Player (What Happens on Campus Book 1) (11 page)

Once classes were through, she headed straight to her room rather than going to hang out with the others. Today had been totally and utterly exhausting. Riley wasn’t back when she got into the room, but she had text her earlier to let her know she was alright. Changing into her PJ’s, she stretched out on her bed and grabbed her copy of
Pride and Prejudice
– back at home in England, her bedroom had been like a library, but she clearly hadn’t been able to bring all her books to Texas, so she’d just selected a few of her favourites to make the journey with her. This hardback edition of Jane Austen’s famous book had been a fifteenth birthday present from her parents, which she’d read numerous times. The familiarity of the text soothed her, it was like an old friend.

Elizabeth had just met Mr. Darcy for the first time when her phone buzzed. It was Parker asking where she was. When she told him, his response was to say that he’d be over in a few minutes.

Damn, she thought, looking down at herself. It was far too early in their tentative relationship for him to see her slobbing out in her pyjama shorts and an old, grey t-shirt. Jumping off the bed, she hurried to yank her clothes back on. She was considering doing something with her hair and maybe even putting some make-up on, when there was a knock on the door and she realized she was out of time.

Parker smiled as he stepped inside, immediately going in for a kiss. “How was your day?”

“It was…er, different.”

Smile slipping, he sat down on the edge of the bed and used her hand to pull her down beside him. “What’s up, sugar?”

Sighing, she traced the veins on the back of his hand, as she told him everything that had happened today, thought she emitted certain parts of what Karla had said to her; they hit far too close to home to be repeated.

When she had finished telling him about the religious girl in the canteen, he shook his head and said, “Welcome to the Bible Belt, everyone has an opinion.”

“Well, I wish they’d keep it to themselves.”

“Yeah, you and everyone else, but they’ll get bored soon, I swear. Plus, once they see I’m not gonna screw around on you, they’ll say it’s a miracle and make you a saint.”

Unfortunately, those words of comfort didn’t help her over the next few days as people continued to stare and gossip – she’d thought shit like this ended once you became an adult, but clearly not. Apparently Bowling for Soup were right; High School Never Ends.

Picking up on her discomfort, Parker began walking her to and from classes, even though she protested that it was making his education suffer. Despite what she said though, it was nice having him at her side, everyone looked away once he glared at them and no one dared comment. Well, except for one guy who wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

Out on the quad, a tall, Hispanic guy who Chloe recognised as one of Parker’s teammates sauntered up to them, a huge, self-assured grin on his face.

“Here comes motor mouth,” Dawson, one of Parker’s friends who had taken to walking with them in the morning, announced, which only made the other guys smile widen, as if it were some kind of inside joke instead of an insult.

“Hey Parker, I heard you had a girl, didn’t believe it though, not the infamous Parker Mitchell. Shit, you must have screwed most of the hotties on campus.”

Glancing over at her, Parker clenched his jaw. “Shut the fuck up, Luis.”

“Whoa, dude! Are you pussy whipped or what? God, she must be an amazing lay,” he winked at her, “send her my way once you’re done.”

The next thing she knew, Luis was on the floor, clutching his face, with blood pouring from between his fingers. Standing over him, Parker looked like he might be about to go in for another hit when Dawson grabbed his arm and dragged him away, saying, “I think he got the message the first time.”

“Dickhead,” Parker spat, as his friend pulled him away.

Following, Chloe glanced back over her shoulder as the bloodied boy picking himself up off the ground, red speckling his shirt. When they were a fair distance away and Dawson was no longer having to hold Parker back, she commented, “Well, that was well handled.”

Parker stopped in his tracks, turning on her with a scowl. “What the hell did you expect me to do, Chloe? He pretty much called you a fuckin’ slut.”

“So? We both know it’s not true, just ignore it.”

“And do nothin’? Fuck that, no one messes with my girl.”

“I’m just saying you didn’t need to punch him. You can’t just go around hitting people.”

“Some people need hitting.”

“Sorry, bro, but I don’t think that’ll stand up in court,” Dawson butted in. “She’s right, you need to get a handle on your temper. Luis ain’t the sort to snitch, but one day you’re going to get arrested for assault if you don’t watch it.”

Swearing harshly, Parker paced a few steps, kicking out at a dustbin and startling a few pigeons into flight. Stalking back in their direction, his gold flecked eyes latched onto hers for a moment, like a drowning man, before he turned and walked off, heading away from the buildings where classes were held.

“Let him cool off,” Dawson said when she went to follow him. “Come on, class will be starting soon.”

Watching Parker’s retreating back, she hesitated, before turning and heading towards the grey buildings rising up in front of her. As they walked, quickly because they were running late, Chloe thought about everything Parker had changed for her in such a short period of time. And he was actually turning out to be a damn good boyfriend. Despite his reputation as a player, he was caring and considerate and, most importantly, she never felt like he was looking at other girls when they were together. She should probably give him a little lee-way. He couldn’t help the way he’d been brought up and it’s wasn’t like he’d beaten the tar out of the other guy, it had been one punch and Luis
had
deserved it in a way.

Most people were in class by now and the front of the building was pretty much deserted as they jogged up the front steps. Dawson flung open the door and there was a squeal, books and paper flying everywhere.

Swearing, he rushed to pick up the girl he’d just knocked to the floor. “Sorry, sweetheart, are you okay?” Blonde hair covering her face, the girl was tiny and he set her back on her feet easily, towering over her as he asked again, “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly, “but my glasses…”

“I’ll find them,” he said quickly, stepping backwards. Something crunched beneath his trainers and Chloe cringed, the girl paled; there went her glasses. Dawson bit his lip, wincing guiltily, before saying, “I’ll buy you new ones. Do you have a spare pair?”

