Page 30 of Playing By The Rules

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.”

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