Game of Hearts: Chapter 1
Discover more from Elle Fielding
Game of Hearts: Chapter 1
A Crazy Idea
A/N: Hello everyone! I'm excited to bring back an old fan favourite, which I've renamed Game of Hearts to avoid any confusion with the new Kiss Me, Break My Heart. Although the storylines are similar, they are distinct enough to be enjoyed separately.
Regarding Kiss Me, Break My Heart - Cassie and Jace's story - it is currently on hold as I consider how to proceed with its continuation. This is because of it’s joint storyline with Bet Me. I mentioned this in my June Newsletter, and in case you missed it, here's the link. The newsletter contains details about what I'll be sharing now that Rockstar Bay Season One is complete.
Please note that this book was written in 2011 and it is also SET IN 2011. No realism intended.
Gabby
I love my best friend, Aaron Van-Ray, to a fault, but sometimes I want to shake some sense into him. Take tonight, for instance. Ever since we plopped our butts onto the booth seat at the Croaky Seagull, he hasn't stopped talking about a woman who is not worth his time and her new relationship with his work nemesis.
"I can't believe she left me for that absolute dickhead. I mean, what does she see in him? He's so smarmy. So fake. How can she not see through it?"
Aaron often makes these sorts of comments about his long-time work rival, August. Competing over who can win the affections of a selected target is a sick and twisted game and downright despicable. But Aaron and August are actively encouraged to compete by their employers. From what I've been told tonight, Aaron has lost the latest round of their game to August. Usually, I would tell my best friend he deserves the worst for partaking in such foolish games. However, something is different this time.
Most women walk in and out of Aaron's life in the blink of an eye, but Jenna-Lee Jeffries walked in a few months ago, and she's the first woman I've seen him reluctant to let go of. Aaron's rugged good looks have never failed to catch the attention of women. Above his left eyebrow, there's a scar, a reminder of the time he got into a fight defending me in high school. With his neatly trimmed light brown hair styled in a short back and sides with longer locks on top, his muscular build, and piercing brown eyes with green flecks, Aaron could have any woman he wanted. But he's always been a player, never staying with one woman for too long.
What I want to tell him is, "you're better off without her. You need someone who loves and appreciates you, like I do." Instead, I take a sip of my wine. I've never told him how I feel. Aaron has broken so many hearts over the years that there is probably a group of his ex-girlfriends who meet weekly in town to bond over their pain and throw darts at a cut-out of his face. Okay, I don't know that for sure, but I'm ninety percent certain there is.
My point is, I might be stupidly in love with my best friend, but I don't want to join that club. If he was the sort of man who didn't run from women the moment they showed their feelings, it would be different. But Aaron is who he is, and while he's obsessed with dodging feelings, it's not worth the risk. Aaron and I have been friends for a long time, and the thought of losing the one constant in my life—the person who has been there for my every success, every failure, every break-up—has always stopped me from telling him how I feel.
"I have to get her back, Gabby. I'd do anything."
"Women don't matter to you. That's what you tell me."
Aaron doesn't include me in that statement because, fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how I look at it, the man doesn't see me that way.
He shakes his head. "Jenna-Lee's different."
"How?"
"I think I'm in love with her."
His words land like an unexpected punch. The air rushes out of my lungs, and I struggle to breathe, feeling a sharp ache in my stomach from the blow.
"You have to help me, Gabby," he pleads.
He's asking me to grasp the impossible, to come to terms with the insane. And here I sit, gaping at my best friend like a fish out of water.
"Tell me what to do," he pleads.
The desperation in his voice tears at my heart, exposing the raw and bleeding wound of my unrequited love. For years, I've secretly dreamed that someday he would stop his mission of exiting every relationship before falling in love. I've hoped he would realize there is someone he's not afraid to fall in love with, someone he can see himself with for the rest of his life. But now that he's confessed his feelings for someone else, I'm shattered. Bereft and lost. I always thought it would be the two of us, him and me. Maybe not now, but someday. Now, that fantasy has been ripped away. He's flipped my world on its head.
I want to tell him that he's making a mistake, that he doesn't belong with her, but the look of anguish on his face keeps me silent. My heart twists painfully in my chest, torn between my loyalty to him and the pain settling in my ribcage. The thought of him being with anyone else makes breathing painful and fills me with a stabbing sensation in my gut.
But as much as he's shattered my heart, I hate that he's hurting, and I can't help but want to take away his pain. So, despite the ache in my chest, I find myself brainstorming.
I take another sip of my wine and place it back on the table, trying to think of something suitable to say. When it comes to practical experience in winning women back, well, I have none. But I'm willing to try giving him advice. I'd do anything to make him happy, even if it means setting aside my own feelings.
"I don't know, Aaron. In the movies, they use jealousy when they want to win someone back."
"Jealousy?"
"Yeah, you know, that horrible green emotion that makes you want something someone else has," I say, attempting a joke.
