Playing By The Rules (The Players)

I STARE at Blair Maguire’s beautiful face, dumbfounded.

Did she say what I think she just said?

“Never mind.” She waves her hand, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. “Forget I asked that.”

The problem is, I don’t think I’ll ever forget she asked that. I have always found her attractive. Even when Knox and I were incoming college freshmen and she was going to be a senior in high school, and I went to her house that one summer, eager to meet their dad. She was cute then. Blonde and green-eyed and always wearing a friendly smile, yet rarely wearing much clothing, considering how hot it was that weekend. I stayed at her family’s house for three days that first summer I met Knox, and by the end of the stay, I realized something.

My new friend’s sister had a crush on me.

That’s not my ego talking either. I’d always catch her staring at me. She followed me around—a lot. Made sure she was always sitting out by the pool when we were out there too, wearing some little bikini that barely covered her. She has perfect tits and a tiny waist and flared hips. Curves in all the right places that I would mentally tell myself not to look at.

I told my mental, nagging voice to fuck right off every single time I caught myself checking her out. Even though I knew it was a bad idea. As in, me and Blair.

We’re a terrible idea.

The worst part of that one short summer visit? How her sweet voice would always turn softer when she spoke to me, those big green eyes drinking me in. Like she couldn’t get enough of my presence. She’d try to make conversation with me every chance she got.

Can’t lie, it felt good to have such a pretty girl seemingly crushing on me, but she was young. And I wasn’t interested. Not really. One, the age difference—well more the school difference—and two, she was Knox’s sister. And he warned me straight out that his sisters were off-limits.

Having her sit in front of me now, looking prettier than ever and asking me if I ever thought about having sex with her? Fuck.

My answer would be a hell yes, but I can’t say that out loud.

Can I?

I might’ve told myself back in the day I wasn’t interested in her, but it was a lie. I always thought she was beautiful. I would’ve totally made a move on her if she’d been older and not Knox’s sister.

Still can’t make a move because…yeah.

Blair is Knox’s sister.

There are rules Knox has laid down and boundaries established. We can’t touch Blair.

Period.

“Yeah, I’ve thought about it,” I finally mutter, so low she almost didn’t hear me.

But she definitely did. I see the realization dawn. The slow smile that curls her lips, immediately erased, like she didn’t mean to do it.

“Camden Fields,” she softly chastises, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Really?”

She sounds surprised, but come on. Has she looked at herself in the mirror lately? She’s fucking gorgeous. All that blonde hair and smooth skin. Those pink lips that are perfectly-shaped. Not to mention she has a great body. A perfect ass that I’ve stared at more than a time or two.

I scrub a hand over my face, trying to keep my thoughts under control.

“I shouldn’t be talking with you like this.” I sit up straighter, clearing my throat. “Your brother would have my ass.”

“I won’t tell him if you don’t,” she promises, her voice…sultry?

Well, damn. What do I say to that?

“Look, I should go.” When she rises to her feet, I recall her saying she didn’t have to be at her next class for another forty-five minutes, which was like…ten minutes ago. Tops. “It was nice seeing you. Hopefully we’ll run into each other again sometime soon.”

Before I can say anything, even goodbye, she grabs her backpack and she’s gone.

Without hesitation, I shoot out of my seat, leaving everything behind at the table while I chase after her. She might not be tall with a long stride like me, but she’s fast, seeing as she’s practically to the side doors of the library when I curl my fingers around her upper arm, stopping her.

She whips around, surprise in her eyes when she realizes I chased after her.

“If I made you uncomfortable, I didn’t mean to,” I say, suddenly sweating. I don’t want to piss her off or offend her. And this has nothing to do with Knox. I know he’ll kick my ass if I did something rude to his sister, but really?

I respect Blair. I like her. And I don’t want to hurt her feelings.

Something dawns in her gaze, something I can’t quite figure out, and her lips curve into the tiniest smile. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Cam.”

Thank Christ. “Okay, good.”

“It was—interesting though, what you said.”

I’m frowning. “How so?”

“That we’re having the same thoughts about each other.”

I blink at her, the meaning behind her words sinking into my brain.

“I’ve wondered what it would be like with you too.” She blasts me with the full wattage of her smile, before she turns and pushes her way through the double doors, disappearing out of view.

Leaving me at a complete loss.

Practice is a bitch. My arm aches from constantly throwing and that son of a bitch Derek tackled my ass out of nowhere, taking me down to the ground. The coaches went apeshit, screaming at him, and Derek apologized over and over again, making me feel bad for being mad at him.

Still am though, even if it’s unreasonable.

Once I’m dressed and ready to leave, Coach asks me to come into his office, which I do, settling in the chair across from his desk.

