Player (What Happens on Campus Book 1) (9 page)

“Mind if I sit?” a voice behind her made her jump, peering over her shoulder to see a large figure looming over her.

She didn’t answer, just turned her face back towards the night sky and after a moment he joined her anyway, folding his long limbs into the same position and leaning back on one hand, taking his hat off with the other and putting it on the ground between them.

“You wanna tell me why I’m gettin’ the cold shoulder?”

Once more, she didn’t answer, because she didn’t know how, and he sighed loudly, leaning his shoulder against hers. Lifting a hand, he brushed the hair away from her face, his fingers trailing over her cheek and down the side of her neck. Gripping her chin gently, he turned her face towards him and the next thing she knew his lips were on hers, light and warm. It wasn’t really a kiss, just a momentary press of lips. It may have been an accident, but the look in his eyes as he drew back said otherwise.

“W-what was that?” she stuttered, after a moment of stunned silence.

“Obviously, I didn’t do it right,” he murmured. He was sitting so close that his breath tickled her skin and her heart pounded against her ribcage as he leaned in once more.

Another kiss. More decisive this time, more pressure, her lips parting beneath his. One large hand cupped the back of her neck, kneading softly, the other hand tangling in her long hair. Her mind blanked and instinct took over. Her own hands found their way into his thick hair, before sliding down to grip his shoulders, her nails digging into the hard muscles.

For a moment, she almost forgot that she’d seen him kissing another girl only a few hours ago. Almost. Turning her face away, Chloe gasped for breath, pushing at his shoulders to regain some of her personal space.

“What are you doing?” she snapped when she could breathe once more.

“Kissing you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve wanted to since I first met you.”

“You have a girlfriend.” Either that or he was a star-player even off the football pitch.

“Why the hell’d you think that? I told you I don’t do relationships.”

“But that girl you were kissing earlier… the blonde…”

“Karla? We’re not dating, we just fuck occasionally.” Immediately, he seemed to realize that he’d said the wrong thing because he leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “It’s not like it sounds,” he tried to explain, “it’s just a bit of fun, nothing serious, but I haven’t fucked her, or anyone, since I met you.”

The breath caught in her lungs. “Why?”

He shrugged, glancing away. “Because even though I said I didn’t want a real relationship, I guess deep down I knew that you’d never date me if you knew I’d been screwin’ around.”

“Are you saying that... Do you want..?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess so,” she echoed, arching one brow indignantly. “Well, don’t sound so sure.” Shaking her head, she threw up her hands in frustration, “God, you’re confusing! Since we met, you’ve done nothing but send me mixed messages. What do you want, Parker, just tell me?”

“I want you.”

“Exclusively?” she challenged, “A proper relationship? Because I won’t do friends with benefits, it’s all or nothing.”

Parker swallowed hard, his Adams apple bobbing. “Okay.”

Uncertain, Chloe bit her lips as she studied him; he didn’t look very certain and that wasn’t exactly reassuring. Was it a great idea to get involved with a guy who’d never had a relationship before? Did he even understand what a committed relationship entailed, or was she just setting herself up for heart break?

That night, as Parker lay in bed, he recalled the events of that evening. At the time, he hadn’t realized what he was saying, the words had just poured out, but he didn’t regret any of it. Only a few weeks ago, the mere idea of a relationship that he’d have to put valuable time and effort into would have sent him running, yet now it felt right. Still scary as hell though.

Laying on his back, he glanced over at Jet, who was just a lump beneath the covers. He didn’t even know if his roommate was awake to hear him, but the words needed to be said. “I asked Chloe out.”

“What?” Immediately, Jet’s head popped up. “Really? Did she say yes?”

“You think I’d be here if she’d said no? I’d be out gettin’ wasted.”

“True,” Jet agreed, sitting up and pushing away the sheets. He hesitated for a second, but then said, “All the time I’ve known you, you’ve never dated anyone. What’s so different about her?”

Parker honestly didn’t know why Chloe was so different, she just was. All his life, he’d been surrounded by his own parents’ toxic relationship; he’d spent his childhood watching his mom and dad break up and make-up again. They’d cheated, fought and generally made each other miserable since before he could remember. For whatever reason, their parents’ relationship hadn’t seemed to effect his three older brothers, but Parker wasn’t stupid enough to deny that it had damaged him. Why else would he be scared to have a real relationship? He’d always claimed that he didn’t want to date, because he wanted to focus all of his attention on football, but that wasn’t entirely true…

Glancing over at Jet, he shrugged. “She’s not like any other girl I know…” he hesitated as he tried to figure out the answer in his own head, “she’s… too good for me.”

Jet looked confused, but he didn’t say anything as Parker lay back down, returning his gaze to the ceiling.

