Playing By The Rules (The Players)

TWO DAYS after Cam’s little outburst and I’m back at Logan’s, eager to spot him. I came with Rita and Cheyenne, who are both in good spirits and not at each other’s throats, so we’re at peace for the first time in days.

They argue a lot and it’s so exhausting. I hide away in my room most of the time, avoiding their screaming fights. I don’t particularly enjoy living with them, but what else can I do? Where else can I go? I was assigned this apartment and it’s hard finding another place around here since housing is limited. And I really don’t want to look for somewhere else to live.

I texted my mom, of course, unloading on her all of my worries and concerns, and she said all of the right things, but nothing beats actually having her with me. Giving me a hug when I’m feeling down.

I miss my parents. I miss my sister. My brother?

I’m kind of sick of him right now, ha.

“The boys are out tonight!” Rita lifts her tequila shot in celebration, and Cheyenne clinks it with hers, the liquor sloshing over the rims of both their glasses. “Where’s your shot, Blair?”

I shrug, offering a helpless smile. “I’m the designated driver tonight.”

Rita throws back her shot, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. “We took an Uber here.”

Shit. Not like I can explain to these two that I would rather be sober when I encounter Cam, but they would never get it. “I don’t feel like drinking tonight.”

“Why the hell not?” Cheyenne retorts. “It’s been a tough week.”

The fact that we’re in school seems to have kicked into overdrive for all of us. Assignments have been piled upon us. Big tests are looming. It’s getting serious and I am thriving. I’ve been keeping up with all of my reading, assignments and papers. I’ve taken copious amounts of notes. I am ready to tackle just about anything school-wise, while my roommates act like they’re drowning.

Rita is a STEM major, and major kudos to her, I don’t know how she does it. Cheyenne wants to be a teacher, and I can’t imagine her being patient with children, but it’s none of my business.

Me? I’m a psychology major. I want to be a relationship therapist. This is partly why Camden fascinates me so much. That speech he gave me—swear to God that’s the most he’s said to me in one sitting, ever—has been interesting to mentally dissect the last couple of days.

He doesn’t believe he’s worthy of love. He doesn’t do committed relationships because he’s afraid of them. Afraid of who he might turn into once he’s in one—his mother or his father. I’d assume his father, though I’m sure he has some of his mother’s tendencies.

He’s a good guy with a good heart. He’s a strong leader of his team, always there for Knox when he needs him, and he’s kind. I’ve never seen him be mean to anyone, though it’s not like I spend a lot of time with him to even know.

But I have to trust my brother’s opinion of him. Knox wouldn’t be friends with an asshole—and Cam is Knox’s absolute best friend. They’re close. They live together. There’s a reason for that.

And that reason is good enough for me to pursue Cam, despite all of his protests. I know we would be good together. I wish he could see it.

“I just don’t feel like drowning all of my woes in alcohol,” I finally answer truthfully.

Cheyenne grabs the shot they got for me and throws it back, gasping once it’s down. “Well, I do. Guess you’ll be stuck with our drunk asses tonight.”

Rita high fives her, the both of them laughing, and I remind myself there is no way in hell I’m going to allow myself to be stuck with them tonight. The moment I spot Cam walk in, I’m going to approach him. Even if he doesn’t show up, I’m hoping Knox will be here. At the very least, I can spend a little time with my brother before I bail, disappointed.

I tune my roommates out as they gossip about the cute guys at the bar, my gaze constantly searching for the only one I want to see. Every time the door swings open, hope rises within me, crashing down when I realize it’s not Cam.

The hours tick by. It’s past ten-thirty when I give up and slide off the barstool, fighting the sadness that wants to wrap around me.

“I’m leaving,” I announce.

Rita and Cheyenne give me matching odd looks before Rita speaks for the both of them. “Why? It’s not even eleven.”

“Close enough. I’m tired.” And bored. But I don’t say that. “I’ll see you guys later.”

I use the bathroom real quick before I leave, then push my way through the thick crowd of people in the bar, nearly jumping out of my skin when strong fingers curl around the crook of my elbow, stopping me.

Turning, I find Cam standing there, wearing a serious expression on his handsome face, and I nearly collapse in relief at seeing him. The only reason I remain standing, I swear, is because of the grip he has on me.

“Where you off to?” he asks, perfectly normal. Perfectly friendly. Like he didn’t just blow up on me only a few days ago and basically rejected me to my face.

He has no idea that I’m far more determined than he realizes. I’m my father’s daughter, after all. Knox and I are made of the same stuff. Ruby is exactly like us too. None of us are quitters.

Not even close.

“Home,” I say with a sigh, trying to play it cool, despite the way he’s currently gripping me sends shivers up and down my arm, his fingers burning into my skin. “I’ve already been here for hours.”

