Playing to Win (The Players)

For the next two longest weeks of my goddamned life, I do my best to avoid Ruby Maguire as much as possible. I’m not a rude asshole toward her or anything like that, but I keep my distance. Try to remain respectful. We play our first home game Saturday afternoon and crush our opponents. It was fucking awesome. I went out later that night and we celebrated at Logan’s like we usually do and I had a great time with my teammates. My friends. We shut that shit down and ended up back at someone’s apartment, where I got even more shitfaced and turned down every single girl who approached me.

Literally every one of them.

The guys asked me if I was sick. Derek put his hand to my forehead and everything, the asshole. I’m not sick. Unless what I’m feeling for Ruby is some sort of disease.

Then I’m ill as fuck.

Same thing, different day, the following week. I’m busy with school and practice and strength training and keeping my elbow on ice because it’s been hurting like a bitch lately. Play the game on Saturday—gain another win—celebrate at Logan’s again. Turn down girls again.

It’s been over two weeks since I messed around with Ruby and I haven’t touched another girl. Thought about another girl. All I can think about is her. Her softly panting breaths in my ear. The sounds she makes when she’s coming. The flush that coats her skin when she’s aroused. The scent of her pussy. How wet she gets. How delicious she tastes.

Everywhere.

I’m a man obsessed and I see her almost every single day.

Every. Single. Day.

It’s wearing on me. I’ve jacked off so much I’m pretty sure I have calluses on my palm. Yet it doesn’t ease the incessant need building within me. The need for more Ruby.

Any way I can get her.

She’s avoiding me too. I can tell. She keeps her distance but isn’t cold or unfriendly. Nah, that’s what makes it worse. She flashes these pretty little smiles my way every time our gazes connect, which twists my gut into knots. The need to talk to her is strong. The urge to touch her is even stronger.

But I keep my distance because I am a man of my word and I’m not about to get her into trouble. Or get myself into trouble. Just having her nearby while I practice is good enough. Catching her gaze track my every move during practice?

Even better.

It’s a Thursday night and I’m at a bar that’s not Logan’s because I’m looking for a change of scenery. I came with Javier and Evan because we’ve grown closer and I like the way they’re not constantly looking for a woman to fuck. Javier is happily taken and completely in love with his girlfriend. Evan isn’t a complete manwhore, looking to get laid all the time, so I appreciate that about him. And then there’s me.

Holding out for a woman I technically can’t have until the end of the season.

I’m laying off the drinking too. Trying to keep a clear head and healthy body and my coaches, trainer and nutritionist are all praising me for staying on track. They have no clue I’ve been working out so much lately because I’m trying to work off all of the sexual frustration I’ve been dealing with.

It’s a lot.

We’re at a newer place downtown called Dirty Habit and it’s really cool. Lots of exposed brick and mood lighting. Plenty of seating and a giant bar counter with a variety of beers on tap. I’m only sipping on one beer because I’m the designated driver tonight and not in the mood to get drunk.

The place isn’t busy like Logan’s, but there’s a steady stream of people and it fills up quickly. To the point that I’m glad we got here when we did and nabbed a table before they all filled up.

Women drift over to our table and we chat them up. Always polite, though Javier rarely looks up from his phone when they’re talking to us. Almost like he’s afraid of them. I’m not interested in any of them, but I know I have to at least be polite. Gotta perform for the fans—and the fangirls.

“What’s your deal?” I ask Javier after yet another group of women stop by our table and he barely looks at them.

He sets his phone on the table, sending us a look that’s hard to read. “Just wait until you’re in a serious relationship. You won’t want to look at a single female who comes near you.”

“And why not? Shouldn’t your girlfriend feel confident and trust you completely?”

“My girl is the jealous type.” He shrugs. “I can’t even be friends with a woman. She gets all freaked out, especially since we’re in a long-distance relationship.”

“I guess I can see that,” I say, thinking of Ruby. As usual.

Is she the jealous type? Would she be pissed if I talked to women all the time? I’m doing it right now and not a single one of them piques my interest. There was a blonde who came to our table earlier. She was cute and friendly and she had a great body. I notice these things, can appreciate these things, but am I interested in her?

No. I’m not. I’m not even with Ruby, yet she’s all I can think about.

Grabbing my beer, I drain the last of the alcohol, setting it down extra hard, frustration rippling through me. Javier and Evan are involved in their own conversation and I scowl at the crowd filling the bar, hating how grumpy I feel.

I think I need to get laid. At the very least, kiss a pretty woman.

But there’s only one woman I want to kiss.

“Maybe I should order another beer,” I announce, knowing without a doubt that it’s a terrible idea.

“I thought you were our DD,” Evan says.

“Oh, I am.” I push my empty beer away from me, tipping it over and causing it to roll across the table. Javier hops up from his chair and grabs it before it falls to the floor, where it most likely would’ve shattered. “Thanks, man.”

“You’re moody lately,” Evan says, nudging me in the ribs. “What’s your problem?”

Women. A woman. A beautiful blonde woman with green eyes and the best smile you’ve ever seen. Who gasps and moans whenever I touch her. Who’s got the prettiest, tastiest pussy out of any of the women at this place. A pussy I haven’t even fully fucked yet, and here I am, thinking about it.

Fantasizing about it.

