Page 7 of Running Play (Gods of Campus #1)

Shelby

The music pours out of the house and down the pathway as we approach the large, two-story building.

Large is probably doing it an injustice, this place is a mansion!

I’m still getting used to such gorgeous homes being lived in by a bunch of college students and used to host frat parties.

Groups of students are broken into small groups scattered over the front lawn as we hear a whistle from a guy standing with three other males.

Our heads turn, and a quiet reassurance settles in as Letti lifts a hand in greeting.

“Travis’s teammates,” she says, leaning toward me.

“Oh.”

“Damn, Letti!” one of the guys says, giving her an appreciative look with a slow shake of his head.

“Where is he?” she smiles back to the guy.

“Game room, ground floor at the back of the house,” he nods toward the house.

She waves back in thanks as we make our way up the front stairs and through the front door.

The heat from the house full of people has me instantly thankful I chose shorts and not jeans.

A group of guys about to exit nearly crash into us as we enter, one checking Letti out with an appreciative eye and drunken swagger.

He’s clearly already having a great time as he stumbles closer to Letti, but a firm hand grasps his shoulder.

“Nope!” his friend says, grabbing at him and steering him toward the exit. “Not that one, man, that’s Chapman’s girl…you want your teeth on the end of a hockey stick?”

He glances quickly back to Letti. “My bad,” he slurs, holding his hands up as he sways in defense.

I hide my laugh at the drunk guy’s reaction.

I guess being the girlfriend of a hockey player makes you well known around here.

Travis is popular, super friendly, and just an all-around nice guy, so no surprise they know Letti.

My body hums from the warmth of the people around me and the alcohol coursing through my veins.

I feel relaxed, at ease, surrounded by movement.

Some might hate the cramped feeling, but to me, it’s comforting.

Justin tried so hard to keep me away from my friends and family.

We never double dated or hung out with friends, just us…

always just us. Enjoy it, I tell myself.

My first frat party. One of many firsts.

Focusing on me, on this new life. I take it all in, my eyes scanning the crowd as I follow Letti deeper into the chaos.

“Have you been here before?” I yell over the crowd and music.

“Once, last year with Travis,” she says, her hair flicking over her shoulder as she looks back toward me. “This was the one and only frat party I had time to attend last year.”

I nod as we enter a smaller room, a large pool table in the middle. Chairs line the edge of the room as a guy leans down and snaps his shot, landing it in the pocket closest to us.

“Letti,” I hear Travis call. He spots her straight away, like his body has been positioned watching the door, waiting for her to enter.

He pushes past the group of guys that he stands with, coming to greet us and wrapping Letti in a hug and kiss.

He leans back to take her in, frowning and talking in a low voice.

“Couldn’t you have worn something else…a burlap sack, perhaps?

What happened to the hoodie we discussed?

” But he smiles down at her in a playful way.

She wraps her arms around his neck. “Maybe next time,” she says as she gently presses her lips back to his.

“You look way too good, baby,” he says, burying his head into her neck.

“Always for you, my love, only you,” she whispers to him, just loud enough that I can hear how perfect they are together.

Slowly he breaks away and turns to me. “You’re going to keep me busy tonight, aren’t you, Shelby? My middleman role is going to double,” he says, casting an eye over me.

The alcohol, mixed with Travis’s words, boosts my confidence as I place my hands on my hips and pose for him. Letti lets out a low whistle .

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Travis laughs.

“Hey, Letti,” the guys say in greeting, one of them grabbing her in a hug. Then their eyes move toward me. Some of them I know, some of them I haven’t yet met.

“Guys, this is Shelby, Letti’s roommate. Hands off,” he points around the circle.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” a tall guy with shaggy, sandy blonde hair holds out his hands. “Can I at least get the girls a drink?” He looks at us as we both nod in response.

“Shelby, would you like to join me?” he asks, holding both of his hands up in line with his chest. “No touching, I promise.”

“Sure,” I say, moving out of Travis’s protective bubble.

“I’m Kadel,” he says, coming to stand near me. He’s tall and lanky but still looks like an athlete. He walks a larger-than-needed circle around me, his hands still up in the air. “See, Chapman, I got this, man, no touching.”

