Fair Game (The Rules #1)

by Monica Murphy

  I stop in my tracks, dread filling me. Holy shit. What if she is? Yeah, she had that weenie boyfriend of hers, Noel or Joel or whatever the fuck, but that didn’t mean shit.

  She didn’t kiss like a virgin. But how does a virgin kiss? There are a lot of virgins out there who are saving it for Jesus—I swear, that line has been used on me before—but they’ll do everything else. And when I say everything else, I mean everything else.

  “That’s it, huh. She must be a virgin.”

  I turn to stare at Tristan, who’s sipping on his coffee, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. And he doesn’t. He’s a rich fuck who skates through life and uses women like they were Kleenex. Just like I used to be until I met Jade.

  It’s really hard for me to believe I’ve known Jade for only a few days. It feels like an eternity. And not in a bad way either.

  “I don’t think she’s a virgin,” I say slowly.

  “Aha! And that’s the problem.” He points a finger at me. “You don’t know if she’s a virgin or not. Meaning you don’t know anything. She’s stringing you along and she’s eventually going to give you a major case of blue balls for your trouble.”

  Sighing, I toss my head back and stare at the ceiling, struggling for patience. If he weren’t my cousin, I would’ve kicked him out of the house a long time ago. Guy never knows when to shut up.

  “I’m serious dude. Stop wasting your time on that ice queen. One and done, remember? Those are the rules,” Tristan stresses.

  “Who came up with these so called rules anyway, huh?” I look at him again, ignoring my buzzing phone, wanting to hear Tristan’s answer. “Because they are seriously fucked up.”

  “You’re the one who came up with them, asshole,” Tristan reminds me just before he turns and stalks back toward the kitchen, muttering the entire way.

  I run a hand through my hair, tamping down the frustration that’s rolling through me. I’m so sick of everyone telling me what I’m supposed to do. It’s been that way my entire life. My sisters bossed me around. My parents. Hell, now even my freaking cousin and my best friend are supposedly offering me advice about my sex life.

  But what the hell do they know? What does anyone know? I have no idea what’s happening between Jade and I, and I’m not going to stop pursuing her either. I want her. Badly. One shitty interruption by an obnoxious girl who yells toodles isn’t going to stop me. I can be patient when I want.

  With Jade, I’m willing to do just that. Be patient. Coax her into this. I know she’s reluctant. I think…I scare her. Hell, she scares me too. I don’t do this sort of thing. I’m not a believer in relationships. My parents cured me of that. They have one of the most fucked up relationships I’ve ever seen.

  Then again, maybe I’m coming on too strong, though I’ve behaved like a freaking saint most of the time when I’ve been with her. I could’ve fucked her the night she was drunk but I was respectful enough not to.

  I almost want to laugh. Me, respectful? That’s all kinds of hilarious.

  My phone starts buzzing in my hand again and I glance at the screen to see that it’s my mother calling.

  Hell. I don’t want to talk to her. She’s bound to give me an endless bunch of shit, like she usually does.

  “Thank you for the birthday gift darling,” she coos when I answer.

  Great. I forgot to call her on the most important day of her life. I’m never going to hear the end of it. “Happy Birthday, Mom.”

  “Ah, thank you, Shepard. I do adore that candle. It will go perfectly in the house. And it smells absolutely divine.”

  I think of Jade. How she thought it was so boring that I bought my mother a white candle. “Glad you like it. Are you having a good day?”

  “Well, your father isn’t around, but that’s par for the course so his absence hasn’t disappointed me yet. Though he claims he’ll be here tonight to take me to dinner.” I wonder sometimes why they’re still married. They hate each other. Reminds me yet again that marriage is a complete farce, forced upon us as the right thing to do.

  “I’m guessing you’re going out with your friends then?” I ask.

  “Yes. A late, martini soaked lunch is on the agenda. I can’t wait.” She laughs and I wince. I don’t want to hear about Mother and her martini soaked birthday lunches. Bad enough I feel like a shit for forgetting to call her. Though thank God my father reminded me of her upcoming birthday a few days ago.

