Campus Player

by Jennifer Sucevic

  Although that statement is highly debatable. It’s unlikely that my friend wants any assistance from the likes of me.

  “I thought we were leaving,” she whines, unwilling to throw in the towel just yet.

  “Maybe another time.”

  Or...more like never.

  My size and notoriety on campus make shoving my way through the crowd unnecessary. If you’re not looking to get mowed over, move your ass out of the way. Within thirty seconds, I’ve cut a direct path to Demi. I wrap my fingers around her bicep, effectively halting her escape.

  “Hey.” I spin her around until she has no choice but to meet my searching gaze. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” She shakes her head, but the fib is there, lurking in her dark depths.

  “Why are you lying?” I drag her closer. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I’m just tired.” Demi jerks her arm, attempting to break free from the hold I have on her. “I want to go home.”

  I study her tightened features for the truth. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  A crack of anger flashes across her face. “I don’t care what you believe.” For a second time, she tries to wrench her arm free, but I refuse to let her get away that easily. I don’t like the pain reverberating in her eyes, and I want to know who put it there. “Let me go!”

  “Demi!”

  Our heads swivel as Justin crashes onto the scene, interrupting our conversation. Any struggle Demi had been putting up ceases as every muscle in her body goes rigid.

  “I’m sorry,” he blurts, gaze focused solely on her.

  It shouldn’t come as any surprise that I’m not much of a Justin fan. Even before they got together, I never had much for the guy. He always struck me as a conceited tool. And I’ve become even less enamored since they’ve been seeing each other. He’s nowhere near good enough for her. I was hoping Coach would put the kibosh on their relationship the other night, but that didn’t happen.

  My eyes narrow as I pull Demi closer. “What exactly are you apologizing for?”

  Justin tears his gaze from her long enough to shoot me a glare. Heat flags his cheeks. “That’s none of your damn business.” He waggles a finger between himself and the girl pressed against me. “This is between the two of us.” He shifts from one foot to the other before dropping his voice. “Please, Demi, can we go somewhere and talk in private?”

  A gurgle of disbelief bubbles up from her throat. “You didn’t seem too interested in privacy a couple of minutes ago.”

  What the hell does that mean?

  Justin grits his teeth as the flush staining his cheeks creeps further down his neck. “Would you hear me out?”

  When she presses herself against me, I realize that whatever she’s upset about has everything to do with him. That’s all the incentive I need to snake my arm around her shoulders and tuck her carefully against my body.

  Justin plows a hand through his hair as frustration flashes across his face. His voice drops, taking on a pleading note. “I made a mistake, all right? Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

  Demi’s brows skyrocket across her forehead. “Are you being serious?” Before he can answer, she says, “Clearly you don’t understand that sticking your dick in another chick’s mouth is a huge deal. And for that girl to be one of my teammates makes the situation even more unforgivable.”

  “You cheated on her?” Why the hell would Justin do that? Doesn’t he realize how fucking special this girl is? Any guy lucky enough to have Demi should be worshipping the very ground she walks on. I knew this guy was a douche but somehow, he’s managed to jackhammer to an all new low.

  A potent mixture of fury and irritation swirl through Justin’s eyes as his gaze swings to me. “Fuck off, Michaels,” he growls. “This doesn’t involve you. Why don’t you take a hike?”

  Ha! He’s legitimately insane if he thinks for one damn moment I’m going to walk away and leave Demi alone with him. All he’s done is hurt her, and it will be over my dead carcass that he inflicts anymore damage.

  “I’m not going anywhere, so get used to it.”

  “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this, is it?” Demi cuts in, drawing Justin’s attention to her.

  “What?” His voice falters as surprise flickers in his eyes.

  She levels a hard look at him and repeats, “This isn’t the first time you’ve cheated on me.”

  When a bead of perspiration breaks out across his brow, and his gaze falters, I realize Demi is right. He’s been hooking up with other girls the entire time they’ve been together.

  Goddamn it!

  It takes everything I have inside not to punch that stupid motherfucker in the piehole.

  “Well?” There’s a pause before she snaps, “I’m waiting for an answer!”

  When it becomes apparent that Demi won’t drop the subject, he clears his throat. “Maybe I’ve gotten a few BJ’s here and there, but that’s it! I wanted to take things slow with you.”

  She scrunches her face and straightens to her full height like someone rammed a two-by-four up her ass. “Wait a minute, are you really trying to,” one hand slaps her chest, “blame me for this?”

  He blinks a few times before muttering, “No, I’m saying that we weren’t totally serious, and I didn’t want to rush you. I thought you would appreciate me being respectful.”

  “So...I was supposed to appreciate you getting blow jobs from other girls?” She doesn’t wait for him to respond. “You know what I would have appreciated even more? If you would have kept your dick in your pants.”

  “That’s not what I meant! You’re taking everything out of context and twisting it to make me the bad guy in this scenario.”

  “Newsflash, asshole—you are the bad guy! As for taking everything out of,” she uses her fingers to make air quotes, “context. I don’t think so. You never asked if I wanted to take things slow. You just assumed. Why would any girl want the guy she’s seeing to hookup with other people behind her back?” She shakes her head as another realization dawns. “Even after we got serious, you would have continued to screw around on me.” When he opens his mouth to argue, she raises a hand. “I’m done with this conversation and more importantly, I’m done with you!”

