Page 35 of Playing By The Rules

It takes me a second to realize she’s left, and by the time I’m scrambling out of my chair and pushing my way through the crowd, I don’t see her. She’s already gone.

Panic racing through me, I barge through the front door of the bar, the cool evening air like a slap on my hot face. I glance around, first to my left, then my right, looking for her, but she’s nowhere to be found.

I round the side of the building that’s closest to the parking lot and there she is, leaning against the wall, aggressively tapping away on her phone. She glances up as I approach, doing a double take when she realizes it’s me that’s in front of her and an irritated noise leaves her.

“Go away.”

“No.” I’m still walking toward her, getting closer and closer.

“Look, I promise I’ll leave you alone, okay? You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m not into you.”

Meaning she’s totally into me, and she’s pissed because I won’t reciprocate her feelings. Even though I want to.

Even though I feel the same exact way.

“You’re into me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Your ego is ginormous.”

“You’re just mad at me.”

“With valid reason. You’re fucking annoying, Cam Fields. Oh, and you’re also blind.”

“Blind to what?” I’m close to her. Close enough to touch her and I do, pulling her into my arms. She goes with a bit of a fight, struggling when I slip my arms around her waist and haul her into me, but she slowly relaxes, as if she’s melting. All those lush curves snug tight against me.

My dick twitches, ready for action, the bossy fucker.

“Blind to me. Blind to us.” She rests her hands against my chest, one hand crawling upward so fucking slow, until she’s curving her fingers around the side of my neck. “Would it really be that bad, being with me?”

It would be fucking heaven. I know I could fuck her into oblivion and it still wouldn’t be enough. I could have her every way I want her and she’d just burrow deeper into my system, instead of working herself out of it.

“It wouldn’t be that bad,” I admit, my gaze dropping to her chest, which is currently rising and falling at an extremely rapid rate. She’s turned on. Or infuriated. There’s a fine line between those emotions, especially when it comes to our interactions lately.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” She huffs out a soft laugh, her gaze lingering on my mouth, and I lean in, so close, my lips brush hers when I speak.

“Yes.”

We stand there like that for what feels like minutes. Hours. In reality, it lasts only a few seconds tops before she’s pulling away, taking her delicious floral scent with her. My hands fall away from her waist and she’s backing up until her butt hits the wall.

“This is going to be the crudest thing ever, but shit or get off the pot, Camden. I’ve given you every indication that I want you. I’m not going to make a fool of myself forever,” she murmurs.

“Are you coming to Saturday’s game?” I’m changing the subject on purpose.

“I haven’t got any tickets yet,” she admits.

Students have first dibs on the cheap seats, but she doesn’t belong in that section.

“Did Knox give you tickets?”

“I haven’t spoken to him about the game.”

“I’ll make sure you have tickets. You want a couple, so you can bring someone? Maybe your roommates?”

She shakes her head, wrinkling her nose. “I’ll come alone, thanks.”

“You sure?” I hate the idea of her alone, while watching the game. But then again, maybe it’ll be good that she’s alone. That means her focus will only be on the game.

On me.

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