  “Listen, I need to go to class.” Lies. “But I hope you have a great day, Mom. You deserve it.”

  “Thank you, darling.” She sighs, sounding wistful and just before I end the call she says, “Trust me, though. The older you get, the harder these birthdays are to face.”

  Huh. I guess that’s why she wants to get drunk on too many martinis. When I celebrated my twenty-first, I got drunk because I finally was legally able to. Mom’s getting drunk because she wants to forget she’s getting old.

  And this little realization is exactly why I have zero desire to get serious about…anything.

  You’ve been avoiding me.

  I drop my phone after reading Shep’s latest text and press my face against my pillow so I can groan into it. Can’t he be like every other shitty guy out there on the planet and leave me alone? Guys have ignored me pretty much my entire life and I was used to it, thank you very much. The first gorgeous one who comes along has for some reason set his sights on me and now he won’t leave me alone. I should be thrilled.

  And I am, I swear. I’m also scared. He makes me so incredibly nervous it’s stupid.

  It’s been three days since the kissing incident—or as Kelli likes to call it, the fuck birds moment. Yes, I told her about Miss Toodles and my roommate and tormentor found the entire story hilarious. I’m glad she can laugh at my pain.

  Anyway.

  Shep called me as promised the next day, but not until the late afternoon. Yes, he kept me on pins and needles, just like he predicted. He made me laugh. He flirted heavily. He asked what I was doing. I told him I was writing a huge paper that was due the next day. Eventually he ended the call but not before murmuring in that sexy, melt all my bones voice that he would call me again tomorrow.

  And he did. I mean, what the hell? I don’t get his fascination with me. I really, truly don’t. I’m a bitch toward him most of the time and it’s like I can’t help it. I think he brings out the worst in me. He’s been so sweet though. Calling me, making me laugh. Sending me silly texts. Asking me if we can get together again and I keep putting him off with lame excuses.

  I don’t want to tell him the truth. Not only does he scare the crap out of me because he so does, but there’s also that pesky little monthly issue that I’m currently dealing with.

  As in, Aunt Flo is making a visit. And she’s a real nasty bitch sometimes.

  It started with the small migraine headache the morning after the kissing incident (aka fuck birds moment). I knew when I woke up I was in trouble. By that afternoon I had major cramps. I really did have to write a huge paper that night so the excuse was legit. But since then?

  Nope. It’s been all about the period.

  “Your misery is making me crazy.” Kelli slams her laptop shut, startling me. I glance up from my pillow to find her glaring at me. We’re usually in sync. It’s that weird female hormonal thing that causes women who are together a lot to be on their periods at the same time, which is just…odd. But she finished last week and is all perky and happy while I’m drowning in my grouchy mood.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, not sorry at all. My phone dings again, reminding me of my text from Shep and I inhale deeply, wishing I could answer him. But what could I say?

  Oh hey, Sheppers I wish we could hang out tonight but I’m surfing the crimson wave at the moment and there’s no way you want to get near that so…toodles!

  Yeah. That wouldn’t go over so well. And I bet no one in his life has ever called him Sheppers.

  “We’re going out,” Kelli announces as she stan
ds, stretching her arms above her head and making her spine crack. I really hate it when she does that. “So put on some shoes and let’s go.”

  “I don’t want to go out.” I sit up in bed and glance down at myself. Favorite faded pink T-shirt that has a hole in it, black leggings, no makeup on and my hair pulled back into a sloppy braid, I look like a train wreck.

  “We’re just going down to the field. The summer soccer league has started practicing there every Tuesday and Thursday night.”

  Hmm. Well, it is Thursday. And what’s the big deal about soccer? Blech. “Why do we want to watch them?”

  “The dudes on the summer soccer league team are hot. And they always take their shirts off halfway through practice.” Kelli grins. “So throw on some flip flops or whatever and let’s go. It’ll take your mind off your womanly problem.”

  “Fine,” I grumble as I grab my phone and stare at Shep’s text yet again. Should I answer him?

  “Just answer him,” Kelli says like the total mind reader she is.