Travis simply shakes his head, watching us leave as he rests his hands on Letti’s waist, hugging her from behind as she talks among the group.

I fall in step with Kadel as we head back out of the room, his arms slowly dropping to his side. “Freshman?”

“Yeah, just got here,” I say, stopping to let a guy into the room before I exit. Even though it’s a large doorway, the crowd of people isn’t making it easy to enter and exit. “No touching!” he yells at the guy .

“Jesus,” I jump, clutching at my chest.

The guy looks up to Kadel in shock. “Crap, Kadel, you scared the shit outta me, bro.”

People stop to watch the outburst, and I don’t know whether to laugh at his behavior or cry from embarrassment.

“No touching,” he repeats to the random guy. He turns back to Travis. “See, I got this, Chapman, no touching.” Travis frowns, shaking his head at his mockery and turns back to his friends.

“No one’s going to listen to Travis anyway, are they?” I ask, trailing him out of the game room.

He leads the way to a corner of the main space, where a makeshift bar is set up. Bottles lined like trophies, mixers half-used, ice melting in a plastic tub. He throws a grin over his shoulder, and that’s when I catch it, a missing tooth, probably earned courtesy of a flying puck.

“Hell no,” he says, flashing that gap-toothed smile. “Merrick’s Captain he’s got the clout, and you? You’re not anyone’s little sister here.” His hazel eyes gleam with mischief.

Then, already pivoting to play bartender, he says, “All right—what’s your poison?”

Even after five minutes, I can tell he’s the kind of guy who’d wear embarrassment like a badge if it meant making someone laugh. A larrikin like we say back home: loud, loose, and born to be center stage.

I glance at the bottles. “We started with vodka—may as well finish what we began.

“Two vodkas coming up! ”

I cast my eye around the ice buckets. “And pineapple, please,” I add, grabbing the juice from the bucket.

He nods at my choice as he flicks the bottle of vodka, making it spin in the palm of his hand.

He grabs two cups, adding ice into it while the bottle still spins.

He stops the bottle and starts to pour the vodka and pineapple juice at the same time.

Clearly, he has done this before. “Here you go, two spiky vodkas.”

“Thank you.”

He makes himself a bourbon, and then we shuffle away from the table, allowing others to get to the refreshments.

The music is loud, but not as loud as the front of the house where the speakers and dance floor are set up.

Not that it stops small groups of people from dancing as they laugh and talk among each other.

Outside, under the lights of the patio, I can see a competitive game of beer pong going on.

It’s drawn a small crowd as people laugh and drink from their red plastic cups.

“Shall we,” he gestures with his hands.

I smile and nod my head in agreement as we make our way back into the game room.

Letti smiles as we approach, taking her drink from my hand.

“All returned safely and untouched,” Kadel smiles to Travis.

“Glad you took my instructions seriously.”

“Of course, handled as delicately as a new car leaving the lot.”

Travis shakes his head at Kadel .

“Oh, I’m up,” Letti says. “Do you want to play?” she points toward the pool table as the last couple pass her a cue stick.

“I don’t know how to play,” I reply.

She raises her brow and swallows her drink, then passes a cue to Travis. “What? I thought hanging out at pubs, wrestling crocodiles, and playing pool was an Australian way of life?”

I tap my chin. “Hmm, must have missed that day at school.”

“Neglected childhood.”

“Clearly.”

She rubs blue chalk at the end of her cue. “Well, allow me and Travis to teach you how it’s done.”

“Oh, she’s confident,” I say through sips of my drink.

She pops her hip, then starts to walk around the pool table, leaning down to line up the white ball. “Yep.” She winks as she cracks the ball, sinking a yellow-colored ball into a pocket.

Leaning against the wooden frame, I brush my thumbs over the blue felt. “Nice shot,” I say as my eyes follow the balls dancing around the table. I push off the table as Travis examines his choices.

“I’ll be right back, just gotta go to the bathroom. Where are they?” I ask.

