Playing By The Rules (The Players)

PRETTY SURE MY PLAN WORKED. The moment Cam took in my outfit, his eyes practically bugged out of his head. He didn’t approve, or so he said.

I think he approved plenty. He wouldn’t stop staring at my chest. And he keeps inhaling loudly as he’s driving, and I remember when he commented on my perfume before. I think he likes my Gucci Gorgeous scent. I might need to go buy a vat of that stuff. I sprayed so much on myself tonight as I was getting ready, I probably used up most of the bottle.

Not that I mind. It’s worth using up a bunch of expensive perfume to get that reaction out of Cam, the man who rarely reacts at all.

The closer we get to fraternity row, the quieter Cam gets. He’s quiet enough as it is, so I’m thinking something is seriously bugging him. I just wish I knew exactly what it was.

“Do you not want to go to this party?” I finally ask.

“I want to go. I just—worry what might happen if we walk in together.”

“What? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” I’m kind of mad he would say something like this.

“No, it’s not that. I just know if anyone from the team sees us together—and there will be guys from the team there, I can guarantee it—they’re going to tell Knox. And then Knox will ask me about it, and I won’t know what to say.”

“Just say you came with me to babysit. Isn’t that what you said last night?”

He pulls the car alongside the curb, putting the vehicle in park before he turns to look at me. “I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

“Like what?”

“Like we’re…together.” He faces straight ahead, like he can’t look at me, which builds the anger within me, slowly but surely.

“It’s fine.” Leaning down, I grab my bag off the floorboard and slip the strap onto my shoulder. “We can walk in separately.”

The frat house we’re going to is the next block up. It won’t be much of a walk at all.

“I don’t know—”

“I do know, and that’s fine with me. I’m a big girl. I can walk into a party by myself.” I climb out of the car without another word, slamming the door as hard as I can, the car rattling with the force of it. Shaking my hair back, I head down the sidewalk with my head held high, ignoring Cam who’s trying to—not so discreetly—call my name.

“Cam.” I turn and watch him as he approaches, resting my hands on my hips, annoyed beyond reason. And I’m so tired of being annoyed with Cam Fields. Isn’t he tired of this bullshit too? “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Clearly, you’re not comfortable being seen with me, or being with me in general. We’re wasting each other’s time here.”

“What?” He sounds completely confused, and I almost feel sorry for him.

Almost.

“I’m walking into that frat by myself, and if you want to show up a few minutes later, looking like we didn’t come together, cool. Go for it. But if you really want to leave? I’m okay with that too.”

We study each other in silence for a minute, and I take the opportunity to really drink him in. Just like I made the effort to dress up for him, it appears he did the same for me too. He’s wearing a fitted navy button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and jeans, with pristine white Nikes on his feet.

I’m tempted to step all over them with my sandals, but I tell myself to chill.

He looks good. I swear he even got a haircut, his dark hair trimmed neatly on the sides and a little longer on top. His dark eyes sweep over me, lingering on spots that he has no business lingering over, and I stand up straighter, squaring my shoulders. Preparing for a fight.

“Go ahead and walk in first,” he says. “I’ll wait a few before I come inside.”

Without a word, I turn away from him and start walking, my anger growing with every step closer to the frat. He’s such a wimp. Is he that afraid Knox will find out we came together to this stupid party? Knox would probably be relieved that Cam escorted me here. At least Knox can trust his best friend not to do anything, ahem, inappropriate towards me.

Ugh that’s so annoying.

The closer I get to the house party, the louder everything sounds: multiple conversations happening at once, punctuated by a squeal of high-pitched laughter. The low pulsing bass of music being played. A group of people loudly counting down, right before they all scream, “Chug!”

Ah, welcome to college.

The front lawn is teeming with people, the majority of them male, and all of them looking at me with undisguised interest in their eyes. I offer them a wave as I head up the sidewalk that leads to the porch, carefully taking the steps while all eyes are on me. The moment I’m inside, I breathe a sigh of relief, swallowed up in the crowd.

I didn’t like being put on display just now in front of those guys. Made me feel kind of creepy.