He smiled, content now that he understood himself better. Usually, he didn’t go for good girls – he wasn’t a total bastard, he went for girls who knew what they were getting into, not girls who thought sex meant love. But he’d made a play for Chloe any way because he couldn’t not. And she’d said no. No girl had ever said no to him before, not since his growth spurt at the age of fifteen anyway. But the point was, Chloe was a different class of girl to the ones he was used to, he couldn’t imagine her ever lowering herself to pulling the kind of shit his mom got away with and he’d never hurt her by being like his dad. 

The next day, he practically sprang out of bed and ran to practice. Today felt like a good day, the sun was beating down on him and it smelt like cut grass. Practice went as it always did; laps, various other drills and a few games, the team teasing and ribbing each other while Coach yelled at them to stop screwing around. Once it was over and he’d showered, he headed off towards the café.

“Hey, where are you running off to?” Dawson called after him as he yanked a t-shirt over his head and hurried towards the door.

“Getting coffee,” he yelled back as he left, not waiting to hear his friends’ response.

Jogging across campus, he got to the café and waited in line, shifting impatiently from foot-to-foot. At least he didn’t have to wait long, since most of the campus were still in bed this early, and within minutes he was leaving with a Styrofoam cup in each hand.

Stopping to put one cup down on a bench, he pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text to Chloe, telling her to be ready in five minutes. He already knew she’d be up, since she didn’t usually sleep-in. Putting his phone back in his pocket, he continued towards Willow building and was standing outside Chloe and Riley’s room in under five minutes.

Knocking on the door, he stood back as he waited for an answer, taking a sip from his own cup, the boiling liquid scorching his tongue.

“Just coming.” Chloe’s voice called out, followed by a crash as if she’d knocked something over. “Bloody hell!”

Stifling a laugh, he moved closer to the door, so that he could hear as she swore and muttered to herself. A few seconds later, the door flew open and Chloe stood there looking flustered; wearing shorts and a short sleeved t-shirt, her face was flushed and her hair still sleep ruffled. As he watched, she scraped her fingers through the unruly strands, pulling them into a ponytail that hung down her back.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, suddenly worried that he’d been wrong.

“No, no,” she rushed to assure him, “I was in bed reading.” Stepping back into the room, she gestured for him to follow, saying over her shoulder, “Come in, I just need to put on some sun cream.”

He smiled to himself at that; he didn’t think he’d ever put sunscreen on in his life, his parents definitely hadn’t bothered when he was a kid, but then her skin was so pale that it was like she’d never seen the sun.

Inside the room, Chloe was crouched on the floor, scrambling to retrieve various bottles and tubes that had rolled under the bed. Putting both cups down, Parker stooped to pick up what looked like a tube of lipstick next to his foot, he placed it on the desk beside other toppled containers of its kind.

Glancing over at him as he began to straighten the mess, she grimaced, explaining, “I banged into the side of the desk and it all went down like a house of cards.”

Once they’d finished picking everything up, Chloe disappeared into the bathroom and he took the time to look around the girls’ small room. It was easy to figure out which side belonged to who. Whereas Riley’s side of the room was filled with girly shit – makeup on every surface, fluffy pink pillows on the bed, pictures plastered all over the wall – Chloe’s side was sparse. Stacks of schoolbooks were on the desk, beside her closed laptop, there was a framed photo on her bedside table and a ratty looking teddy bear sat on top of her neatly made bed, next to a hot water bottle of all things. He supposed it would have been hard for her to bring all her home-comforts with her, like most American students did, because of luggage weight restrictions.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Chloe closed the door quietly behind her, then just stood there for a moment, twisting a strand of hair nervously around one finger.

“Fancy a day out?” he asked, handing over her cup of coffee.

Instantly, a smile spread across her face. “Yeah, where are we going?”

“I was thinkin’, you’ve been here a month and you’ve barely stepped off campus yet. San Antonio ain’t too far if you want to take a drive.”

Something flickered across her face, but she masked it before he could figure out what and the excitement in her eyes was real.

“That would be great. I did a bit of research about San Antonio when I was looking at the Uni. The Alamo’s there and the Mission San Jose, the Botanical gardens…” She trailed off, lifting a hand to her face as she blushed, “Sorry, I’m talking your ear off. What did you have planned?”

Gesturing for her to follow him out of the door, he replied honestly, “I hadn’t got that far. We’ll do whatever you want.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll find something.”

Closing the door, they headed off along the hall and down the stairs. It was kind of awkward to begin with, neither of them really knew how to act, but once he realized that being in a relationship was pretty much the same as being friends, except more physical, it was easy. He was good at being her friend, it was something he could do.

Watching her from the corner of his eye, he saw her take a sip out of her cup and grimace. His head fell back on a groan, “You don’t like coffee, do you?”

“Sorry.”

“How did I not know that?”

She shrugged, “I prefer tea.”

Unable to hold in his burst of laughter, he shook his head. “Shoulda guessed.” She was British, after all.

