Not My Match (The Game Changers, #2)(22)

He frowns. “What did you mean by your comment about being frigid? Did that jerk tell you that?”

Unwelcome memories wrap around me, and as much as I try to shove them off, they linger. “He did.”

“Asshole.” His eyes flick over to me. “He didn’t deserve a nice girl like you. Don’t let him get in your head.”

I stare out my window.

“Hey,” he says. “Talk to me.”

“You like long stories?”

“Hit me.”

I chew on my bottom lip, and before I think too hard, the horrible truth spills out. “When I was fifteen, almost sixteen, this lacrosse player in high school caught my eye. Handsome with dreamy eyes, he reminded me of Lord Byron, you know, with dark hair and a pout on his lips, like a girl’s. I was a year younger but had skipped a grade, so we were in the same class.” I sigh. “Needless to say, I adored him, and anytime he looked at me—and boy, he had a way of just looking—I did his bidding. Wrote his term paper, let him copy my chemistry notes, saved his seat at lunch—but he never asked me out. He really laid it on thick the summer before our senior year, asking me to come to his practices and watch. After one of those, he led me under the bleachers, and I went, knowing that’s where all the cool kids go to get high or laid. Did you know they voted me the most boring girl of my class? It’s one of those secret lists they make, not the real ones that make the yearbook.” My voice cracks, just a little, and I jerk it back. “Anyway, he kissed me, my first real one, and had me down to my underwear in no time. Then I heard his friends laughing. They were hidden, videoing me on his phone. It was my birthday.” Heat rises in my cheeks, and I’m glad Devon’s looking at the road, his face hard.

“By the time I got home, my daddy was in a coma. Looking back, now that I have distance, I know all guys aren’t like him, but it’s made me hesitant about sex.”

“What’s this dickhead’s name? Where does he live?”

My fists curl. “I took care of him.”

He flashes his eyes over to me. “Good.”

We’ve reached the Breton Hotel, where his penthouse sits at the top. Close to the stadium, the building’s exterior is a dark-gray stucco color. The night valet, a young guy dressed in a black uniform, dashes for the Hummer like it’s the best day of his life, his wide face spreading in a grin.

I take Pookie from the back, and Devon waits for me, his eyes low and heavy, as if he doesn’t want me to read his thoughts. He takes my hand in his, his thumb brushing over mine—killing me with the sparks—as we head inside. The interior is all marble and glass with a chic sitting area encircling a four-tiered stone fountain made of black monolith-style granite. Lush plants and bright flowers in textured gray urns decorate the corners around a twenty-foot fireplace. An older woman at the front desk waves at him, her eyes appreciative as she rakes her gaze over his broad shoulders. I swear she puts her hand over her heart as we pass by. Yeah. Everyone adores him.

My heart flutters, not from the fire but from his proximity. He stalks across the lobby like he owns the whole place, and I keep up with him. He leads me around a hidden alcove and shows me the penthouse elevator and the code to use it. It slides opens, and he tugs me inside.

The air feels thick as we rise to the top.

He lets go of my hand.

“So did you confess to doing the lacrosse player’s homework and get him in trouble?” he asks.

“Worse.”

His arm brushes mine as he takes Pookie from me and arches a brow, the one with the piercing. I have the insane urge to lick it. “Spill your devious ways, Giselle. What did you do to him?”

“My stories can get long, Dev.”

“I want to hear them.”

Butterflies dance in my chest, and I push them down. This is Devon. Friend.

“That night, I sat at the hospital and forgot about Carlton for the moment—that was the lacrosse player’s name.”

“Last name?”

I smirk. “Anyway, Daddy passed that night. When I checked to see if Carlton had posted the video, he hadn’t. Maybe he heard about my dad—it is a small town, and Daddy was the mayor, and news travels fast, so perhaps he felt bad. I don’t know—maybe he never intended to make the video public but planned to use it to hold over me in some way. School was set to start the next day, so I was terrified he planned to do something with it on the first day back. What he didn’t know was that I may be the quiet sort, but I will make a plan.”

“Revenge?”

I nod.

He grins. “You’re fierce.”

My lashes lower. Oh, if you only knew the thoughts I’ve had about you. “I worked at the school office, organizing and cleaning. I had access to info you’d never believe. Records, test papers left on the copier, teacher’s computer passwords—I never used those, by the way.”

“Of course. But you wrote his paper.”

“A mistake. Anyway, I came to school the next day—Mama had no idea. I was exhausted and heartbroken, and my head wasn’t right, but I was angry—God, so angry. At everything.” My breath hitches. “I wasn’t myself.”

He puts an arm around me and tugs me to his side. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

I nod. “I didn’t get my name on the attendance roll, because I wasn’t planning on staying, just slipped into the office, hugged the secretary—she was the sweetest old lady and had heard about Dad—then grabbed Carlton’s locker combination. Keep in mind all students had to leave their phones in their lockers. Then, while everyone was in class, I opened his locker and swiped his phone. I left the textbooks. A man needs an education. With the state I was in, I wanted to blow up everything he had.”