All Played Out (Rusk University #3) (3 page)

“At least she knows who I am,” he says. “None of you suckers are that important.”

I survey the rest of the group, and slowly try to guess which person goes with which description. The girl with red hair is the most obvious. There’s a tall, attractive guy with an arm looped over her shoulders, and they’re clearly the nucleus of the group.

I point at them. “Dallas and Carson.” The guy I deemed to be Carson raises his eyebrows in surprise. There’s only one other girl present, a petite Asian with dark hair cut and shaped around a pretty face. “You must be Stella.” She smiles and points a finger at the curly-haired guy close to her. She mouths, “Ryan.” I nod and take her hint, pointing him out, too. Next up is the guy I saw naked in my kitchen just a few days ago. That’s one face I’m not going to forget anytime soon. “That’s Silas, which means . . .” I face the last unidentified guy. He’s a large black guy with sculpted muscles and a symmetrical face. I get what Dylan said about him being the hardest to pin down. But he’s looking at me with a calculating expression that reminds me of myself, and I smile. “And you’ve got to be Isaiah Brookes.”

Torres whistles and draws my attention back to him, “How come you know his full name?”

I shrug.

He hops down from where he’s sitting on top of the picnic table and meets me in a few long strides. He loops an arm around my shoulders as if he’s known me for years instead of minutes, and suddenly I’m pressed up close and personal to the hardest body I’ve ever touched in real life. In fact, the closest I’ve ever come to someone this defined is one of those CPR dummies that are made of metal and rubber and plastic.

Torres says, “Forget having her on my team. I want her on my homework. She’s a genius or something.”

“Or she saw a picture of us,” Brookes says, his gaze still assessing.

Torres asks Dylan, “Did you show her our pictures, Captain Planet? I hope you got a good one of me.”

“Actually, I told her you were flashy and shameless. She put together who you were all on her own.”

The laughter that follows Dylan’s announcement is even louder than before, and it lasts for several long seconds. My eyes flit around the group as they laugh, and I try to take in all the dynamics at work, but my thoughts unravel completely when I feel hot breath against my ear, and then what must be lips brushing my skin as Torres asks, “What’s your name?”

It has to be autopilot that has me answering because all my conscious thoughts are too wrapped up in this body that’s crowded too close to mine, and how warm he is, and the faint scent of something citrus-y and woodsy that comes from his skin.

“Nell.”

“Nell what?”

I pause. I still don’t want to be called by my last name.

“Just Nell.”

“Well, just Nell. I’m Mateo.”

His lips keep barely brushing against the shell of my ear, and the heat of his breath tickles, and I can already feel my face flushing hot. And who gets this close to a complete stranger?

Boundaries. Seriously.

I shrug his arm from my shoulders and say the first thing that comes to my mind. “I’m supposed to stay away from you.”

I sound crazy. And like a child frightened of a stranger trying to offer me candy, but as nonsensical as it seems, that’s how I feel. All my senses are on high alert, and the hairs on my forearms are raised, and my breaths are coming faster than they should be considering all I’m doing is standing still.

I feel like prey.

And all he’s doing is smiling at me. And it’s a smile that tells me he has exactly zero intentions of putting any distance between us.

Just then a slim, shorter black guy comes jogging up and says, “Hey. Sorry I’m late, McClain.” When he’s standing a few feet away, I amend my description to
less tall
. He might not be as towering as the boundary-defying guy beside me, but he’s still big.

Carson, the one Dylan called the leader of the group and the apparent owner of the last name
McClain
, steps up and says, “No worries. We didn’t give you much notice.” He introduces the new guy as Keyon, and then introduces me and Dylan in turn. I guess Keyon must know everyone else. Then Carson adds, “And that puts us at an even ten. So we can pick teams and get going.”

Torres raises his hand. “I’ll be team captain.”

His proclamation makes my stomach tumble with nerves, and I’m not sure why.

Carson pauses for a moment and then shrugs. “Fine. You and Brookes are probably the fastest. So you can be captains.”

They flip a coin, and Brookes gets first pick. I expect him to pick one of the guys. They’re the obvious choice. As football players, they’re in shape and more naturally athletic. But he fixes his eyes on me for the briefest moment before turning to Torres, his gaze narrowed. He looks at me again.

