Playing Hard to Get (The Players)

I PROBABLY SHOULDN’T KISS her while we’re standing out in front of Logan’s, waiting for an Uber, but fuck it.

She’s so pretty. And I like it when she laughs. The sound, how her whole face lights up and her eyes sparkle. When I’m with her, I feel pretty fucking great. Like nothing can get me down. All I want to do is make her smile.

Scratch that. All I currently want to do is pull her in close to me, feel her wrap her arms around my neck and hold her. That’s what I want.

Glancing down, I check out the outfit she’s wearing yet again. The deep V of her neckline that shows off the tops of her tits. The cropped white shirt that flashes a glimpse of her flat stomach every once in a while. It’s like she’s all covered up yet also exposed and it’s hot.

She’s hot.

And interesting. I want to know more. I want to learn about her. What she likes and hates. Her favorite colors and movies and food. What she looks like in the morning when she first wakes up.

That’s what I want to know most of all.

I touch her face and cup her cheek as I drink from her lips. It’s a simple kiss. No tongue, just our mouths connecting, pulling away, reconnecting. There’s something hot about that. The restraint we’re showing. The control. I’m pent-up with need, ready to unleash it all over her, and she acts like it’s just another night where she kisses some guy in front of a bar while waiting for a car to come pick them up.

I know that’s not the case. Well, I hope it’s not…

She pulls away first, glancing toward the street. “What kind of car is picking us up?’

“A white Camry.” I lean in, ready to press my lips to hers again, when she stops me, resting her hand on my chest.

“It’s here.”

Reluctantly, I pull away from her and approach the car. The passenger side window rolls down, revealing an older woman, who’s eyeing me up and down. “Who are you here for?”

“Knox?” When I nod, she asks, “Are you that football player, kid?”

“Yeah.” This isn’t the first time I’ve been recognized by someone off campus, and it’s always kind of wild.

She grins. “I loved your daddy back in the day. Hop on in.”

What the hell? That’s a new one.

I open the back door and let Joanna slide in first before I get in after her. The moment I slam the door, the driver is pulling away from the curb, her tires squealing. Joanna falls back against me with a soft giggle and I right her in her seat.

“Better buckle up,” I murmur.

She grabs her seat belt, her gaze finding mine when she pulls it across the front of her. I take over, clicking the belt into place, my hand brushing her hip. Lingering there. Our gazes never straying.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“You ready for this weekend’s game?” the driver calls from the front seat.

Irritation flits through my blood as I glance in her direction. While I appreciate the woman’s enthusiasm, she interrupted the moment Joanna and I were sharing. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good to hear.” Her gaze finds mine in the rearview mirror. “Get your seat belt on, son. We need to protect you at all costs.”

I’m rolling my eyes as I pull the seat belt over me, Joanna stifling laughter behind her hand. When I glance over at her, her eyes dance with amusement, and I’m about to ask her if she gets off on my pain when the driver continues talking.

And keeps talking throughout the rest of the ride. I was hoping to kiss Joanna all the way home, but instead, I’m talking stats, both ours and other teams’, our chances for a championship and my NFL possibilities.

“If you’re anything like your daddy, you’ve got a sure shot,” the woman reassures me as she pulls into the apartment parking lot, stopping directly in front of my building. Like she’s been here before. Is she some kind of stalker?

Doubtful. She’s following her directions via Maps.

“Well, that was interesting,” Joanna says as we stand on the sidewalk side by side, watching the Camry leave.

“Sorry about that.” I scratch the back of my head. Some girls get off on the so-called fame I have. I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface popularity-wise, but whatever. Other girls don’t like all the attention I get, but I always tell them I can’t help it. It’s not like I ask for it.

Like tonight. I really hope Joanna didn’t mind. She seems like the type who doesn’t give a damn who I am or what I do, so she’d probably find the constant conversation about, well, me, exhausting.

I get it. Sometimes I find it exhausting too. Like tonight.

“It’s okay. I actually learned something about you.” She’s still watching the parking lot, the little red lights on the back of the Camry getting dimmer and dimmer, until they’re flat out gone.

“You did?” I glance down at her.

She looks up at me. “I found out all your stats, your chances to play in the championship game, and your NFL potential, all from a ten-minute conversation.”

“She knew a lot about me.”

“It was a little frightening,” Joanna agrees.

I smile at her. She smiles in return.

“Want to go up to my place?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Taking her hand, I lead her up the stairs, pulling out my keys with my free hand. Within a minute, we’re inside my dark apartment and I sniff the air, grateful it doesn’t smell like a sweaty pit tinged with a hint of pepperoni.

Our usual apartment scent, if I’m being completely real.

“This is nice.” I turn on a lamp as she walks to the center of the living room, turning in a slow circle.

There’s nothing “nice” about our apartment. It suits our needs, it’s a roof over our heads. We have a giant leather couch that’s worn and even torn in a few spots. A seventy-five-inch TV hangs on the wall, a variety of game consoles sitting on a stand below it. A tangle of remotes and cords are scattered across the surface.