“Upstairs,” Travis points. “Just look for the line of drunk girls leaning up against the wall and trying to fix their makeup.”

I nod. “Won’t be long.”

“Yes, you will.” Travis drawls.

** *

I focus on my surroundings, letting the music guide me toward the front of the house.

Weaving past the dance floor, I turn toward the staircase, glancing across the open space where the kitchen and dining room connect.

The room is massive, filled with a large wooden table and about twenty chairs.

It’s an open space that joins the kitchen; both areas filled with students drinking and laughing.

Standing to one side of the dining room table and spilling into the kitchen is a large group of football players.

Among them is someone very familiar, and even though I don’t see his face, I recognize the hair, and instantly my heart begins to quicken.

He’s here, and damn if his presence doesn’t make my stomach flip.

Grabbing the railing, I make my way up the stairs, finding the fortunately short line to the bathroom.

After finishing the last of the drink in my hand while I waited for my turn, I then use the facilities, wash my hands, and study my reflection.

Makeup is on point, hair is in place, slight buzz from the alcohol, and safely surrounded by a sea of student bodies.

I ponder seeing Christian, do I dare say hi?

Following some chatty girls as I walk back down the stairs, thankful for my modest heels.

I notice that the staircase has a great view of the large living room slash makeshift dance floor and front door.

The dance area is packed with people. It’s dark with only the disco ball and strobe lighting reflecting off the dancing bodies.

A dry ice machine pumps out in waves, keeping the moving bodies cool, and allowing a blanket of privacy for all the roaming hands.

Just turn right, I instruct my body as my feet find the bottom step.

I don’t let my mind catch up, I turn without thinking.

You don’t have to talk to him. Let’s be honest, that was never going to happen.

But walking past? That’s doable. Maybe he’ll stop you.

If he doesn’t? Fine. Kitchen. Get water.

Keep walking. You’re not avoiding him. You’re just.. . thirsty . Yes. Very thirsty.

I keep my head down until I enter the dining room, gaining some courage to look up, and there he is.

That bright smile and white teeth flashing as he laughs with his teammates.

He looks so cool, calm, and confident, the world is his oyster.

So good looking with a clean-shaven jaw, he sits perched on a bar stool, his long legs in blue shorts and his strong arms in a dark gray V-neck shirt.

He’s not wearing a hat, and his dusty brown hair is untamed and like a model on a photoshoot, falls effortlessly into place.

I spent an hour getting ready tonight, he probably jumped in the shower, threw on whatever was clean… and looks like that .

He’s holding a beer in one hand while the other rests comfortably on the lower hip of an exquisite female who sits perched in his lap. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was a young Megan Fox.

She sips slowly from a bottle of water, then laughs at something someone in the group says. Wearing a blue jean denim mini skirt, black top, and black knee boots, she is gorgeous .

I begin to panic and I’m no longer walking, instead just standing there.

Staring. My eyes shoot around the room, but I notice Christian’s head slowly turns toward me and my face freezes on him as his eyes rake over my body.

Well, shit. Fuck. I didn’t plan for this.

Is it hot in here? Like really hot? My body sweats as my liquid courage peels away from my skin and drips onto the hardwood floor.

I take a timid step backward. Hot, hot, hot, hot—quick, someone throw a bucket of water on me so I can melt into the floor and disappear .

I’m frozen as his eyes study me. Flashing him with a quick smile, I watch the corner of his mouth turn up into a mischievous smirk.

Is he reading my mind? Does he know I came this way just to see him?

A gentle hand reaches out and finds mine. It startles me, but I don’t pull away. “You good?” Kadel asks.

Smiling up to him, our hands link, I’m relieved that he just saved me from this awkward moment.

“I need a drink and to dance,” I say up to him.

He wraps his arm around my waist, turning us out of the room, my body pressed against him as he leads the way.

Thoughts of embarrassment and self-doubt conflict with the alcohol that once pumped me up.

How quickly the mindset can change, but this won’t ruin my night, I won’t let it.

Besides, the last person who needs a guy in their life right now is probably me.

I shake it off, allowing Kadel to make me another drink as I forget all about Christian Stone.