockery in his voice, nor any irritation.
He sounded serious and reflective. He smiled without looking at me, as though savoring the taste of the nicotine while he looked into the pool.
The smell of chlorine came over us in waves because of the light, brisk breeze that made me occasionally shudder from cold.
“Not every human relationship has a sexual element. Kyle is my friend,” I answered him.
“And he’s not my boyfriend,” I added, though I felt a stab of pain in my chest. I wasn’t at all sure that Jared would agree with that assessment, but how was I supposed to conclusively dash his hopes when he was already suffering so much?
“Not your boyfriend,” Neil repeated, sounding amused.
“Don’t be tedious. It’s my business.” I was irritated because I already knew that I’d done wrong by Jared.
“You should be honest, especially with yourself. I saw how you blushed when Lucky Kyle or whatever the hell his name is looked at you earlier. You’re no different from the rest of them after all,” he accused, bringing the cigarette back to his lips so he could inhale even more toxic chemicals.
I tilted my head to one side and looked at him before taking a few confrontational steps forward. “What do you mean by that?”
“Just that all a man needs to do is give you a wink, pretend to be a gentleman, pour on the compliments, and off you go with him,” he said, finally looking me in the eyes.
He sounded calm, but it felt like he was in the mood to hurt me, like I was no longer the Selene of the other night, the one he had kissed and touched right there where he was now sitting.
“And what’s wrong with that? It’s not like I slept with him.” I raised my voice in vexation. I didn’t even know why we were talking about Kyle or what purpose this ridiculous conversation served.
“Don’t get upset about it, Tinkerbell. You’re a woman, and as such, you’re weak when it comes to men.” He ground out the butt in the ashtray and spit the last plume of smoke into the air with an arrogant certainty that got right under my skin.
“To men in general?” I repeated in surprise.
“The only man I’ve allowed to violate my boundaries thus far is the asshole I’m arguing with right now.
I’m sorry, Neil, but I happen to find Kyle interesting because I can talk to him, because he’s cultured, and because I like cultured men who can carry on a conversation.
” I was praising Kyle just to further provoke Neil.
His reaction to all of this was completely incomprehensible to me, but I had no intention of letting him walk all over me.
“Cultured…” He got to his feet, looming so far above me that I had to tilt my head back to look into his face.
The certainty I had felt up until that point was starting to wane.
I felt a sudden wash of helplessness, and I could only attribute it to his imposing size, which, unfortunately, was having exactly the effect he was hoping for: I was intimidated.
Neil moved closer, and I breathed in slowly, smelling his body wash. He leaned down to my ear and parted his lips.
“Some people—and I am one of them—hate happy ends. We feel cheated. Harm is the norm,” he whispered, leaving me speechless.
“That’s what your beloved Nabokov said,” he added in a sensual tone, the heat of his breath traversing the collar of my coat and moving down my body, all the way to center of me.
Then, he pulled away just far enough to look me in the eye, and he smiled because he had demonstrated something about himself that I hadn’t known before.
“You’ve read Nabokov?” I murmured softly, like a child afraid to speak. I was definitely surprised.
“If you want to know something more about me, you have to give me something of yourself in return,” he answered, walking off toward the pool house.
Two minutes later, I found myself inside the pool house, taking in its homey furnishings.
The walls were bright; a large glass door led out onto the outdoor patio and the pool.
There was a kitchen in one corner with a large fridge, a stove, and a breakfast bar complete with stools.
The dining table was small, though, and tucked between the kitchen and the larger room, right where I was standing, gaping like a fish.
There was a modern pellet fireplace, an enormous plasma screen, a wall storage unit, and a white leather sofa in the corner.
Finally, a door led into the infamous bedroom, which had an attached bathroom. In short, the pool house was a real luxury, small but extremely comfortable. Matt’s money was well spent.
“You seem tense.” Neil opened the fridge and grabbed a can of beer, which he opened and lifted to his mouth. I wasn’t just tense; I was extremely anxious.
“Make yourself at home,” he added, glancing at the coat I was still wearing and the bag that still hung from my shoulder.
I followed his advice and put both my coat and bag on the coat rack by the door.
I glanced around before tugging down the hem of the sweater I was wearing over my basic, light-wash jeans.
I rubbed my hands together, and after spotting the gesture, Neil pointed at the fireplace.
“That’ll warm you up, though…” He advanced on me slowly, leaving his beer on the bar. “I do know some other ways to fix that problem,” he said, shamelessly looking my body up and down with a disappointed expression on his face.
“Wh-what is it?” I stammered, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Don’t you ever wear skirts?” His golden eyes came back to my face as he waited for my response.
“Should I? I don’t really like them.” And I didn’t understand this absurd question. Was he trying to dictate how I dressed?
I backed away from him and examined the living room to buy myself some time.
“I don’t dress the way your lovers do. Is that what’s bothering you?
Do you not like my look? Is it too…babyish?
” I teased him, while I looked at the colorful painting mounted right above the fireplace.
Then, I turned to face him, displaying an uncharacteristic confidence that I was mostly just pretending to possess.
He seemed far away, yet he was slowly undressing me with his eyes. I caught him staring at my ass, outlined clearly in my tight jeans as well as the curves of my body, highlighted by my thin sweater. I thought about how many times his hands had traced over those same curves.
“Do you want to play a game?” he suggested, and his low voice didn’t bode well at all.
“What kind of game?” I asked in a feeble voice.
Neil walked over to me and touched my cheek, making me go rigid.
“You’re too tense.” He kissed my neck and fit our bodies together. He brushed his lips along my jaw and then exhaled against my mouth, locking eyes with me.
“I don’t want to go into that bedroom. I don’t want to go to the same place you take everyone else.” I made myself very clear, my voice low, although I quivered when his hand continued touching my cheek. He smiled and slid his fingers along my arm, pulling a gasp from me.