When they reached the street where their ride was parked, he pointed out the blue Chevy and she glanced over at him with a smirk, “That’s not the kind of car I would have pictured you in.”

“It’s Jet’s,” he explained, “I can’t afford a car. What would you have pictured me driving?”

“Some big-arse truck. Probably red. Wheels caked in mud. Maybe a few dents, depending on how good a driver you are.”

That made him laugh. “Don’t tell Jet that, he won’t let me borrow his car again.” Which reminded him… Grabbing his phone, he quickly texted his roommate:
I’ve got your car.

Putting it back into his pocket, he clicked the key fob to unlock the car, fighting back a smile as she circled around to the left. “You planning on drivin’, sugar?”

Realizing her mistake, Chloe rolled her eyes at him. “I forgot you drive on the wrong side of the road.”

“Nah-ah,” he shook his head with a smirk, “we drive on the
right
side, the clue’s in the name.”

Again, she rolled her eyes, laughing up at him as she rounded the car and he held the correct door open for her, closing it once she was seated inside. Getting in himself, he adjusted the seat and then started the engine, pulling out onto the empty road and heading towards the highway.

“Can you drive?” he asked out of curiosity.

“I have a license,” she said after a pause, “but I don’t feel comfortable driving.” Her strained tone clearly said end of conversation. 

Chloe watched him closely as he drove, he felt her eyes on him as he turned onto the main road leading out of town. When he stopped at a set of traffic light, to let a group of girls pass, he turned to look at her.

“What’s up?”

“What?” She jumped as if he’d caught her doing something scandalous – he wished.

“I’ve never seen you so on edge, what’s going on?”

Instead of answering, she turned her head to look out of the window as the light turned green and they started moving again. He was beginning to realize that was how she got around questions she didn’t want to answer, she just pretended they hadn’t been asked and hoped they went away.

Returning his eyes to the road, he reached over and pulled open the glove compartment, saying, “Choose a CD, music helps.”

After a moment, he heard her rifling through Jet’s music collection and a minute later some jazz band started playing. When they’d first become roommates freshman year, Parker hadn’t been able to bear Jet’s favorite brand of music, but he was slowly getting used to it… he still thought it was a load of shit, but it no longer made his ears bleed.

“Jet has crap taste in music and he’s the only person I know who still has CDs.”

That made her laugh, turning the music up a couple of notches as she said firmly, “I like it.” Humor suddenly returning, he saw her grinning at him out of the corner of his eye. “Let me guess, you like country music?”

“‘Course, what Alabama boy doesn’t? Tim McGraw’s great.”

“Who’s that?”

“Seriously…?” He looked over at her with raised eyebrows. “I definitely need to educate you. You’re in Texas, you need to know who Tim McGraw is.”

“If you say so.”

From then on the conversation flowed easily. It took them two hours to reach San Antonio; it wouldn’t have taken that long except that they stopped for breakfast, since both their stomach were growling.

Once they got there and had parked up, they wondered around for a while, taking everything in while they decided how to spend their day. In the end, they wandered along the River Walk, beneath the colorful awnings of the restaurants and shops lining its banks. They didn’t hold hands, but they walked so close that their arms brushed, giving him little electric shocks every time. The trees provided shade and they stopped to sit on a bench, watching side-by-side as small, red river boats drifted past.

Unfolding the tourist map she’d picked up at a little stall, she spread it over both their knees like a blanket, her fingers tracing the roads as she searched, her face pinched with concentration, a small dent between her brows. Studying her face, he noticed a thin white scar down the left side of her face; it was partially hidden by her hair line, going from temple to ear, which was probably why he hadn’t noticed it before now.

Unable to help himself, he reached out and traced a finger over the old injury, gently as if it might still hurt her. “How’d you do that?”

Tensing, she tilted her head away and his hand fell back to his side. For a moment, he thought she’d refuse to answer, like she had earlier, but then she said quietly, “I was in a car crash.”

He winced. “Was it bad?”

Lifting a hand, Chloe smoothed her ponytail over one shoulder. “Bad enough.” There was a hitch in her voice and her lips pressed together, big brown eyes glistening.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know the whole story, but he could guess enough, the loss in her voice spoke volumes. Needing to comfort her, Parker stretched out an arm to wrap around her shoulders, only to have her push him away.

“Don’t,” she snapped.

Slowly drawing back, he watched her closely for a moment, before returning his gaze to the water flowing past and adjusting his cap. Two more boats sailed by, packed with sightseers, before he felt a light touch on his shoulder.

When he turned around, Chloe was biting her lip, guilt written all over her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I didn’t mean to snap, but if you hug me I’ll probably start crying and I don’t want to ruin today.” Hesitating, she slid her hand down his arm to grip his fingers, squeezing slightly as she asked, “I haven’t, have I?”