“Your name is Nell?” he asks.

There’s something about him that feels simultaneously commanding and trustworthy, almost soothing. If he looks at me like that too much longer, I might just tell him my full name, birth date, Social Security number, and anything else he wants to know.

Instead, I nod.

He raises an eyebrow at Torres and says, “I’ll take Nell.”

Chapter 3

Mateo

A
h, damn it all to hell. It’s like Zay lives to ruin all my fun. I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what exactly his deal is. I survey Nell as she leaves me. She’s pretty. No denying that. Short with curves that could kill. Long dark hair and smooth olive skin. And she’s shy.

Don’t ask me why, but I’ve always had a thing for the shy ones. I like being the one to break them out of their shell.

Does Brookes want her, too? Is that what this is about? Or does he just not want me to have her? Probably the second one. I can imagine his lecture already.

No hitting on Dylan’s friends. When you inevitably piss them off or break their heart, you’ll piss off the whole group.

I’m not an idiot. I’m not gonna fuck with Dylan’s friend because then I’ll have Dylan’s boyfriend on my ass. And Silas Moore is not a pleasant person to live with when his girlfriend is unhappy. But that doesn’t mean I can’t flirt with her. I
do
know how to draw the line, contrary to popular opinion.

Well, just because Brookes has a chivalrous stick up his ass doesn’t mean I have to play stupid. I’m not gonna pick another girl just to make things fair.

“Silas,” I say.

“Dylan,” Brookes chooses.

She blinks a few times before crossing to stand by Brookes and her friend. She says, “I do believe that’s the first time I’ve ever not been picked last for this kind of thing.”

I look at him, wondering exactly what he’s playing at.

I choose McClain. He chooses Dallas.

And then I get it.

He’s going to use the girls to distract my guys.

Sneaky little fucker.

Well, two can play at that game.

“Stella,” I say.

She sighs and gives me a look. “Wrong move, Torres. Wrong move.”

Brookes picks Keyon next, which is what I should have done. He’s not part of our regular crowd. He’s not going to get distracted by anyone. Damn it. That leaves me with Ryan. He says, “Sure. Pick the manager last. I get it.”

Stella shrugs. “You’re not a college athlete. Nor do you have boobs. You were always going to be last. Suck it up.”

My team gathers behind me, and I take a moment to survey our opponents. Brookes, Keyon, and three gorgeous girls, two of whom are dating my two best picks.

Fuck
.

As soon as we huddle up to talk strategy, Silas says, “I’m guarding Dylan.”

I barely have time to open my mouth before Carson adds, “And I’ve got Dallas.”

“Aw, come on, guys. You’re doing exactly what Brookes wants you to do.”

Silas shrugs. “No one else is getting close enough to my girl to play one-on-one defense. Sorry.”

“What he said,” Carson adds.

I sigh. “Unbelievable. Is this some kind of disease? Like you tap one girl long enough, and it somehow warps your brain? We’re
athletes
. You’re supposed to care about being competitive.”

Silas says, “I care about seeing Dylan in a pair of tiny shorts. Those are my priorities at the moment.”

Unfuckingbelievable.

“Fine. I’ll cover Brookes. Ryan, you cover Keyon. And Stell, you get girl genius.”

That’s the best we’re going to do.

We have to wait while Brookes explains the rules to Nell, and I take a moment to talk strategy with my team. I look at McClain and Moore and say, “You two. No taking it easy on your girlfriends. Don’t let them get past you just because you think you won’t get laid tonight if you don’t.”

That only gets me a sarcastic reply of “Sure, Coach.”

Brookes got first choice, so my team takes the disc first. Predictably, Brookes’s team is playing man-to-man defense, and he’s got the girls matched up with their boyfriends. It’s clear within seconds that those girls are willing to play dirty. Technically, Ultimate is a no-contact sport, and you can call foul if things go too far.

McClain and Moore certainly aren’t calling foul when their girls make contact. I make a short pass to Ryan, who just barely manages to catch it before Keyon goes sailing past him trying to knock the disc to the ground. I take off running, but Brookes is hot on my heels. I pivot and change directions a few times, trying to shake him off, but he stays too close. The rules of the game dictate that you can’t run with the disc, so Ryan’s stuck where he is until someone from our team gets open enough for him to make a throw.

