Campus Player

by Jennifer Sucevic

  “I knew something was going to happen,” I mumble as my heart beats into overdrive, “just not that.”

  The arm wrapped around me tugs me close until I’m pressed against the steely strength of his chest. My body molds to his as I inhale a greedy lungful of him.

  He smells so damn good that my eyes nearly cross.

  Wait a minute—

  I jerk to awareness.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Please tell me that I did not sniff Rowan Michaels.

  Again.

  This is exactly why I shouldn’t have allowed him to stay. My emotions are a little too raw. A little too exposed. I’m not acting like myself. This was a mistake. One I need to rectify before it spirals any further out of control.

  Even though it’s the last thing I want to do, I jump to my feet in order to put some much-needed distance between us before pointing toward the kitchen. “I’m going to make popcorn.”

  As I scramble back a step, he reaches out, snagging my fingers with his own. The unexpected touch has my eyes widening, and my pulse skittering.

  He leans forward and a bolt of nervousness slices through me. When I try to slip free, his fingers tighten around mine. “Why are you always running away from me?”

  I gulp and force out the lie. “That’s not what I’m doing.” Even as I release the words into the atmosphere, I know he won’t believe them.

  The way Rowan’s brow arches tells me that he’s all too aware of the truth. No good will come out of this forced conversation. It’s like a capsizing ship. Someone needs to save us. When I make a second attempt at freeing myself, he tows me toward him until I have no choice but to tumble onto his lap. Air rushes from my lungs as his arms band around me, anchoring me securely in place.

  “Come on, Demi,” he says softly, warm exhalation feathering against my lips, “be honest.”

  Part of me is scared to death to admit the truth. He’s done the unexpected and found a chink in my armor. If he continues, the crack will turn into more of a gaping chasm. I can’t afford for him to wedge his way in there anymore than he already has.

  “I am being honest.” The lie sits on my tongue like bitter ashes. I’m not someone who tells falsehoods. Life seems less complicated when you stick to the truth. And yet, I can’t bring myself to do that with Rowan. I am always running away from, or at the very least, trying to avoid him. If he comes into a room, I promptly leave. If there’s a choice in where to sit, it’s as far from him as I can get. Distance is my best defense against him. This behavior was never a conscious decision on my part. It was more of an instinct.

  Self-preservation.

  The truth is that Rowan frightens me. He makes me feel things I’m not necessarily ready for. It’s been that way from the moment I laid eyes on him.

  His fingers rise, brushing the hair away from my face before tucking it gently behind my ear. A shiver of awareness scampers down my spine. Our gazes lock and hold until everything around us fades, and he’s all I’m cognizant of. The blueness of his eyes is almost hypnotic, and I find myself falling effortlessly under his spell.

  “Are you sure about that?” he asks.

  My tongue darts out to moisten parched lips. His gaze drops to the movement. When he finally meets my eyes again, there is enough heat in them to scald me alive.

  Unsure how to respond, I remain silent.

  “You’re always holding me at a distance. What are you so afraid of?”

  I have to gulp down the nerves bubbling up in my throat, threatening to choke the life out of me.

  He’s right. I am afraid. I’ve always assumed that if I held the mask firmly in place, he would never figure out my secret. But he sees right through me.

  “Tell me, Demi.” The world around us falls away. “Tell me what you’re so afraid of.”

  “You.” The admittance is a relief. It’s been there, simmering beneath the surface for years. I never realized until now how much effort it took to keep it buried deep inside where it couldn’t see the light of day.

  His lips quirk as if he doesn’t believe me. “You can’t possibly be afraid of me. You’re the most fearless person I know.”

  Laughter gurgles up in my throat.

  How can he say that?

  Maybe that’s how it appears on the outside, but that’s not how I feel deep inside. I’ve always been scared of making a mistake and fucking up. Of embarrassing my father. Or taking a chance and giving my heart to someone who will crush it. When it comes down to it, I’m a puddle of insecurities. It might not be how I project myself to the world, but it’s still the way I feel. Maybe I’m just better at faking it than other people.

  He strokes his fingers through my hair, and it’s so tempting to close my eyes and lean into him. When he touches me like this, all the noise buzzing around in my brain goes strangely silent. It’s an addictive sensation.

  “Rowan?” The husky way his name escapes from my lips sounds nothing like me.

  His gaze flicks to mine. “Yeah?”

  “What’s happening here?”

  Tension ratchets up until it reaches a fever pitch and becomes almost too much to withstand.

  “Something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

  Before I can suck in a lungful of air, his hand slides from my face to the back of my head. His fingers splay wide across my skull, cradling it in his palm. As if in slow motion, he drags me forward. My heartbeat stalls as his lips slant across mine. First one way before tilting his head the other. We fit perfectly. There are no awkward angles. No bumping of noses, mouths, or teeth. He caresses my top lip before nibbling at the bottom. A groan builds in my chest.

  When I can’t stand another moment of this sweet torture, his tongue darts out to lick at the seam of my lips. There’s only so much of the gentle yet demanding touch I can take before I capitulate, opening under the firm pressure. As soon as I give in, his tongue delves inside to tangle with my own.

