Playing By The Rules (The Players)
Playing By The Rules: Chapter 29

IT’S DOWNRIGHT REFRESHING, getting away from the brooding, angry Cam for a bit. He’s drunk. Miserable. Grumpy. Also a little…

Jealous?

Yes, definitely jealous. Which is surprisingly thrilling, I can’t lie.

But his mood is spreading like a dark cloud over me and I don’t want to end up mad too. Especially at him. Though I was before I arrived at Logan’s. I didn’t like how he just ignored me after the game, though I also knew that he was hiding after playing so poorly. Licking his wounds.

Cam is moodier than usual, thanks to how much alcohol he’s consumed tonight.

Not sure I approve of the drunk version of Cam either, but he’s not a big drinker overall, which is a good thing from what I can tell.

This is why I gave myself—and him—some space. I chatted up my brother and Joanna for a little bit, but I could tell they wanted to be alone so I left them. Found my roommates and ignored Cheyenne’s pointed remarks. Decided to grab myself a soda so I look like I’m drinking something and ended up running into Ace.

I like him. He’s sweet, friendly and so excited about everything. He’s also smashed but friendly about it. Like right now, explaining to me exactly what happened on the field when he threw his first touchdown.

“Swear to God, the ball pretty much slipped out of my fingers a little early and I thought I fucked it all up. The terror that ran through me.” Ace shakes his head, his hair flopping with the movement. “If I threw an interception I was done for.”

“You would’ve been dead in the water,” I agree with a nod.

He sends me a look, his head tilted as he contemplates me. “I forget that you come from a long line of football players.”

“I do.”

“That’s so…unbelievable.” He sounds awestruck.

“It’s just life.” I shrug. “I don’t know anything different.”

“That’s wild to think about. You just…grew up going to NFL games. Do you go to any now?”

“I’ve been to a couple. Mostly just to watch my cousin. It’s kind of weird when you think about all of the professionals I’m linked to now.”

“Guess it just runs in the family.”

“More like some of my family end up falling in love with football players.” I frown the moment the words leave my lips. Do I know Cam well enough to think I’m actually in love with him? I like him. I’m attracted to him.

I care about him. A lot. My heart ached for him during the game. I know he was frustrated with himself. He wasn’t playing well, and I know that had to have been hard on him. All I wanted to do was comfort him, but from the way he’s currently acting, he’s making it difficult.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Oh God. Speaking of Cam…

Both Ace and I turn our heads at the same time to replace Cam standing in front of us, his hands clutched into fists at his sides, his expression about the meanest I’ve ever seen him look. He is…furious.

But why?

“Who are you talking to, buddy?” Ace is trying to keep it friendly and I’m grateful for it.

“You.” Cam turns to stare at me. “And her.”

“We’re just talking,” I start, reaching for Cam, but he jerks his arm away from me, taking a step backwards.

“First you come for my position and now you’re coming for her? This is some bullshit.” I shift in between Cam and Ace, pressing my hands against Cam’s chest to keep him from lunging toward Ace. “Stay away from her.”

“We’re just friends, QB. Don’t worry.” Ace throws his hands up in the air, confusion written all over his face. “I’m not interested in Maguire’s sister. That’s way too risky.”

My heart sinks at Ace’s words. At the way they sink into Cam’s brain, as if he’s having that same realization. That yes, being with me would be too risky.

Damn it.

I practically drag Cam from the bar and toward the front door. He tries to tug out of my grip, though weakly. “Where are you taking me?”

“We need to leave.” I send him a look. “You need to sober up. Go to bed. Whatever.”

He lets me lead him out of the bar, plenty of people cheering him on when he walks through the door. He raises one fist in victory, earning more cheers, and I sort of want to bop him upside the head.

Luckily enough, I was able to replace a parking spot relatively close to the entrance, so I hit the unlock button on my key fob, guiding Cam toward the passenger side door.

“You driving me home?” he asks, slinging an arm around my shoulders and leaning heavily into me.

I nearly sag under his hold. God, he’s heavy. “I told you I would.”

“Right. To help Knox out.” He’s sneering. It’s not a good look on him. “Such a good sister.”

“I’m not doing this for Knox.” I open the door and shove him inside, pleased when he falls into the seat with a startled expression on his face. Like he can’t believe I just pushed him around. “I’m doing this for you.”

I slam the door before he can say anything and take my time walking around the car, inhaling deeply with every step. I get a tiny thrill out of him acting so territorial over me, but it’s also irritating. He’s just drunk. Sloppy. Emotional. But it’s also…

Kind of awful.

Finally, I’m in the car and starting the engine, not saying a word. He remains quiet as well, staring out the passenger side window once I start to drive. We don’t speak at all, the tension growing between us so thick that by the time I pull into the parking lot of his apartment, I’m ready to scream.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs after I put my car into park.

I stare at the back of his head because he’s still looking out the window. As if he can’t face me. “For what?”

“For all of it. The whole night.” He turns to look at me and I see the remorse written all over his handsome face. “It was a shit day and I turned it into a shit night and…I’m sorry.”