He flicks his wrist, sending the disc sailing toward McClain, and I watch with dawning horror as Dallas slips in front of him and intercepts the disc.

The game continues in that vein for the next five minutes, and we’re down three to zero when Stella calls a time-out.

“Hey,” I say. “I’m the captain. I call the time-outs.”

“Yeah, well, we’re getting our asses kicked, Captain.”

No arguing with that.

Stella stands with her hands on her hips, and even sweaty, she looks pretty. How do girls always do that?

“Let me guard Keyon,” she says.

“Why? No offense, gorgeous, but he’s a lot faster than you.”

“He’s faster than Ryan, too. And like I said . . . only one person on this team has boobs.”

“Absolutely not,” Ryan cuts in.

Stella rolls her eyes. “Come on. He’s a freshman. I’ll do a little flirting. Maybe a little pouting about how hard the game is. He’ll be an easy mark.”

Ryan glares. “You don’t have to throw yourself at him for some stupid game.”

She ignores him and looks at me. “What do you say, Captain?”

Ryan crosses his arms over his chest and directs his angry stare at me. I’m not sure whether his pissy mood is just because he’s got a thing for Stella and doesn’t want her flirting with another guy, or if his protectiveness has more to do with what happened at that frat party a few weeks ago. I don’t know the specifics. Stella certainly doesn’t talk about what happened, and I know Silas and Dylan are the ones who found her passed out in a room after she was left there by one of the guys on the team. Silas fought with the guy, Jake Carter, and I got to the scene around the same time as the cops. Carter has since been kicked off the team, but he hasn’t been arrested, and he’s still enrolled in classes. I’ve heard a lot of speculation about what happened in that room and afterward and what will happen next from people on campus, but no one here has said a word about it. Not to me anyway.

No one ever comes to me for serious conversations. I shake off the slight sting that thought causes. It’s not like I
want
serious. I spend most of my time making it abundantly clear to everyone that my name doesn’t even belong in the same sentence as that word.

But for a moment I wish that people trusted me a little more. Then I’d know if letting Stella flirt with Keyon is a bad idea. From the way everyone else tiptoes around her, I assume that some serious shit went down. But at the same time . . . Stella acts like nothing has changed. I might not be trusted with everyone’s secrets, but I do know Stella well enough to know that she doesn’t take well to other people telling her what to do. If she wants to guard Keyon, who am I to tell her no? Silas and Carson are staying silent on the matter, so I’m guessing they don’t want to get in the middle of it either.

I meet her determined gaze and nod. Ryan curses, and I say, “It can’t hurt to try. If it doesn’t work or you want to switch back, Stella, all you have to do is say so.”

She smiles sweetly in return and says, “You guys can thank me now.”

A few minutes of flirting later, and suddenly Keyon decides he’d rather guard Stella than Ryan. While Nell is scrambling trying to figure out who she’s supposed to be on, Ryan scores our first point of the game.

Next time around, Brookes tries to help her pick up the slack, but he can’t help her with Ryan and successfully cover me at the same time. Carson puts his flirting on pause long enough to zip one high and long in my direction. I sprint under it, crossing into the end zone. Brookes is a few feet back, and I make a diving catch to put us within one.

Brookes calls a time-out, and while they talk I fold Stella into a sweaty hug.

“Have I told you how awesome you are?”

She shrugs. “I can always stand to hear it a few more times a day.”

“Well, you’re awesome.” Her smile looks easy, genuine. Until, that is, I spend a few seconds too long staring and assessing it, then her posture goes rigid, and I step back and avert my eyes before I do something to piss her off.

When we come out of the huddle, I’m too confident.

A habit of mine.

Dallas and Dylan toss the disc back and forth a few times, and I groan when Carson and Silas make no effort to intercept or knock down the pass. I’m pretty sure it’s a distraction, so I stick tight to Brookes, and I notice Ryan edging closer to me, too. He must have the same idea.

Next thing I know, Dallas has sent the disc soaring over our heads, and when I look, Nell is standing alone, completely unguarded in the end zone.