The emotion currently tightly gripping me, squeezing my insides, making every breath painful.
He doesn't smile. "I know what jealousy is, Gabby. How do I make her jealous?"
"Pretend to be with someone else. Show her you've moved on and don't want her anymore."
"Does that ever actually work?"
"I don't know. I've never tried it. It works in the movies, though."
He looks at me thoughtfully. "Jenna-Lee never liked you."
"I know."
He makes a face. "She thought you were in love with me."
I swallow hard and look away, making a sound that resembles a strangled scoff.
"It didn't matter how many times I told her you weren't. She never believed me. She hated it whenever I spent time with you."
"She was insecure."
He shakes his head. "No, she was jealous."
When his eyes brighten and a small smile tugs at his lips, my stomach sinks. "No, Aaron."
"Yes! It's perfect. She'll hate it if she thinks we're together."
"It's crazy!" Desperation creeps into my voice.
"It's genius."
"Someone else would be a better choice."
Anyone else would be a better choice than me. I can't do it. I can't 'pretend' to be in love with my best friend. What if I fake it a little too well? What if he realizes the truth, and then what if that ruins everything?
He taps his fingers on the side of his glass. "It would never work with anyone else. She'll never believe it."
"Forget it. It's a stupid idea."
"Come on, Gabby."
"No. I won't be a part of this stupid game you play with August."
"I love her."
His eyes plead with me. God, he really believes it. How many times can one conversation shatter my heart? Every time he says those words, my heart takes a beating.
His dark gaze holds mine. "I'd do it for you, Gab."
I know he would. He's done crazy things for me, and he's never asked for a thing in return. Until now. So, how can I refuse him? It had been my idea, after all, my very stupid idea. If I say no, he'll want to know why. What valid reason could I give him? I never thought you'd fall in love with a woman, but if you did, I hoped that woman would be me? No.
My eyes wander to his now-empty bourbon glass. We've both had an awful lot to drink tonight. Maybe if I ply him with enough alcohol, he won't remember any of this conversation.
"Please, Gab," he begs.
"Okay."
The look of relief on his face twists the knife in my gut. "Thank you. I love you."
Just not the way he loves Jenna-Lee. Standing up, I offer a small smile, one that hopefully doesn't betray the way my heart is bleeding and breaking. Aaron has always been rather ignorant of my feelings for him. Jenna-Lee, however, clearly has not been.
"I'm going to order more shots," I say.
He points at me. "Great idea. We need to celebrate our plan."
"Right."
Here's hoping alcohol will work a miracle and erase this entire evening from his mind. Unfortunately, I know I won't be lucky enough to forget everything he said. With one conversation, he's ruined every secret fantasy and hope I've pretended not to have.
As I watch the bartender pouring the shots I ordered, my mind races, contemplating a plan to make Aaron's scheme succeed while safeguarding my own heart from potential devastation. I know I have to help him, but I'm unsure if I can handle pretending to be in love with him without devastating consequences.
Hours later, I help Aaron up the stairs to his apartment, struggling one step at a time. I curse the elevators for being out of order, but perhaps it's my penance. Guilt for getting my best friend rip-roaring drunk has been nudging me since I ordered the first round of shots.
"Keys?" I ask him when we finally reach our destination.
"Pocket," he mumbles.
I reach into his jeans pocket and fumble around, trying to grab them. If I didn't already know he's drunk, his lack of jokes about me trying to grope him would give him away.
Finally, I fish the keys out, unlock the door, and we stumble through it with his arm around me. When we reach his king-size bed, Aaron falls onto it, pulling me with him.
I land on top of him with a thud. His eyelids, which had been drooping from fatigue and the effects of alcohol, now flutter open. I push against him, trying to get up, but his arms are still heavy around me, trapping me against him. My body instinctively moulds itself to his hard male body. His eyes lock with mine, making my breath hitch. The familiar and tantalizing scent of his cologne wraps around me, and my breathing grows shallow as desire heats my face and body. My lips are only centimetres away from his. We're practically breathing the same air.
"Aaron."
He releases me from his grip, and my moment of near insanity passes. I roll off him and onto the other side of the bed.
"Stay," he mumbles. "You must be tired."
The lack of sleep, and all those shots, are catching up with me. I don't feel like having to make my way back downstairs and catch a cab to my place, especially when I'm already in a bed that is so comfortable. Still, I should go. I'm just about to tell him I'm leaving when I realize he's already asleep. I get out of bed and pull the covers up and over him.
He stirs slightly. "Jenna-Lee," he mumbles, his eyes still closed.
And that's my cue to leave.
Heart aching and feeling queasy, I walk out of his bedroom. With any luck, Aaron will forget he loves Jenna-Lee, and if he doesn't, hopefully, he will at least forget my stupid suggestion from earlier this evening. Closing his front door behind me, I head for the Uber waiting for me.
I'm going to have to wait until tomorrow to find out if I'm lucky or not.