There are so many people in this house, it’s hard to move. I patiently make my way through the crowd, smiling at familiar faces, wishing someone would say something to me.

Wishing more that Cam was man enough to enter the house by my side.

“Blair, you made it!”

I turn to find Ace leaning against the wall, surrounded by a group of women who are all watching me with suspicious gazes. He’s grinning at me and he pushes away from the wall, approaching me with open arms just before he wraps me up in a big hug.

“I’m so glad you came.” He rocks me back and forth, and it takes me a minute to extract myself from his hold. And when I finally do break free, I find he’s still grinning at me while the women all watch me, looking ready to scratch my eyes out. “Where’s Cam?”

“Cam?” I glance around like I’m looking for him. “I don’t know.”

“Oh. I thought you two were coming here together.”

“You did?” I squeak, clearing my throat.

Don’t want to give myself away.

“Well, yeah. I saw his hand on your thigh last night so…” He nods, giving me a look that says he’s on to us. “I just thought you two were a thing.”

I swallow hard, trying to come up with something to say, but I draw a blank. So I just shrug instead.

“You two are together?”

“Uh, no.” I smile brightly at him. “No. Not really. Not at all. He’s just a friend. My brother’s friend. And mine. Nothing else. Just friends.”

I’m babbling and I sound stupid. I need to quit while I’m ahead.

“Uh huh.” The knowing look on Ace’s face tells me he’s got us all figured out after all. “Do you know if he’ll be here tonight?”

“Are you talking about Camden Fields?” one of the girls standing by Ace asks.

He turns his charm on her. “I am. I’m his backup QB. We’re friends.”

I want to roll my eyes. “He should be coming.”

“Really?” Ace asks, at the same time that half of the females he’s with do as well.

Nodding, I send all of them an assessing look. I do not want any of these women near Cam tonight. They are all far too good looking and a lot of them are showing plenty of skin. More than I am, and I felt like I was really pushing the limits. “He should be here any minute.”

With that, I turn and leave them, heading deeper into the house, in search of the kitchen. I eventually find it, relieved to see that it’s not as crowded as the rest of the house and I can actually breathe in here.

There are giant steel buckets full of cans of beer on the floor, a row of bottles of hard liquor lining the counter, and I can see through the window that faces the backyard that there are a couple of kegs outside as well. Plenty of alcohol to get good and drunk tonight, which is rapidly becoming my plan.

I grab a red solo cup and a bottle of flavored vodka and pour myself a drink, taking a sip and grimacing the moment the overly sweet alcohol hits my tongue. Hissing through my gritted teeth, I take another drink, steeling myself, enjoying the sensation of the liquor burning a pleasant trail through my veins, settling into my stomach. Despite the bad taste, I can already feel it working its magic on me.

Magic I desperately need.

“Hey.”

I glance up to find a very attractive dark-haired guy approaching me with just the right amount of swagger that makes him seem confident without being too cocky. I glance around quickly to make sure he’s actually talking to me before I say, “Hi.”

He comes to a stop directly in front of me, standing on the other side of the counter. “I don’t think I’ve seen you on campus.”

“I just started here this fall,” I offer.

“Ah, that makes sense. I know I’d remember if I saw someone as beautiful as you around here before.” He smiles, and it’s a nice one, but it can’t make up for the cheesy line he just fed me.

I smile in return before I take another sip of the terrible vodka, needing it to carry me through this conversation.

“I’m Cohen.” He thrusts his hand out toward me.

“Blair.” I shake his offered hand, not feeling a single thing when he touches me. Not a tingle, not a shiver. Nothing.

How unfortunate.

“Nice to meet you.” He smiles, reluctantly letting my hand go.

“Yeah. Same.” I glance around the room, wishing I would spot a familiar face.

“Are you from around here?”

I meet his gaze once more. “I grew up in Colorado, yeah.”

“I’m from California.”

“I have family in California,” I offer.

“Oh yeah? From what part?”

Shit. I don’t want to admit to this guy I’m related to Drew Callahan. That would be a mistake. “Somewhere in the mountains? I don’t remember exactly where.”

