Page 69 of The Wrong Game

My eyes were zeroed in on the back of my best friend’s pretty little head as I imagined what it’d look like if I kicked her to the ground.

Belle bounced up the stairs, falling in line behind the other fans filing up to the concession stands. When we made it to the top, she pulled off to the side, smiling and flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Hmm, now that we’re up here, I think I might want pizza. Do you want pizza?”

I wrapped my fist in Zach’s hoodie and tugged her into a corner out of the way. “Cut the shit, Belle.”

“Hey!” she pouted, swatting my hand away and smoothing the fabric of the hoodie.

“What are you doing?”

Belle blinked. “I’m watching the game, just like you.”

“No. I mean what are you doinghere, with him.”

She smiled, looking back to our seats like she could somehow see him over the crowd. “He asked me to come. We hung out that night at the bar, and I don’t know, he’s fun. I figured it’d be cool. Plus, you’re here. I can hang out with both of you.”

I gritted my teeth. “Belle.”

“What?” she asked incredulously, pulling her hair over one shoulder and running her fingers through it. “What does it matter that I came with him, anyway? I thought you didn’t want to date him. I thought you wanted to be hisfriend.”

“I do,” I answered with a huff, blinking more than necessary. “That’s not the point.”

“Whatisthe point?”

“The point is, you’re my best friend,” I said, stepping into her. “And you’re on a date with a guyIwas on a date with three weeks ago.”

Belle smirked, one brow perking up as she crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one hip.

“I thought it wasn’t a date.”

I tossed my hands up. “Oh, my God. You know what I mean. Stop playing dumb. I—”

“YOU FIRST,” Belle said, cutting me off as she poked me hard in the chest.

Her eyes narrowed, lips flattening into a thin line as I rubbed the spot she’d just poked, taking a step back.

She shook her head, like I was blind or crazy or both. “Gemma, I’m not here because I want to date Zach. Although, to be completely honest, if he would have showed interest in me before you, you can guaranfuckingtee I would have jumped all over that.”

I blinked, digesting her words as the crowd shifted around us, but she didn’t give me much of a chance to catch on before she continued.

“I’m here because you’re being stupid. You’re letting this guy go when youknowyou like him, you know he’s amazing, and all because what? You’re afraid of being hurt?” Belle laughed. “Yeah, dating is scary. It’s fucking terrifying. But look at how happy Zach makes you when you’renotdating him. Can you imagine what it could be like if you were?”

I swallowed, pressing my lips together, not a single word coming to mind to refute her point.

“You’ll never know what happiness you could have with him if you don’t take the risk of being hurt, Gemma.”

My shoulders sagged, mind running over what she’d said as my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. But then I crossed my arms, shaking my head at the pot calling the kettle black. “Says the queen of being single,” I popped off. “You never date. How can you preach to me when you’re the spokesperson for this shit?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I never date,” she said, her jaw tight. “I never let anyone in. And you know what? I’mmiserable. I’m lonely, and detached, and I haven’t had a real, genuine connection with anyone other than you in years. So yeah, I have some shit to figure out, and I’m working on it.” Her bottom lip quivered a bit, but she stood taller, holding her shoulders back. “But don’t be fooled into thinking that this is some sort of glamorous life,” she continued, gesturing to herself. “Because it isn’t.”

I softened at that, reaching out to squeeze her hand. At first, she flinched, but she didn’t pull away. She squeezed my hand in return, a heavy sigh leaving her chest.

“I know Carlo hurt you, okay? I know,” she said softly. “And I know that me showing up here with Zach wasn’t the best thing I could do as your friend. I knew I was pushing your buttons — that was the goal. And it was against everything you told me you wanted,” she admitted. “But Zach is a good guy. And unlike Carlo, he’s here,fightingfor you. He wants you. And I know you want him. Stop fighting against him and just… try. Trust him. See what happens.”

In theory, her advice sounded so pleasant. It sounded like everything I wanted, to go fall into Zach’s arms, to let him in, to try.

But my wounds from Carlo were still fresh, not even scabbed over and scarring yet. They throbbed in protest of the thought.