“At home.”

“Let me walk you there.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, really…” the girl stammered nervously, squinting at the floor, where all her books were scattered. Bending down, Chloe quickly scooped them all up, glancing at some of the papers which had mathematical equations written all over them.

“We can’t let you go on your own,” Chloe said, holding out the books to the girl who immediately hugged them to her chest like a shield, “not if you can’t see anything.”

“I can see a little,” she hedged, “and I don’t live on campus so I’ll just call a taxi…”

“I’ll drive you.”

The girl’s mouth snapped shut. She clearly didn’t want to take Dawson up on the offer, but didn’t know how to say no. Chloe glanced over her shoulder at the closed classroom doors and then followed the other two back out of the building. She’d never skipped class before, but everyone did it, she assured herself.

Dawson’s car was a sporty, low-slung red vehicle with a beautiful, glistening shine that almost blinded her as they approached. “Nice car,” she commented, to which he grinned like a little boy. Chloe shook her head, boys and their toys.

The girl insisted on sitting in the back, which was probably for the best, since Chloe wasn’t sure she could fold her legs into such a small space. She had just clipped on her seatbelt, could hear the others doing the same, when she realized that none of them had remembered to introduce themselves.

Turning in her seat, she said, “I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“Payton,” the girl murmured back, still clutching at her pile of books.

“Are you a freshman too?”

A nod in response, just as Dawson reached out a hand for her to shake. “Dawson Stone.”

Having been tentatively reaching out to take his hand, Payton froze midway, drawing back, shock on her face as she echoed his name.

Frowning, he asked, “Do we know each other?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “Since you’re only a freshman, we can’t have slept together.”

Instantly, Payton’s face flamed bright red and Chloe shot him a disapproving look for making her even more uncomfortable than she already was.

“We… we went to the same High school.”

“Oh,” he shrugged, turning back to face the front, “sorry, I don’t think I remember you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Dawson didn’t hear the bitter reply because of the engine starting, but Chloe did and she wondered what the history was there. Unlike Riley, she wasn’t nosey enough to pry though.

Once the girl knew Dawson’s identity, she was even more determined to get rid of them, though determined wasn’t exactly the right word, since Chloe had never met anyone who was as shy and nervous as Payton appeared to be. As soon as they reached the single level house on the outskirts of a small town just outside of campus, Payton all but jumped from the car, almost tripping over in her haste, as she assured them that her Aunt would be home to help her find her spare glasses and disappeared into the house.

When she was gone, Chloe turned to Dawson, “However she knows you, you need to apologize.”

“Yeah,” he rubbed at his jaw, staring at the closed front door, “I wish I could remember her.”

“Well she definitely remembers you.”

Scowling at the road, he peeled away from the kerb, heading back towards campus. “I guess you’re not going back to class?” he said as they got closer. When she answered the negative, he continued, “Parker will be running laps, it’s what he does when he’s pissed. I’ll drop you at the football pitch.”

Dropping her off, Dawson drove away as Chloe watched a familiar figure circling the pitch. Going to sit in the stands, she watched him for several minutes, just waiting. He did one more round. Then another. Slowing down, he turned in her direction, staring up at her as he yanked his drenched t-shirt off over his head and used it to mop the sweat off his face, slowly making his way towards her. His face was stony as he approached, guarded, his big hands fisted by his side, the veins standing out in stark relief. Despite his expression she couldn’t stop her gaze from sliding briefly down to his chest. All those hard muscles…

Standing up, she went to meet him halfway, her flip-flops slapping against the cement steps. “Hey,” she murmured, stopping when there was only a couple of feet between them, “I’m sorry about earlier. I do like it that you’re protective, it’s actually kind of a turn on.”

A half smile tugged at his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes as he said, “Next time just turn it down a notch, yeah?”

Reaching out a hand, Chloe squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”

Sighing, he raked a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back. “Yeah, me too.” But still, he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.

Taking his hand, she pulled him towards the changing rooms, “Come on, you seriously need a shower, then we’ll go for a coffee.”

“You don’t drink coffee.”

“Don’t be pernickety,” she sniffed, glancing over her shoulder at him. When they got to the changing rooms, she stopped and waited for him to go in front of her. “Go check there’s no one in there.”

Silently, he went in and emerged a second later, nodding that the coast was clear. Following him inside, she sat down on one of the benches between the rows of lockers. Parker hesitated for a minute, but when she simply continued to sit there watching him, he shrugged and stripped all the way down.

To her credit, she managed not to look away or act like she’d never seen a guy naked, but she could feel the blood heating her cheeks as his body was revealed to her. Damn, he was gorgeous. If football didn’t work out, he could definitely get work as a model, though perhaps his looks were a little too rough for that – didn’t magazines generally prefer the sculptured, pretty-boy types?

As she studied him, she frowned to see several little, round marks dotting his torso and wondered what they were. Chickenpox scars, perhaps?

Without a word, he turned and headed towards the showers and Chloe didn’t even attempt to stop her eyes from ogling his backside as he walked away.

A few minutes later, when he returned with a white towel wrapped around his waist, he no longer looked quite so grumpy; he even arched a brow and teased, “Are you gonna watch me dress too?”

“Do you mind?” she asked candidly.

“No.” Finding the locker with his surname on it, written on a piece of tape, he spun the combination lock until it popped open, grabbed the fresh clothes that were stashed inside before shutting it again with a reverberating clang. Once he was dressed, he came to sit beside her on the bench, leaning forward so that his elbows were braced on his knees and turning his head to look up at her. “I overreacted earlier, right?”