  “What?” His voice rises and several people in the nearby vicinity turn in his direction. “Wait!”

  When he steps closer, attempting to reach for Demi, I shove him back a couple of steps. It takes everything I have inside not to get more physical. “Demi already told you that she’s not interested. Take the hint, buddy, and leave her alone.”

  “Give me a damn break, Michaels,” Justin snarls. “Like you’re not getting your dick wet every damn night of the week?” He jerks his arm to encompass the party. “You’ve probably nailed every ass in the place. Shut the fuck up and stay out of my business!”

  Revulsion flashes across Demi’s face as she shoves out of my arms. “Maybe you two should become friends. It seems like you have a lot in common.”

  With that last parting shot, she pushes her way through the crowd.

  Once Demi is out of earshot, Justin growls, “The only thing we have in common is that we both want to get in her pants.” He smirks. “Although, I’m sure all you’d have to do is talk to Coach Richards, he’d probably hand his daughter right over. I’ve heard that’s one of the perks to being a baller around here.”

  The fuck he said!

  Rage clouds my better judgement. I yank my arm back and slam it into the asshole’s face before anything else can come out of his stupid piehole. With any luck, that’ll shut him up.

  He squeals like a little pig as his hands fly to his nose.

  “You had the one girl worth having on campus, and you fucked it up because you couldn’t keep your pecker in your pants.” I step closer, getting in his face. “You and I are nothing alike.”

  When Justin fails to respond, I swing away, striding after the only girl I’ve ever cared about. The very same one who want
s nothing to do with me.

  10

  Demi

  I’m still fuming as I stride down the sidewalk. It seems unimaginable that Justin would attempt to pin the blame for his cheating on me.

  On me!

  As if I had anything to do with him whipping out his dick and stuffing it in someone else’s mouth.

  Nope. Don’t think so.

  The temperature might have dipped into the low seventies, but it does nothing to cool my temper. It’s as if the conversation is playing on a constant loop in my head, and I can’t make it stop.

  The nerve of that guy!

  Instead of apologizing—not that it would have done any good—he had actually tried to justify his cheating! I’ve never met two people who deserve one another more. Justin and Annica are a match made in hell.

  It’s the heavy fall of footsteps from behind that snap me out of my thoughts. I swear to God, if it’s Justin, I will totally lose my shit. I can’t deal with anymore of his asinine behavior. Had I been smart, I would have pulled the plug on our relationship on the way home from dinner Wednesday night. Instead, I waited.

  With my hands clenched, I swivel around. I’m not normally a violent person, but tonight, I’ve been pushed past my limit. Except it’s not Justin. My gaze collides with concerned ocean-colored eyes. A soft puff of air escapes from my lips as my muscles loosen.

  Rowan.

  He was there to witness my humiliation and is the last person I want to see or talk to.

  It takes a second for him to fall in line with me. For half a block, we walk in silence before he asks, “You okay? That was brutal.”

  I keep my gaze focused straight ahead. “I’m fine.”

  Lie.

  What hurts most is that one of my own teammates despises me enough to inflict that kind of damage. I had already decided to cut Justin loose. My feelings for him weren’t that deep.

  But Annica?

  Someone who I’d taken under my wing and considered a friend? Someone who should have my back as a teammate?

  That one stings more than I’m willing to admit.

  Drunken students loiter on the lawns of houses where multiple parties are in full swing. A few people yell out Rowan’s name as we pass by.

  Instead of responding, his attention stays solely focused on me. “You sure about that?”

  My skin prickles under the intensity of his stare. Can you even imagine falling for a guy like him? He would ground your heart to a fine dust beneath his cleat.

  Instead of answering, I snap, “Why is every guy on this campus a cheating bastard?” The question escapes before I have a chance to rein it back in. I flick my gaze in his direction to get a read on his thoughts before adding begrudgingly, “At least you don’t pretend to be faithful. That would involve dating, and you don’t do that.”

  In all the years I’ve known Rowan, not once have I seen him with the same girl more than once or twice. His adoring fan base is legendary. A kernel of jealousy blooms in the pit of my belly before I quickly stomp it out.

  “Wait a minute,” he says, breaking into my thoughts, “you think I’m a womanizing asshole like Justin?”

  Ummm...yeah. That’s exactly what I think. If you asked anyone at Western who the biggest player on campus was, the answer would undoubtedly be Rowan Michaels.

  Are we really going to pretend otherwise?

  “Look, I don’t think you’re an asshole, but we’ve gone to school together for the past three years.” I shoot him a—who are you trying to kid look. “The tales of your conquests are legendary.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t put so much stock in the gossip you hear around campus, Demi.”

  Seriously?

  I’ve heard way too many stories for at least some not to be true. It’s a little hard not to believe when the information comes straight from the horse’s mouth. And by horse, I mean the girls he bangs.