  I expect his exploration to turn aggressive. Like a triumphant hero who has thrashed his opponent. Instead, his movements remain measured. Slow and languid. As if Rowan wants to take his sweet damn time to savor every single part of me. Within a heartbeat, I lose myself in the drugging caress. I don’t realize my arms have snaked around his neck until I’m pulling him closer. With a groan, he tightens his hold, pressing my body against his.

  “You taste so damn good,” he mutters before dragging me to the bottom of the ocean where rational thought becomes impossible. The only thing I’m aware of is the way his mouth coasts over mine.

  Everything about Rowan’s touch is masterful and sexy. I totally get why the girls on campus clamor for his attention. If he screws anything like he kisses—

  That thought is like a bucket of frigid water dumped over my libido.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Rowan is even more of a manwhore than Justin. Barely have I extracted myself from one shitty situation only to fling myself headfirst into another.

  No. I’m smarter than this.

  Correction...I’m usually smarter than this.

  Even though breaking physical contact is the last thing I want, my palms settle against the steely strength of his chest before pushing until our lips part, and there is enough distance between us for logic to once again rush in.

  By this point, we’re both winded. Like we’ve run a marathon. I have no idea how much time I’ve spent wrapped up in his arms. It could be hours or mere minutes. And I would be lying through my teeth if I didn’t admit that everything inside me is screaming to feel the soft slide of his lips over mine again. Never have I been kissed quite so thoroughly. And I want more of it. I want to keep reality at bay for a little longer and forget all the reasons this is a terrible idea that will come back to haunt me in the not-so-distant future.

  But I can’t do that.

  No matter how tempted I am.

  “Why did you stop?” he asks, eyes still hazy. He licks his lips, looking as if he’s a second away from delving back
in and giving us what we both want.

  “This is wrong,” I force myself to say. “It shouldn’t be happening.”

  His brow furrows. “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t be with another guy like Justin.”

  The sexual fog clouding his expression evaporates. His eyes widen in shock before disgust flashes in them. “Is that what you really think?” The chill of winter whips through his voice, turning it hard and unforgiving. “That I’m no better than Justin?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before biting out, “You should know better than that.”

  A heavy wave of guilt crashes over me. Deep down, I do realize it. But still...the guy has spent three years cultivating a certain reputation. And I’ve been burned too many times to take another chance. “Why would I know that?”

  We’ve never been friends. Not really. It’s the reason why I’ve been able to hold him at a distance with such ease and pretend we’re nothing more than strangers.

  Hurt flickers across his features.

  Even though doubt creeps in at the edges, I straighten my shoulders. There’s too much evidence for there not to be a shred of truth to it. The rumors that have swept through campus. The girls who have bragged about their sexual exploits with him. I’ve seen groupies hang on him with my own eyes. Not just one. But two or three at a time. He hasn’t exactly pushed them away. In fact, like most athletes on campus, he seems to accept the attention as if it’s his due.

  “We’ve known each other since we were fourteen years old. We eat dinner together once a week. We’ve been in the same classes since freshman year. I attend all of your home games. How can you not know me better than that?” Thick tension swirls through the air. “How can you not know who I really am?”

  For reasons I don’t quite understand, I’m loath to see him in a different light. It’s easier to cling to my perceptions rather than acknowledge that I could be wrong about him. “Why does it matter?” When I attempt to climb off his lap, his hands tighten around me.

  “Because it does. We’re going to get this out in the open once and for all. I won’t allow you to run away from me again.”

  Rowan has never frightened me, but in this moment, he does. Not because I’m afraid he’ll hurt or force me into something I don’t want. I’m terrified he’s going to rip through the last of the barriers I have in place to protect myself against him. Running and hiding is so much easier. And that’s exactly what I want to do. My fight or flight instinct has kicked in.

  “Don’t try and deny it. We both know that’s your modus operandi.” Before I can defend myself with another lie, he says, “You know me, Demi. Even though you’ve done everything in your power to pretend otherwise, you know who I am at a fundamental level. You need to think about that.”

  A thick shiver works its way through my body as everything stills. It’s as if I’m standing in the eye of a hurricane. The center is calm while everything outward is in chaos.

  When I fail to respond, he tilts his head, continuing to batter my weakened defenses. “I know things about you.”

  My mouth goes bone-dry, making it impossible to swallow. “Like what?”

  “I know you’ve been playing soccer since you were four years old, and you started travel when you were eight. Your favorite food is carbonara and eggplant parmesan. You love chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven, and your favorite place to vacation is Maui because that’s the last trip your family took before your mom decided to leave.”

  My eyes widen as my mind cartwheels.

  I’m at a loss.

  Even though Rowan has been in my life for seven years, I had no idea he was paying such close attention to the details. The realization leaves me winded as warmth reluctantly flares to life inside me.

  His face looms closer until he’s all I see. Until my world begins and ends with Rowan. “Whether you want to believe it, I know you, Demi.” He presses his palm to the middle of my chest. “I know you.”

  My heart clenches before jackhammering into overdrive.

  How did I miss all this?

  While I’ve been busy pushing him away, he’s been here, patiently waiting for me to see the real Rowan Michaels.