“I just got here.” He tugs me a little closer when a group of girls try to move past us, my body gently colliding with his. Goose bumps erupt all over my body. “How are you getting home?”

“I’m taking an Uber. Or Lyft.” I hold up my phone.

He slowly shakes his head. “No way. I’ll take you home.”

My skin prickles with awareness. He still hasn’t let me go. But I pull out of his grip anyway, not wanting to look like a pathetic loser, who longs for the elusive, unattainable man to keep touching her. Which is actually how I feel, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“It’s okay. I don’t want to bother you.” I offer him a casual wave and with a closed-mouth smile, I leave him where he stands.

On purpose.

I make my way to the door, and I swear I can feel Cam’s heavy gaze following my every step. When I finally dare to glance over my shoulder, I find he’s already watching me.

The moment our eyes connect, he launches into action, heading toward me, while ignoring everyone who tries to speak to him as he passes. I face forward, rushing toward the door, my heart beating a million miles a minute, and the moment I reach out to push the door to the bar open, a giant hand slams on the glass, stopping me.

Slowly, I turn to face him, my body brushing against his, since he’s standing so close. I tip my head back to find him glowering at me, confusion swirling in his gaze.

This man. Can’t he see?

“You don’t want to bother me?” His voice is pained. I almost want to laugh at how tortured he sounds. “You’ve been bothering me all damn week.”

I huff out a breath. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“Don’t leave yet.” His hand drops from the door to settle on my waist. All of the air stalls in my throat, making it suddenly hard to breathe. “Stay with me.”

Those three words are like magic, weaving their way into my skin. My heart. The solemn truth I hear behind the request. I’m probably overreacting, but it feels like he actually wants me to stay.

With him.

“Here at the bar?” I ask because I don’t know what else to say.

He glances around. “There are a few tables in the back. We can sit there.”

“And do what?”

“I don’t know…talk?” His hand drops from my waist and I can breathe again. “I feel bad.”

“About what?” Oh shit. He better not feel…sympathy toward me. I don’t want his pity.

A frustrated sound leaves him and he grabs my hand, pulling me through the crowd as he leads me to the back of the building. “I’ll tell you when we sit.”

I let him drag me through the bar, smiling at a few people I pass by, confused why so many of them are frowning, most of them female. It dawns on me quickly that they look that way because they’re probably jealous. Every girl on this campus seems to want a chance at Camden Fields, star quarterback.

Including me.

I have a moment of sudden crisis, my self-confidence crumbling the deeper we get into the bar, all of those negative thoughts filling my head, though I’m not exactly sure why.

Maybe I’m only fooling myself. There is no real reason Cam would be interested in me. People might think I have an advantage because I’m his best friend’s little sister, but Cam most likely views me as the girl with the stupid crush on him. He’s only nice to me because I amuse him. I’m that annoying little sister who ogled him like some sort of weird perv that one summer he came to our house, and now he puts up with me merely because Knox told him to.

And that is the absolute worst.

Once we’re seated at a tiny table in the darkest corner of the bar, my knees knocking into his since we’re sitting so close, I’m on the verge of tears.

He is going to let me down easy in a very public setting, which is smart on his part.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” The concerned look on his face is undeniable, and I’m sure he’s feeling that way only because he knows Knox will kick his ass if he hurts me in any sort of way.

“Nothing.” I shake my head, sniffing loudly. Suck it up, buttercup. I used to say that to Ruby, right before she fell apart for no good reason, which was often back in the day.

I need to take my own advice.

“What did you want to talk about?” I ask, once I’m a little more composed.

He scratches at the back of his neck, seemingly uncomfortable before he finally blurts, “I’m sorry I unloaded on you.”

I blink at him, shocked he’d apologize.

“A couple of days ago,” he adds, like I might’ve forgotten.

“Oh, I remember when it happened.”

“Yeah.” He rests his arms on the tiny table, his hands close enough to touch me. He stares at them, as if he doesn’t want to meet my gaze. “I kind of lost it.”

“It’s okay,” I say gently, reaching out to pat his hand with mine. I jerk my fingers back the moment I make contact with his warm skin. “We all have our moments.”

“I never have a moment. I’m always chill.”

“Chill? I don’t know if that’s the word I would use to describe you.”

“How would you describe me, then?” He lifts his head, fixing his gaze on mine.

“Intense? Quiet? High strung?” I threw the last one out there just to bug him.

It works. His face turns a little redder and he shakes his head. “I disagree.”

“But we both agree that you lost your cool a couple of days ago.”

A long, drawn-out exhale leaves him and he stares at the table once more. “Yeah, I definitely did. And like I just said, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for apologizing.”

He glances up. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

“It’s never a hardship,” I murmur, settling my hands on the edge of the table, needing to grip something.

“You always make me feel like I want to spill my guts,” he admits.

“I do?” Okay, that’s surprising.

