Page 38 of The Wrong Game

I’d heard every line fromMaking It: How Our Relationship Survived Against All Oddsin one way or another in my life.

Talking to them seemed impossible. Talking to my grandpa was, too, since he was gone. But could I talk tosomeoneabout it? To a stranger?

And what good would it do, anyway? I’d been fine. My life had carried on without him. I was excelling at work. I’d lost weight and toned up. I’d started eating better. I was sleeping fine.

I’m fine.

“Oh, shit,” I murmured, spotting Ben in the crowd. He was still searching for me. “He’s here.”

“You can bail, if you want to,” Belle said. “I’ll be your way out. Say I have explosive diarrhea and can’t even get to the store to get Gatorade to hydrate myself. Say you’re my emergency contact in this situation.”

I paused. “Okay, first, that’s disgusting.” I chuckled then, picturing the scene. “But thank you.” Ben spotted me, tossing up his hand in a wave. “Besides, he’s already seen me.”

“You going to be okay?”

I sighed, forcing a smile and waving back at Ben. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Go get that pussy licked, Tiger.”

“I hate you.”

Belle just laughed and ended the call, leaving me to face my first real date since I was seventeen. And it didn’t matter that I’d convinced myself in my head that this littleplanwas “not dating.” Yes, keeping it to one night meant I wasn’t engaging in any kind of relationship. But still, I was meeting a guy, for an event, with the intention of sleeping with him. It was a date.

And it was the firstofficialone in my adult life.

Unless you count Zach…

I shook my head, becauseno— he definitely did not count. That was hanging out with a friend. That was watching the game.

That was having the best orgasm of my life…

My cheeks flushed, heat still crawling down my neck when Ben finally reached me, a wide grin on his perfect, Ken Doll face.

“Look at you,” he said, eyes washing over my outfit.

It was a little cooler tonight than it had been last week, so I wore jeans instead of shorts. But they were ripped up and down my thighs, and I’d worn burnt-orange fishnets underneath them that showed through the holes. Paired with my Bears jersey, tied in a knot at the front, I had a cute, casual look.

“And…” My face fell as I took in his attire. “Look atyou.”

He was wearing a Detroit Lions t-shirt.

As in,nota Chicago Bears t-shirt.

“Ah, yeah,” Ben said, rubbing the back of his neck with an apologetic shrug. “Did I forget to mention I’m not a Bears fan?”

I blinked. “Why would you message me tocometo a Bears game if you’re not a fan.”

“You said you needed someone to sit with you at the next home game,” he pointed out. “Which just happened to be against my hometown. I did tell you I moved here from Detroit just a couple of years ago, right?”

I blinked again. “You did.”

Ben cocked a brow, smiling like he didn’t just show up to a Bears game wearing the away team’s logo. And I just stood there, staring at him, wondering if I could still take Belle up on her offer.

Calm down, Gemma. It’s not that big of a deal. He’s still the same guy you’ve been talking to.

I forced a breath, and a smile, looping my arm through Ben’s when he offered it. As we walked toward the stadium, I reminded myself why I was doing this in the first place.

I didn’t want to fall in love. I didn’tneeda man to survive. But, I missed that human connection. I missed flirting, and talking, and having someone to watch the game with who actually cared about football. I missed the feel of a man’s hands on my body, of his lips on my skin.