  And I didn’t.

  Couldn’t.

  I lift my hands until my palms can cradle his cheeks. “Tell me something no one else knows.”

  A long pause stretches between us. It’s one that leaves my nerves jangled. Just when I wonder if he’ll refuse to answer the question, he knocks me off-balance once again.

  “I’m still a virgin.”

  19

  Rowan

  A heavy silence descends as her hands fall away from my cheeks, and her eyes widen to the point of being comical. Except there’s nothing amusing about this moment. Far from it. I definitely made an error in judgment. One of epic proportions that I can’t take back. For better or worse, my secret is out there.

  Fuck.

  Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to tell her the truth?

  It takes a few heartbeats before her expression morphs into one of confusion. A frown settles on her face as she hesitantly shakes her head. “No, you’re not.”

  Relief floods through me as I consider lying.

  Almost got you! Ha, ha, ha. I’ve banged more girls than I could possibly keep track of. Just listen to all the gossip on campus. My stats with the ladies are legendary.

  But I can’t do that. I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not. More than that, I’m sick of the way Demi looks at me. Like a manwhore who is no better than that fucko Justin. The reality is that I am nothing like him. And it’s important she understands that. I want her to know me. The real me. Not the one everyone whispers about. Not the one girls make up stories about to make themselves look better. As if sleeping with me will somehow bolster their popularity.

  It’s pretty fucked.

  “It’s true, Demi. I’m a virgin.”

  Emotion crashes over her pretty face as she digests that bit of information, gradually coming to terms with it.

  Disbelief.

  Doubt.

  Astonishment.

  And finally, acceptance.

  Demi may not realize it, but her face is so damn expressive. Her thoughts are there for all to see. I always know what she’s thinking. She would hate it if I told her that. She would hate that I could read her so easily.

  “I don’t understand.” Her features contort as she shakes her head for a second time as if to clear it. “What about all the rumors?”

  This is an uncomfortable conversation I never imagined having with her. It’s tempting to bolt from the couch and out the door instead of baring my soul and exposing myself as a fraud. “That’s all they are,” I force myself to admit, “rumors.”

  She blinks a few times as those thoughts circle in her head. Understanding floods her expression as her delicate hand drifts to my cheek for a second time in a matter of minutes. It’s a rarity for her to reach out and touch me. Only now am I able to expel the air being held captive from my lungs. I squeeze my eyes shut before sinking into the warmth of her palm.

  “Thank you for telling me,” she whispers. “I appreciate you entrusting me with the truth.”

  I open my eyes and meet her steady gaze. “Honestly, it’s a relief that you know.”

  “I’m sorry you ever felt the need to hide your authentic self not only from me but the rest of the world. All this time you’ve been living a lie.”

  Well...I wouldn’t go that far.

  “It’s not really anyone else’s business.”

  “You’re right. No one should judge you.” There’s a beat of silence. “What about your teammates? Do they know?”

  My eyes widen. “Hell, no! Can you imagine their reactions?”

  “Oh, Rowan.” Sadness fills her voice before she closes the distance and presses her lips against mine in a chaste kiss. When I go to sink into the caress, she pulls away. “That must be so difficult! I wish you’d told me sooner so I coul
d have supported you through this.”

  Supported me?

  How would she have done that?

  “Huh?” My brows jerk together.

  Her other hand rises to cup the side of my face. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with being gay.”

  Of course there’s not.

  Why the hell is she bringing that—

  Wait a minute...

  She thinks I’m—

  “Demi! I’m not gay!” I bark out a disbelieving laugh. “Trust me when I say that I like women.” My gaze drops to her parted lips which are still swollen from our kisses. “A lot.”

  Her expression becomes pinched. As if I’ve confused her all over again. “I don’t understand. Then...why haven’t you had sex? Clearly you’ve had plenty of opportunities.”

  For such a smart girl, Demi can be kind of dense. Apparently, I’m going to have to spell it out for her. And here I thought revealing that I was a damn virgin would be the hardest part of the evening.

  “I’ve always had my eye on someone. Since I’ve never wanted anyone more than her,” I jerk my shoulders, “I waited.” Even as the words tumble out of my mouth, they sound absurd and farfetched. No one on campus could get laid easier than me and yet, I’ve chosen to remain celibate.

  What red-blooded, college-aged guy does that?

  None I’m acquainted with.

  Then again, I don’t exactly broadcast my status. Demi is the only person who knows I’m a virgin. It’s always been a well-kept secret. Not one I’m ashamed of, but still...

  Our gazes cling as the tension simmering in the air ratches up a couple hundred notches. Demi becomes perfectly still as she sits perched on my lap. My hands fasten around her waist to keep her in place. Now that I’ve made the big reveal, I’m half-afraid it’ll be too much for her to take in, and she’ll bolt.

  When I can’t stand another moment of the suffocating silence that blankets us, I blurt, “Aren’t you going to ask who the girl is?”

  She shakes her head, and all of the hope rising inside me bursts like an overinflated balloon before crashing back to earth with a painful thud. Not only have I made it obvious that I have feelings for her. I told her I’m a virgin.