Wanting it.

Fuck, I want her.

As if I conjured her up in my own mind, she magically appears in this bar. What are the odds? I shake my head and close my eyes for a moment, telling myself I’m just seeing things, but when I open my eyes again, there she still is, standing in front of the entrance, her roommate Natalie right by her side and a few other unfamiliar women standing behind them.

Huh.

I grab the empty beer bottle that Javier deposited in front of me once more and tip it to my lips, disappointed it’s empty. “I definitely need another beer. Think I’ll go get one.”

Before either of them can get a full sentence out, I’m out of my chair and headed toward the crowded bar, my gaze scanning the room since I lost sight of Ruby’s blonde hair. I edge my way through the crowd and lean against the counter, waiting for the bartender to acknowledge me, still on the lookout for my newfound favorite thing.

Favorite person, not thing.

Ruby.

“Yo, Ace Townsend,” the bartender greets me. “How are you, man? Welcome to Dirty Habits.”

“Thank you.” I hold out my hand to the guy who’s about my age, maybe a little older, and he gives me a fist bump. “This place is pretty cool.”

“Yeah? Thanks. My dad owns it.” He props his forearm on the bar, smiling at me. “Played a great game last weekend.”

“Thank you.”

“Worried about this Saturday?” The bartender’s eyebrows shoot up.

We’re playing against one of our biggest rivals, and it’s going to be a tough one. “Can’t get too worked up over it.”

“You’ve got this in the bag.” He pushes away from the counter, pointing his fingers at me. “What can I get you?”

I order another beer, which he insists is on the house, so I take it, gripping the bottle in my hand as I turn to glance around the room, searching for Ruby.

Still can’t find her.

I keep walking, my stride slow as I smile and nod at people I pass by. A group of women stop me, all of them surrounding me with flirtatious smiles and exaggerated giggles, some of them bold enough to touch me.

“You look so good out on the field, Ace!” one of them squeals, her hand landing on my forearm and giving it a squeeze.

“Hey thanks.” I smile at her and take a sip from my beer.

She flutters her lashes at me. They’re long and thick and definitely fake, and I wonder how she can keep her eyelids open. “I’m coming to this Saturday’s game too.”

“Can’t wait to see you there.” I lift my beer toward her, hating that I just said that. I don’t mean a word of it and I probably got her hopes up.

Her eyes flash. They’re dark brown and currently gobbling me up. “I’ll make a sign for you.”

“Okay.” I don’t know how to respond to that.

She scoots closer, the overwhelming scent of her perfume washing over me, making me want to sneeze. “I think you’re the hottest guy out on that field.”

My chuckle is nervous, when normally this sort of thing doesn’t bother me. “Oh yeah?”

“Definitely.” She nods, her hand back on my arm. “Want to go somewhere more private?”

“Right now?”

Her smile is knowing. “Yes, of course, right now.”

“Let’s ease up a little bit there, sweetheart. Get to know each other better first.”

The disappointment on her face is obvious. “Are you turning me down?”

“Are you trying to hit on me?” I take another sip of my beer. “Let me at least finish my drink.”

Her smile is back, bigger this time. “And then you’ll leave with me?”

I don’t plan on going anywhere with this chick. I need to be honest with her.

“You know what?” When she nods eagerly, I continue, “Probably not.”

Her face falls. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” I take another swig. A bigger one this time. “Oh.”

She screws her face up, her lips puckered into an unattractive pout. “You’re kind of a dick.”

“And you’re kind of pushy.” I tip my bottle toward her. “Better luck next time.”

“Men,” she practically huffs out before she turns on her heel and stalks away.

I watch her leave, faintly amused, contemplating if I should drain my beer and grab another one when I catch a familiar scent. Hear a familiar voice.

“Pissed off another one, huh, Townsend?”

The relief at hearing Ruby’s teasing makes my knees fucking wobble, which never happens. I glance to my right to find her standing there, looking hot as fuck because it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing or how much makeup she has on her face or whether her hair is curled or not.

In my eyes, Ruby is hot as fuck no matter what.

“She was—a lot,” I tell Ruby, staring into her green eyes a little too long.

Amusement dances in her gaze. “Came on to you too strong?”

“Yeah.” I can’t stop staring at her. She’s so fucking pretty. The shirt she’s wearing is tight and cropped, showing off that toned stomach of hers, and she’s got on a pair of jeans that are kind of baggy, but I know how slender those legs are. The gentle flare of her hips. The dip of her waist. The curve of her perfect ass.

Damn it, I’ve got it so bad for this woman. Does she even know? Understand the hold she has on me?

“You like to chase?” she asks, her sweet voice pulling me from my thoughts.

Again, I decide to be honest.

“I like blondes—specifically one.” I shift closer to her, dipping my head so my mouth is at her ear. “With a sweet pussy and my cum dripping all over her tits.”

Her eyes go wide when I pull away and I wonder if I took it too far. She blinks at me, quiet for way too long, and I study her, my gut starting to churn.

Then she reaches out and rests her hand on my arm, just like the pushy girl did only a few minutes before. The moment her fingers touch my skin, it’s like an electric current is running through my veins and straight to my dick, making it stand at attention.

“Meet me in the women’s bathroom in five minutes,” she murmurs, before she turns.

And walks away.