  “Oh, please.” I snicker before shoving at his arm. Why is he trying to bullshit me? Just own it. “You’re like the manwhore all other manwhores look up to and want to emulate. You should wear that badge of honor with pride.”

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he growls.

  After the night I’ve had, all I want is an honest conversation and to figure out how to better discern the jerks from the guys worth getting to know. Right now, I’m at a loss.

  I’m ripped out of those thoughts when Rowan’s fingers lock around my upper arm as we grind to a halt on the sidewalk. Before I realize what’s happening, he drags me closer. I stumble a few steps before crashing into his chest. My gaze goes wide as it locks on his. A harsh look fills his eyes. One I’ve never seen before. It has all the saliva drying in my mouth and nerves skittering along my spine. When my tongue darts out to smudge my lips, his attention falls to the movement. A mixture of excitement and fear bloom inside me as a strange energy crackles in the air.

  These are exactly the type of feelings I’ve always tried to keep at bay where Rowan is concerned. It’s as if he’s trying to break through all of my defenses, and I have no idea why. Emotion crashes within, leaving me to feel off-balance and confused.

  “What are you doing?” It takes effort to force the question from stiff lips.

  Rowan’s face looms close enough for his warm breath to feather against my skin. The feel of it shouldn’t be this intoxicating. It shouldn’t make me want to suck in greedy mouthfuls of him and hold it deep inside. Anticipation coils tightly in the pit of my belly as everything inside me goes silent.

  “As much as you think you know me, you don’t know shit.”

  That’s not true!

  “We’ve known each other for seven years,” I whisper. “How can you say that?”

  “Have you ever taken the time to figure out who I am? I’m talking about the guy buried beneath all the hype.” He searches my eyes with narrowed ones. “Sometimes, I think it’s more comfortable for you to pigeonhole me into the persona you’ve created rather than the guy I actually am.”

  I gulp down a fresh burst of nerves.

  This conversation is ridiculous. I understand exactly who Rowan Michaels is. I’ve been forced to endure dinner with him once a week for the past three years. I’ve listened to him and Dad discuss football ad nauseum. We’ve had classes together almost every semester.

  There is no question in my mind that the guy standing before me is a total player. Like most of the athletes at Western, he’s spent the better part of his college years partying and sleeping with groupies. He gets by in his classes because he needs to retain eligibility to play football but has no intention of ever using his degree in the real world.

  So...do I know who Rowan Michaels is?

  Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do.

  I open my mouth to blast him into next week and realize that our faces are scant inches apart. Air becomes lodged in my throat at the heated look that fills his eyes. It’s anger mixed with something more potent. My gaze falls to his lips and everything inside me coils tight. An image of us in the kitchen on Wednesday forces its way into my brain. We were standing so close, and I’d wondered if he would kiss me.

  As much as I hate to admit it, I’d wanted him to do it.

  Just when I think Rowan will lean in, and I’ll finally feel the slide of his lips against mine, he takes a hasty step in retreat. The strong hands gripping my arms fall away, leaving behind an odd kind of regret to fill the emptiness. I’m so tempted to reach out and drag him closer. Instead, my hands tighten at my sides.

  I want to say something.

  Something that will smooth over the suffocating tension that vibrates in the cool night air between us, but my mind remains frustratingly blank.

  “Maybe you should take the time and get to know me instead of assuming things that aren’t true. If you would give me even half a chance, Demi, I might just surprise you.”

  With that, he swings around, stalking down the sidewalk in the direction we’d come from. For a long moment, I can only s
tare after him as a strange concoction of emotions crash inside me.

  There’s definitely relief. And if I’m being honest with myself, a fair amount of disappointment bubbles up as well.

  It’s almost enough to make me forget what I stumbled across at the party.

  Almost.

  But not quite.

  11

  Demi

  I’m startled out of a sound sleep when something—or more likely, someone—lands on my chest. My eyelids fly open, and I stare groggily up at vibrant green eyes that are entirely too awake for—I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand—good lord, it’s not even seven in the morning.

  Sunday morning, I might add. One of two days I take off from running and allow myself the luxury of sleeping in. And Sydney ruined it.

  “Why are you awake so early?” I slur.

  “Please, I could hardly sleep a wink last night.”

  “Ugh.” I attempt to push her off my body and roll onto my side, but Sydney refuses to budge from her perched position on top of me. “I really don’t want to hear about your sexcapades.”

  “Please, girl.” She rolls her eyes. “You would have heard that loud and clear firsthand.”

  She’s right about that. Her and Ethan are loud as fuck. It’s like they’re shooting a porno every single time.

  “I’m talking about what happened with you last night.”

  “Me?” Any sleepiness I’d been clinging to vanishes in the blink of an eye. “Nothing happened. What are you talking about?”

  She gives me a—exactly how drunk were you look. “Um, hello. There are a shit ton of stories flying all over the place. I heard about them before I even left the party.”

  Awesome. Exactly what I want to hear at the butt crack of dawn. When I remain silent, she pokes me in the chest with a pointy finger.

  “Ow!” I rub the spot. Damn! That hurt.

  She folds her arms across her chest. “Oh, and thanks for letting me know you were taking off. Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?”