We’re not neat freaks like I’m pretty sure Joanna is. In fact, we’re kind of slobby, and I don’t think we’ve dusted once since we moved into this place. Which means there’s probably a thick coat covering all of our gaming equipment, and that can’t be good for the consoles.

Maybe we should hire a maid. One who doesn’t mind cleaning up after sloppy college students. I bet Cam would split the cost.

“It’s okay,” I finally say to Joanna when she’s facing me once more. “We’re close to the stadium.”

“I’m sure you like that.”

“We do. Cam and I were dorm roommates our first year here. We realized fairly quick that we can tolerate each other. Now here we are, still living together.” I spread my arms out wide for a brief moment before letting them drop to my sides.

“Same with me and Natalie. At first, I didn’t know what to think of her. She never stopped talking, had an endless rotation of people coming in and out of our dorm room, and it kind of drove me nuts.” Her expression shifts, her gaze growing distant. “I was also dealing with a long-distance boyfriend, and that was tough. I missed him.”

I hate hearing it. I don’t want her to talk about it. Talk about him.

“Once I got over missing Bryan and started to get to know people on campus, it got easier. A lot of that is thanks to Nat.” Her smile is small, her gaze not so distant any longer. “She’s a good friend.”

“She seems cool,” I agree.

“Derek isn’t going to break her heart, is he?”

“Probably.” I can’t lie. Not to this girl. “He’s not what I would call…monogamous.”

A sigh leaves her. “I know you already said that, and I said Nat was the same, but I don’t know. I get the sense that she really likes him.”

“I’m not considered monogamous either, you know,” I add, wanting to put it out there.

This is new territory for me, having a woman stay on my mind past forty-eight hours.

“I’ve heard.” Her tone is wry, and I know she knows, but still.

May as well lay it all out there. Somewhat.

“I’ve never dated anyone steadily in college.” I can’t even say I’ve taken a woman out on an actual date. I usually meet them after a game. At a party. At a bar. We get to talking, there’s heavy flirting, followed by heavy petting, and next thing I know, we’re off in some dark corner or bedroom or bathroom, hooking up.

I’m not necessarily proud of it, but what I was supposed to do? Turn them all away? You feel like a fucking superstar, having women throw themselves at you. Any average, horny guy in his late teens is going to take his opportunities when and where he can get them. And they just kept coming.

Over and over.

“I have, and it sucks.” Joanna’s voice is sweet, but her words not so much. “I’m not looking for anything serious, Knox.”

“You’re not?” She seems like such a committed relationship type of woman.

She slowly shakes her head. “I already tried, and it didn’t work. For once in my life, I want to experience something totally casual. Something hot and filthy and with no strings attached.”

I’m nodding. Yeah, I’m down.

Wait a second.

Did she just say hot and filthy?

I’ll show her hot and filthy.

I move fast, standing directly in front of her, my hands on her waist as I slowly back her up until her butt hits the wall. “No strings attached, huh?”

She tilts her head back, her lids heavy as she watches me. “That would be the one thing you pick up on.”

“It is. I just didn’t want to scare you when I promised I could make everything hot.” I kiss her, my tongue doing a quick search of her mouth before I pull away. “And filthy.”

Her eyes flare with heat. That was exactly what she wanted to hear. It’s what I want. What she wants too.

So I’m going to give it to her. Despite my vow of celibacy or whatever the fuck, it’ll be worth a thousand bucks to get with Joanna.

Hell, it will be worth more. Much more.

Sliding my hands down over her perfect ass, I tug, indicating I want to lift her up, and she goes willingly, her legs wrapping around my hips. Clutching her ass, I pull her against me, my mouth finding hers, a satisfied hum sounding low in my throat when her tongue darts out to lick at mine.

Fuck, she tastes good. Sweet. I lightly touch her throat, pressing my fingers against the rapid pulse at the base of her neck, heat rippling through my blood when I realize I’m the one who’s doing that to her.

I’m the one who’s making her heart race.

She kisses me with a desperation that matches mine, hungry and all-consuming, her tongue gliding against mine. I hear a groan, and I realize it’s coming from me.

Breaking the kiss, I slide my fingers around her nape, tilting her head back, so I can rain kisses there. She makes a strangled sound, her eyes tightly closed when I nip at her ear, then soothe the bite with my tongue.

“Knox.” My name is a desperate plea on her lips, her fingers sliding into my hair, tugging tightly, making me wince. Doesn’t stop me from kissing her neck though. I nibble and lick, my need growing for her by the second. I’ve got her pinned against the wall with my body, which leaves my hands free, so I take advantage, slipping my other hand beneath her cropped shirt, skimming my fingers across the flat expanse of her stomach.

We go at it like this for I don’t know how long, me keeping her against the wall, my hands wandering, my mouth locked with hers. I’ve never been one to focus so heavily on kissing. I always believed it just led to the good stuff. Was a precursor, something that needed to be done before the next set of events. And then the next…

But there’s something to be said for kissing a beautiful woman when you have her pinned against the wall on a Tuesday night.