I get this sense that Camden Fields doesn’t apologize for much. Not because he doesn’t want to or has a hard time saying the words, but because he’s the type of guy who just does things and doesn’t have to answer to anyone. He keeps his circle extremely tight. And somehow…

I wormed my way in. Just like I hoped.

“I drank too much and I rarely do that. Not anymore.” He inhales deeply, averting his gaze, so he can stare out the windshield this time around. “I was pissed when I saw you with Ace.”

“I don’t like Ace like that.”

“I was mad at Knox too.”

“Why?”

“Because he can do whatever he wants with Joanna and doesn’t have to worry about someone else replaceing out and losing their shit over it.” He sounds miserable and my heart aches for him.

For me too.

When I say nothing—because what can I say to that?—Cam continues talking.

“Derek can be with whomever he wants. Everyone can. And I can’t.” He bangs the back of his head against his seat, closing his eyes. “I don’t like how I feel when I drink.”

“And how do you feel?”

“Like I’ve lost control. Like I’m marinating in my feelings and it’s freaking me out.” He turns his head, cracking his eyes open to look at me. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Cam—”

“I don’t. I’ve told you this before and I’m realizing it right now. All over again. Especially with everything that’s happened. You’re like…fucking perfect for me and I’m not for you. I’m far from it. All I’ll do is break your heart. You know what scares me?”

“What scares you?” I ask gently, trying to keep up with him changing the subject.

“That I’ll turn into the same piece of shit my dad is. He’s a drunk. An alcoholic who cares about no one else but himself. That’s going to be me.” He jerks his thumb at his chest, tapping it right in the center. “I’m afraid I’m going to turn into him and it fucking sucks.”

“You won’t.” I give in and reach out to thread my fingers in his hair at his temple, wanting to soothe him. He doesn’t react. He doesn’t even flinch. “You’re not like him. You’re kind and you’re good. You’re a great leader. Your team adores you.”

“Not today.” He presses his head against the seat and I feel like I’m witnessing the real Camden. The man who feels the weight of so much responsibility on his shoulders, and who struggles with it. Struggles with himself. He’s not as cocky as my brother is, not really. It’s a quiet confidence that radiates from Cam, but that’s not happening today.

Today he’s feeling less than, and that hurts my heart.

“Hey.” He turns at my whisper, his brows drawing together. “You never gave me that massage.”

Realization dawns and he shakes his head. “Are you trying to collect now?”

“No.” I shake my head. “But I’d like to give you one.”

“You would?”

I nod as I glance around the parking lot, looking for my brother’s truck. “You think Knox is here?”

“No. He’s still with Joanna.”

“Then sneak me into your bedroom and I’ll rub your shoulders,” I offer.

He stares at me for a long moment, his gaze roaming over my face. “Why are you so good to me?”

“Because someone needs to be. You beat yourself up far too much.” I smile at him.

He smiles in return.

And in that moment, I know that everything is going to be all right.

We’re in his bedroom less than five minutes later, Cam shutting and locking the door behind him, while I go into the connected bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror while I wash my hands, drying them quickly, once I turn off the water, then run my fingers through my hair.

I’m not dressed to impress. Not really. He didn’t even notice that I’m wearing his shirt, but that’s okay. It was my secret gesture to show that I’m rooting for him. Not like I can wear his jersey or paint his number on my face. That would bring up too many questions I don’t want to answer.

But I wanted to show support in any way I could and this was my only way.

I go through his cabinets, feeling like a creeper when I’m just looking for lotion. I replace a travel-sized bottle of Vaseline Intensive Care and don’t want to know what he uses it for, but I’m using it to rub his back. I’m sure he’s got some tense knots in his shoulders and a good rubdown will help him. Relax him.

Maybe even put him to sleep.

I’ve let go of all thoughts of having sex with him tonight. I don’t think he’s in the mood. And he’s still a little drunk, though he’s sobered up somewhat. Not enough to make much sense, the poor, rambling man.

Tucking my hair behind my ears, I grab the lotion and exit the bathroom to replace Cam sprawled out across his bed on his back, covering nearly the entire space. He has no shirt on. The jeans are gone too. He’s just in his boxer briefs—they’re red—and his arms are curved up, over his head, his face turned to the side, so all I can see is his profile. His eyes are closed and his feet are dangling over the edge of the mattress and lord help me, this man is so fine.

Even when he’s hurting.

Only when I press my knee onto the mattress does he open his eyes, watching me as I climb onto the bed. “Roll over,” I tell him, surprised when he does what I say without arguing.

“What are you doing?” His deep voice is muffled against the comforter and I smile at him.

“I’m going to give you that massage.”

He turns his head, pressing his face into the mattress. “Now I’ll owe you two.”

“And I’ll collect.” I crawl over him until I’m straddling his back, my butt resting on his. I pop open the cap on the lotion and pour some into my palm, rubbing my hands together before I apply them to his back. The moment I start digging my fingers in, he’s groaning.

“What are you using?”

“I found some lotion in your bathroom.” I rub and knead his tense muscles, working on one particular spot at the base of his neck. “You’re tense.”