He nods. “Yeah. Even when I’m mad at you, I want to tell you everything.”

His words echo in my head in time with the steady beat of my heart. “Everything?”

His smile is faint. “I shouldn’t want to.”

“You get mad at me?” What does he even mean by that?

“More like I’m frustrated with myself because of you,” he explains.

“Here we go again.” I roll my eyes, though I’m secretly thrilled.

At least I’m getting a reaction out of him.

“You know what I’m saying. I’m drawn to you despite everything. Despite my worry and my feelings of disloyalty to my best friend. I’m breaking a promise to Knox, you know. Yet here I am, chasing you down in front of everyone at Logan’s. Word will get back to your brother and he’ll ask me about it. He’ll probably be pissed about it too.”

“Oh, come on. He doesn’t care that much.”

“He does,” Cam says without hesitation. “You’re not worried about him because he’s your brother. You’ve dealt with him your entire life—”

“Look,” I interrupt him, “we’ve been going round and round like this for weeks. I’m over it. I don’t want to get strung along, Cam. I meant what I said a few days ago. You’re worthy of so much more than you believe, if you just give yourself a chance. It doesn’t have to be like this. Knox won’t kick your ass for having sexual relations with me.”

The expression of pure misery that crosses his face is undeniable. “Come on, B. Sexual relations? Why you gotta phrase it like that?”

“You know what I mean.” I roll my eyes, trying to play this off, feeling a little embarrassed. “The two of us together. Having sex or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” He lifts his brows.

“You know.” I wave a hand.

“No, I don’t. Please explain.”

He’s enjoying torturing me. The jerk.

“Look, my sexual experiences so far?” He nods, encouraging me, and I can’t believe I’m even admitting any of this. “They haven’t been that exciting.”

“Why not?”

“They only ever covered the basics.” I send him a meaningful look. “I think I need a little excitement in my life.”

“And you believe I can do that for you?”

He swallows hard. I see the movement of his Adam’s apple, and because I’m a sadistic bitch, I decide to take this conversation a step further. “I know you can.”

His smile is small yet arrogant. Like he knows he can rock my world. “I know a few tricks.”

“I’m sure you do,” I murmur. “Maybe you could show me?”

Yikes. Where did that question just come from?

“You’re a bad girl tonight, B,” he gently chastises, shaking his head.

“You’re bad all the time,” I return. “And you flirt with me constantly.”

“I do?” He rests a hand against his chest, like he’s shocked. “More like you flirt with me.”

“We flirt with each other,” I amend. “Though it’s been…worse lately.”

“What do you mean?”

Oh, he sounds so curious. This is perfect. “Ever since the—hair pulling conversation, I can’t stop thinking about you…pulling my hair.”

“Huh.” His pupils get bigger, swear to God. “When you imagine it, what are we doing when I’m pulling your hair?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” My smile is hopefully mysterious, and his lips part, like he’s ready to launch into about a thousand questions.

A waitress appears at our table, exasperated and sweaty around her hairline. “You guys want anything?”

“Just water, please,” I tell her.

“Same,” Cam adds. “And I’ll give you a tip. Don’t worry.”

She smiles in relief. “Thanks. I’ve been hustling my ass around here all night.”

The moment the waitress is gone, Cam is shifting in his chair, looming nearer. His hands stretch out toward me, getting closer and closer to mine, and I’m tempted to move them into my lap.

But I don’t.

“That was nice of you,” I say when he still hasn’t spoken. “Offering her a tip on our free order.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He shrugs.

“Why aren’t you drinking tonight?”

“Why aren’t you?”

My smile is serene. “I asked first.”

“I wanted to be sober.”

“Why?”

“Because here I am, talking to you. And I didn’t want to make an ass of myself when I apologized.”

“You didn’t make an ass of yourself,” I reassure him.

“Gee, thanks.” He smiles, and the sight of it goes right to that needy spot between my thighs, leaving me throbbing.

“You also changed the direction of our conversation.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t want to talk about the two of us having sex.”

He leans back in his seat, his arms sliding off the table. I regret not touching him, but I’m also enjoying the view of him sitting with his legs sprawled, his hands resting on the inside of his knees. He’s wearing black joggers and a Golden Eagles T-shirt and he’s never looked better. “Jesus, Blair.”

“What?” I put on my most innocent face. “What’s wrong?”

Cam glances around, like he suspects someone is listening in on our conversation. News flash—no one is. “You can’t just drop a we’re having sex bomb like that.”

“That’s not what I said, and why not? I think about it.” I prop my elbow on the table, resting my chin on top of my curled fist. “I think about it all the time.”

His lips part, but he doesn’t say anything.

“And I think we’d be really good together. I get this feeling I’d be up to…anything you’d ask me to do.”

He is literally starting to sweat. “Anything?” he practically chokes out.

“Anything,” I reassure him with far more confidence than I feel.