  “What do I say?”

  “What did he say?”

  “He accused me of avoiding him.”

  “He’s right. You are avoiding him, which is silly because even though he’s a guy, of course, he knows about periods and all that stuff.” She rolls her eyes and rests her hands on her hips.

  “Yeah, he’s a guy who doesn’t know what the word commitment means so he’s probably never been with a girl long enough to have to deal with her period.” I ignore my phone and stand, slipping on my flip flops that are under my desk. I grab my small purse—the one I keep a couple of tampons in—and shove my phone inside, then sling it across my body. “I think I can get away with putting him off for the next few days.”

  “Playing hard to get does seem to work,” Kelli points out.

  “See? Then that’s what I’m doing. I’m playing hard to get.” This entire situation is ridiculous. I’m not a game player. I never have been.

  “No, you’re avoiding him because you have cramps. That’s a whole different scenario,” Kelli says. “You should take birth control pills. It would make your periods shorter and less crampy.”

  I shrug. There’s been no point. I haven’t had frequent enough sex to warrant birth control. Besides, what’s wrong with making the guy wear a condom? “Let’s just go,” I mumble, feeling grumpy. I don’t want to talk about birth control and sex. I could probably be having sex with Shep right now if I wasn’t dealing with my current issue.

  My entire body flushes hot just at the thought of being with Shep like that. Naked. Having sex…

  “Come on.” Kelli hooks her arm through mine. “Let’s go ogle hot guys without their shirts on. It’ll make you feel better.”

  “I don’t know how,” I say as she drags me out of our room.

  “Don’t you feel hornier when you’re on your period? Seeing dudes without their shirts on is just the fix you need,” Kelli informs me.

  “God, you’re gross,” I say as I start to laugh. Though she has a point. I have been feeling a little…hotter lately. I just figured it was from my constant rehashing of the kissing incident with the hottest kisser on earth. Shepard Prescott.

  If they handed out medals for kissing, he would most definitely win the top prize.

  “You won’t think I’m gross when you see those shirtless hunks out on the field. Trust me,” Kelli says firmly.

  I don’t bother to protest. I figure she’s probably right.

  I’m just sitting down on the bottom bench of the bleachers, sucking in a breath as my butt connects with the cool metal when I catch a flash of a certain someone running by. My body goes on instant high alert.

  Freaking Shep. Shirtless Shep. Running like a madman out on the field while chasing a little black and white ball Shep.

  I turn an accusatory eye on Kelli, who holds her hands up in mock innocence. “You knew he’d be here.”

  Kelli drops her hands and shrugs. “I was hoping for it.”

  “Damn it, Kell. I look like terrible.” I glance down at myself. Ah crap, my leggings have a hole in them too. Right at the knee. I feel bloated and still a little crampy. My hair is falling out of the braid slowly but surely, and my pedicure is for shit. Chipped Kiss Me I’m Brazilian coats my toes. Sort of.

  “You look fine. He won’t notice you anyway. He’s way too focused out on that field,” Kelli says nonchalantly.

  “Thanks for the uplifting speech,” I mutter as she bumps her shoulder into mine.

  “Please. You whine when you’re afraid he’ll see you, you whine when you think he won’t.” Kelli shakes her head. “Just watch him. It’s fun. Trust me.”

  “You’ve done this before?” I’m almost afraid to turn my attention back to the field. What if watching Shep run around in shorts and no shirt for too long makes me do something stupid? Like…drool?

  Hey. It could happen.

  “By complete accident. I was out here last week and stopped to watch because, hello. Who wouldn’t? While you were writhing around on the bed clutching your stomach earlier, I knew I needed to do something to help perk up your mood. I figured you might want a covert glimpse of your precious Shep, so now you’re here. You’re welcome.”

  “I didn’t say thank you.” Though I guess I should be thankful for a glimpse of shirtless Shep. I can’t even look yet, I’m so afraid I’ll be dazzled to death.