“No shit.” He hesitates. “I use that lotion to jerk off sometimes.”

That was my exact thought when I found it. “No shit?”

He chuckles and the sound is warm. Hopeful. The first laugh I’ve heard out of him all night. “Yeah. Sometimes I even jerk off to thoughts of you.”

My entire body flushes hot and I drift my hands down his back, along his spine, my touch light. “Dirty thoughts?”

“You don’t even want to know.”

I press my elbows into his flesh, earning a grunt. “Actually, I do.”

Cam remains quiet as I continue massaging him. He’s so big and my hands really aren’t, so I have to put my all into it. Pounding on him with my fists. Working those knots out with my elbows. I’m getting tired because he’s nothing but a solid wall of flesh, but I feel like he needs this. Someone giving him something and not expecting anything in return.

“Sometimes I fantasize about you in the shower with me, taking it further than last time. Remember what happened?”

His deep voice vibrates against me and I go still, wanting to hear more.

“Or I think about you on your knees and I’m standing in front of you, fucking your pretty mouth, like I did that one time.” He exhales when I squeeze his side, right above his hip. “You have a pretty mouth, B.”

“Um…thanks?” His words are turning me on and I didn’t plan on that. Doesn’t help that I’m sitting on top of him, straddling his big body. Rubbing all of those glorious muscles.

“You make me want things I shouldn’t,” he admits, his voice low.

I pause, my hands braced on his back, my heart beating a little faster. “Like what?”

“Like you. Like a relationship. With you.” Another groan leaves him and this one has nothing to do with his aching muscles. “I should’ve never said that.”

Hope is a flickering flame in my heart and I tell it to knock it off. “I’d make a great girlfriend, you know.”

He laughs. “I know.”

“I’d be supportive of your football career. More than that, I understand it. I have lots of experience.”

“No one else would understand it like you do.” His voice is solemn and I know he means it.

“And I’m a decent cook.”

“A great one,” he corrects. “Wish you’d stop by and make us more dinners.”

“Noted. Only if I get massages as payment.”

“I’ll pay you in sexual favors,” he teases, and I smile.

“I’m sort of decent with the sex thing.” My words are hesitant. I don’t think I’m necessarily decent, but I’m not bad either. Cam is helping me in that department. Helping me gain more confidence, being open to try new things.

“You’re better than decent. I’ve got a boner right now.”

“You do?” I’m shocked.

“You’re rubbing lotion all over me, your hands are all over my skin and I’m basically naked. Of course, I’ve got a hard-on.” He suddenly starts to roll over, his hands going to my waist, basically lifting me as if I weigh nothing before settling me back down on him, my ass now snug against his very hard erection. “Wanna fuck?”

I burst out laughing and shake my head. “That’s wasn’t my plan for tonight.”

“Really?” He sounds surprised. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I got to Logan’s.”

“Even before I showed up?”

He nods, his hands squeezing my waist. “Then you came in wearing my shirt and I was done for.”

I sit up straighter. “You noticed.”

“How could I not? Did you do that for me?”

“Yeah,” I admit on a whisper.

“Come here.”

I lean over him, my face aligned with his. His gaze is zeroed in on my lips, his parting, his tongue sneaking out to lick at the corner of his mouth and I dip my head, lightly kissing him. “You should go to sleep.”

“No fucking way.” His hand tunnels beneath my shirt and up my back, fingers teasing along my bra, lingering on the snap. “We need to get you naked.”

“Cam…”

“Unless you just want to cuddle,” he suggests, using my favorite word. “I’d be down for some naked cuddling.”

“Is that your new code word for sex?”

“Well, yeah. Whatever it takes, Bumblebee.”

He kisses me then and I drown in his taste. In the firm strokes of his tongue and the way his hands drift all over my body. He’s sweeter tonight, not as commanding, and I fall for it.

Of course, I do.

Next thing I know I’m naked and he is too, and I’m still sitting astride him with his hands on my breasts and his already condom-covered cock poking my ass. I lift up, trying to align him so he can slide in easily, and he reaches around us, guiding himself inside my welcoming body, until I’m completely filled.

“Ride me,” he says, his hands on my hips, his hooded gaze on the spot where our bodies are connected.

I do as he says, slow at first, trying to replace my rhythm, straining against him when he nudges a spot deep within me that sends imaginary sparks all over my skin. We’re moving together, slow and deep, our hips rocking, his cock filling me again and again. I close my eyes, lost in the moment. Swept up. Carried away by the throb of him deep within me, the sensation growing. Building. Spreading outward, racing through my veins.

We don’t say much. We barely look at each other, too caught up in the way we’re making each other feel. He’s groaning. I’m whimpering with his every thrust. He hits that spot again and I see stars. The orgasm rushes through me, my inner walls clamping tightly around his shaft, strangling his orgasm out of him as well. We come together like some sort of miracle just happened, and when it’s over, when I collapse on top of him and press my lips to his neck, the racing beat of his pulse pounding against my lips, I realize that I lied to myself.

I might be in love with Camden Fields after all.