“We have a lot of mountains in California,” he says with a nod. “It’s beautiful there.”

“It is,” I agree.

“I miss it. But it’s beautiful here, too. The mountains, they’re incredible. Great for snowboarding. Do you snowboard?”

I shake my head. “I’ve done it, but I’m not very good at it.”

“Oh, maybe you just need more practice. I’m not a pro. Not even close, but I enjoy it.”

My problem is I don’t really enjoy it. I’m not very sporty. I’m like my mom in that sense. She loves watching sports—mostly football. She’ll support my dad and brother in every way possible. When I was younger, Ruby and I were both in dance, but I was kind of awkward while Ruby was great. She ended up on the hip hop competition dance team at our studio for a few years in her early teens, and she loved every minute of it.

“You’re living in the perfect state to snowboard,” I say, glancing into my cup. It’s empty and I really don’t want to refill it with that shitty tasting vodka.

“You know someone who’s in this frat?” Cohen asks, changing the subject. “Or did you crash the party? I won’t tell on you if you did.”

“I know someone.” He sends me a pointed look, so I give him a name. “Ace.”

He grins. “You know Ace? Ace is my boy! We were recruited here together.”

I’m guessing this means Cohen is the same age as Ace, and Ace is a year younger than I am. “He’s nice.”

“Yeah, he is. How do you know him?”

This is where I don’t want to admit my connections, but Cohen isn’t leaving me much choice. “I, uh…my brother is Knox Maguire.”

Cohen’s eyes nearly bug out of his head at my reveal. “No shit? You’re related to Knox?”

“Yeah. He’s my big brother.”

“He’s a fucking great football player. Makes sense, considering who his dad is.” Cohen’s eyes seem to grow even larger, if that’s possible. “That means Owen Maguire is your dad too. And Drew Callahan is your uncle.”

“You know your football.”

“I’m from California, remember? I’m a Niner fan. Grew up in the Bay Area. San Mateo.” Realization dawns. “Is that the family you were referring to that lives in California? The Callahans?”

Oh God. I’m in over my head with this conversation. And Cohen has latched on to it like a baby with a bottle.

“Um, yeah.” I laugh, trying to play it off. “We used to go to their lake house a lot. Still do every Thanksgiving.”

“Where you play those infamous football games with the family, right? I can’t even fucking imagine.” He sounds beyond impressed, but I’m a little alarmed.

How did he know about the family football games during Thanksgiving? That’s all my Uncle Drew’s doing. He loves those games. Pretty sure he enjoys Thanksgiving more than Christmas.

“Right. Uh, how did you know about the family football game?” I sound nervous, but that remark left me unsettled.

“Oh, he mentioned it in some article a while ago. And now everyone asks Jake Callahan about it. And Eli Bennett. He’s married to your cousin Ava.”

“Yeah,” I say weakly, hating how much this guy knows about my family. I know they’re in the public spotlight, and it makes sense. Not only was my uncle a revered football player and a game announcer for a few years, but now his son and his sons-in-law all play for the NFL. And my youngest cousin Beck plays college football too. He always brushes it off and says the NFL isn’t for him, but we’ll see.

My family is a giant dynasty of football players that my brother is most likely on his way to becoming a part of.

Just like Cam. He has the potential to go pro as well. Something we’ve never really talked about before.

Something I’m not so sure I would be comfortable with, if I’m being real right now. Oh, I know I could handle it, considering my background. My dad wasn’t nearly as famous as my uncle, he did have his moments of fame, though he was pretty private about it all. Dad had quite a few endorsement deals, and made great money. But it’s a different scenario when you’re the famous QB who leads your team to a number of Super Bowl wins.

That could be Cam. He has the potential. I believe he could do whatever he sets his mind to.

Could I handle that though? I’m getting way ahead of myself, but this dude is freaking me out talking about my family, and my brush with fame isn’t what I would consider a big deal.

If I were with Cam, though? And he entered the NFL with the spotlight shining brightly upon him?

That might be cause for a potential freak out.