  “Well, you should because the man is a sex god. Seeing him without a shirt on makes me want to weep with joy.” She turns to stare out at the field, tipping her head to the side. “We need to figure out which one has the sexiest back. He’s a strong contender.”

  “Sexiest back?” Slowly, carefully, I turn my head, my gaze snagging on him immediately.

  Of course. It’s like I’m automatically drawn to him no matter what.

  “Mmm, hmm. Haven’t you ever noticed how sexy a man’s back is? All sleek and full of muscle and covered in smooth, smooth skin.” She sighs dreamily, her gaze riveted on the field. “They’re all contenders. Look at them.”

  I study them. Him. Damn it, just him. It’s like my eyes refuse to look at any of the others scrambling out on that field. He’s wearing black shorts that hang to his knees. That’s it. Oh, and shoes of course. But they don’t count because he’s not wearing a shirt and just like Kelli said, all I can see is sleek, smooth, smooth skin. His shoulders. His chest. His abs. Good lord, his abs. Defined with ridges of muscle and covered in the faintest sheen of sweat, accentuating every dip and curve of his body. He slows down some, resting his hands on his hips, lifting one bent arm to wipe the sweat off his brow, his hair a haphazard, damp mess.

  I clamp my lips shut hard to prevent the drooling.

  “Please tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him without a shirt on,” Kelli says out of the side of her mouth.

  “It’s the first time,” I admit, not bothering to look at her, afraid she’ll mock me.

  She sighs. “You two seriously blow my mind. Why haven’t you done it yet? This goes against every Shep is a man-whore story I’ve ever heard. And I’ve heard a lot of stories about his man-whore status.”

  I hate hearing about his man-whore status. It depresses me. He has all of this experience and I have so little. Worse, what if I don’t measure up? There’s a distinct possibility that could happen. “I don’t know what’s going on with him. And I have no clue what he wants from me.”

  He starts to jog across the field, his head turning in my direction and I shrink into myself, dropping my head, hoping he doesn’t notice me.

  “Uh oh,” Kelli murmurs and I know. I just know he spotted me.

  It’s like I can feel his gaze on me, hot and intense. Awareness prickles over my skin, making every tiny hair on my body stand on end and slowly, I lift my head to find him staring at me. His mouth curls into this half smile that’s way too fucking cute and his eyes light up as he makes his way toward where I’m sitting. I smooth a hand over my hair, tuck a few wild strands behind my ea
rs and pray to God he has a secret thing for girls who wear no makeup and holey clothes while out in public.

  He stops just in front of us, his breathing accelerated, the now familiar scent of him surrounding me and I try my best to inhale as discreetly as possible because wow, he smells good. I can actually see sweat glisten on his belly and oh my God, I think my ovaries just exploded.

  Or that could just be cramps.

  I can’t really tell.

  I couldn’t miss her if I tried. She’s the last person I expect to see sitting on the sidelines while I’m at soccer practice—shit, I don’t even think I’m going to stick around town this summer to play, though I did last year and had a blast—but there she is. You can’t hide all that glorious, vivid red hair from me. I’d know that pretty head from a mile away.

  Jade. Looking flustered with her hair falling out of a braid. I don’t think she’s wearing any makeup and her freckles really stand out against her creamy skin. Her lips are this peachy pink color that I’m dying to kiss. I can’t stop staring at her and I try to catch my breath, calm my racing heart, which had started out racing because of the exercise. But is now racing because the girl I want more than anything I’ve ever wanted before in my entire fucking life is sitting right in front of me.

  “Hey.” I take a deep breath, wipe at my forehead again with my arm. Fuck, I’m a mess. I bet I stink too. “What are you doing here?”

  “I brought her.” Her roommate sends me a serene smile and a wink, like we had this planned all along. Which we so didn’t, but now I owe her one. “She’s been grumpy lately.”

  Jade jabs her in the ribs with her elbow. “Shut up.”

  “She’s been avoiding me,” I say, deciding to just lay it all out. Fuck it. Any other girl who didn’t reply to my texts, I would’ve said good riddance. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever texted another girl much unless it’s to say the following:

  Wanna hook up?

  Got any weed?