“Maguire waiting for you?” he asks. He knows our living situation and how we usually go to practice together.

“He is,” I answer.

“I’ll make it quick then.” He scoots his creaky old desk chair closer, resting his arms on the edge of the desk. “We need to protect you at all costs.”

“Protect me?”

“Your arm. That asshole Derek.” Coach rubs his jaw, his lips firm. “I’m sorry that happened.”

I’m in shock Coach would apologize. “You had nothing to do with it.”

“Still. You’re the best fucking QB we’ve had in years. I can’t risk losing you, not this year. You and Maguire are powerhouses. You two keep this up and you’re on your way to the NFL for sure.”

I refuse to get my hopes up. That is the ultimate dream. But I’m not part of a legacy like my friend. With his retired NFL-playing father and uncle, he’s got an automatic ‘in’ that I will never have, and while I’m not jealous of it, I sure do wish it was me sometimes.

“Thanks, Coach,” I say when I realize he’s done. “That’s all you wanted to tell me?”

“That and I wanted you to know how much I appreciate you. The entire coaching staff does. Your calm demeanor keeps everyone on an even keel which we appreciate. Those boys listen to you, son. Your quiet leadership is outstanding. You are an asset to this team, Fields.” He nods once, and I leap to my feet, taking that as my dismissal. “Don’t fuck it up.”

The same words linger in my brain the entire drive home. I give noncommittal answers to Knox, while what Coach said is on repeat.

Don’t fuck it up.

Talk about freaking me out. I am bound to fuck it up. I’m not perfect. Not even close. And I have a feeling I will do exactly that at one point or another during the season.

“What the hell did Coach say to you to put you in such a funk?” Knox demands.

I send him a look, afraid to repeat anything out loud. “Just tried to pump me up.”

Knox grins, the cocky bastard. “I take it that it wasn’t a success.”

“More like freaked me out.”

“Well, put his words out of your head. Don’t let him get to you.” He pauses, and I know he’s thinking about how this sort of thing always messes with me. “We have a game this weekend. It’s going to be great.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” Knox says firmly. “Think about something else. Think about…the pretty girl you ran into on campus today.”

My defenses shoot up. “How do you know I ran into a pretty girl?”

“Because you always do, asshole. It’s that face of yours.” Knox slaps me on the shoulder, making me flinch.

The only pretty girl I ran into just so happens to be related to my best friend and roommate. Blair’s face pops into my brain, her tantalizing words now on repeat, replacing Coach’s.

I’ve wondered what it would be like with you too.

Seriously, what the fuck is she saying? She had a crush on me a while ago, but was she implying she’s still into me?

Hard to believe, but I don’t think she was lying when she said that.

Wild.

Not like we can act on any urges we might have for each other. Knox would chop my nuts off with a machete and make me wear them around my neck as a reminder of what not to do. Blair is untouchable with a capital U. I’d be an idiot to even consider getting involved with her.

And when I mean involved, I use the word loosely. I am not the commitment type. I just don’t have the time and most of the women I’ve spent time with aren’t out for a real commitment either. They just want to have a good time. Same as me.

Relationships aren’t my thing. I’m not ready to have one. I don’t know if I ever will be. I saw the way my parents went at each other’s throats every chance they got through their divorce. My older brother got the hell out of the house the moment he graduated from high school and never looked back. I did pretty much the same. Dad will show up to my football games from time to time, but I don’t talk to him much beyond those encounters. We’re not close. I’m holding on to too many old memories of him yelling at us, drunk off his ass and pissed at the world.

No thanks. I’m doing my best to make my life positive. I don’t need his negativity to bring me down.

“You all right?” Knox asks, once I’ve pulled into our assigned spot in the apartment parking lot. “You seem…preoccupied.”

“Just got a lot on my mind.” Which is the damn truth. I feel like I’m going to cave under the pressure at any moment. From school. Football. A hot girl I shouldn’t fantasize about.

I need to let loose. I need to get out and forget about my troubles, even for a few hours. “Want to go to Logan’s tonight?”

“Nah.” He makes a face. “Still not over what happened last time I went.”

When he saw that one girl and she sat on his lap after he tried to snag the same chair she wanted. I think he’s got a thing for her. The girl who works at the bookstore or whatever. She’s cute. Not necessarily my type, though I try to rile him up by acting like I’m interested.

Sometimes I’m a prick, but it’s all in fun. Everyone on the team loves to give each other shit.

“Your loss,” I tell him, envisioning a cold, crisp bottle of beer waiting for me at the bar. Hopefully a cute little blonde will be there too, one who doesn’t have green eyes or the last name Maguire.

That would be the best scenario. Doesn’t matter how much I’m interested in her, I can’t have her. Blair Maguire may as well have a sign across her face that says…

Hands off.