Playmaker, p.1
Playmaker, page 1
Contents
Playlist
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Acknowledgments
About the Author
To those standing in their own way.
It gets better.
Playlist
Nonsense
Sabrina Carpenter
Wine Into Whiskey
Tucker Wetmore
Different
Joshua Bassett
For Tonight
Giveon
Back to Friends
Lauren Spencer Smith
Whiskey Glasses
Morgan Wallen
Slow It Down
Benson Boone
One
Maddie
I just need to study.
That’s all I need to do.
But how on earth am I supposed to do that with all that racket going on downstairs?
Slamming the textbook in front of me closed, I move to the window and part the blinds to observe the party going on below. With my parents away for their annual anniversary trip, my brother decided to throw a spring break extravaganza now that we’re back from our respective colleges, but with the noise they’re producing, I wouldn’t be surprised if our neighbors tell our parents when they return, or worse, call the cops.
I don’t understand how Ethan has even stayed in contact with the friends he used to associate with in high school. Since I graduated, the only person I’ve stayed close to has been Maya, but she’s my best friend. The people I did lab projects with and spoke to during lunch were always kept in the background, and I was fine with that. If I had fewer people to hang out with, it allowed me more time to study. After all, I didn’t get into Briarwood—the best pre-med school in the country—by smoking blunts and getting trashed every weekend like some people.
A shrill laugh echoes from the patio below, and I roll my eyes when I spot a girl draped across my brother’s lap. Her hands are running through his hair, and she seems to cling to every word he says like it’s the last time she’ll ever hear him relay some irrelevant story about his glory days on the high-school football team.
Unlike me, my brother decided to attend community college until he figures out what he wants to do with his life, and while there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s days like this that I wish he’d grow the hell up already and focus on building his future rather than groping a random girl’s ass.
He could have gone far with football. He was great at it. If he had just taken the scholarship he was offered, he might have been as good as—
No.
Absolutely not.
Despite my best efforts, my eyes stray to the guy sitting beside my brother, and I attempt to fight the surge of butterflies dancing in my stomach. Cameron Holden, also known as my brother’s best friend, is the epitome of a fuckboy. He’s red flag central, and personally, I think he should wear a warning label every time he leaves his house.
Cameron got into West Bridge for football, and he’s already their star player, even if it’s only his junior year. Everyone predicts he’ll make it to the NFL, and maybe that’s what makes him so conceited. Whatever the reason, Cameron thinks he’s the greatest thing to walk the planet, but I’m always first in line to remind him that he’s not.
The Cameron I used to know, back when he and my brother were kids, was much cooler than the version he transformed into once he hit high school. The nerd with glasses who was obsessed with collecting Pokémon cards was my first crush. I drew hearts with his name in them in all my diaries, and when I went to sleep, I’d dream of a life where he’d fall for me, too, and all the conversations we had when my brother wasn’t around didn’t make just me giddy and feel as if I was on cloud nine, but him as well.
There was a time when I thought we were more than friends until . . .
No.
I will not think about that day.
After he basically exiled me from his life, I felt embarrassed to admit I ever felt that way about Cameron, and when I get these random twinges of butterflies, I do everything in my power to shut them down. My heart doesn’t seem to realize he isn’t the same boy he used to be, or maybe it’s reacting due to the science of attraction.
Any normal person would see Cameron on the street and fall head over heels for him. He’s six three and ripped, with facial features that could have been chiseled by Michelangelo himself and a smile that could rival the hottest of deserts here in Arizona. Who wouldn’t want to jump his bones? It’s natural to want to pry his hand off the breast of the girl he’s currently groping and place it on mine instead.
At least, that’s what I try to convince myself.
The bass of the music gets louder, drawing me from my thoughts.
Doesn’t Ethan realize I have the MCATs to study for? Since I’m only a freshman, I can’t take the test until next spring, but I don’t care. Every moment counts, and I had planned to keep myself holed up in my room the entirety of spring break to take advantage of no distractions.
Clearly, that isn’t going to happen.
With an annoyed huff I leave my room in just a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, ignoring the fact that I look like a bum as I head downstairs and throw open the sliding door to the patio.
Ethan glances in my direction with a beer in hand, seemingly amused by the expression on my face. “Yes, Maddie?”
“I’m trying to study!” I attempt to yell over the music. As soon as the sentence leaves my lips, I realize how insane I sound. We all just got finished with finals for the semester, so the next two weeks should be time to wind down and celebrate.
The girls I’ve never met before snicker in the background, but I ignore them and keep my eyes on my brother.
“Why don’t you have a drink?” Ethan suggests. He reaches over to grab one from the cooler and passes it to me, and I hate how the object feels cold and unfamiliar in my hand. “It’s spring break, Maddie. Emphasis on break. Stop being such a bore all the time.”
The girl sprawled across his lap bites her lip to keep herself from laughing, and it only fuels my anger. I don’t like parties. I never have. At least not now, at this point in my life. My only goal is to become a doctor, and achieving that requires an immense amount of focus. I’ll have time for partying and getting shit-faced after I graduate medical school.
“Mads has always been a bore.” Cameron’s emerald-green eyes glisten with humor, and damn him, his use of the nickname he gave me in middle school makes my heart falter for a beat. He arches a perfectly formed brow as he awaits my answer, almost like a challenge, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me riled up. He doesn’t get that privilege. Not anymore.
With a roll of my eyes I dismiss him completely and turn my attention back to Ethan. “I’m just asking if you can turn the music down. That’s it.”
Before my brother can reply, Cameron clears his throat, and I can’t help but wonder if my lack of attention is bothering him. I briefly glance his way, immediately cursing my urge to do so when he winks and opens his long, muscular legs wider in the chair. His lap looks inviting as hell, and the girl who left to get a drink moments ago seems to think the same. She plops her ass down in the spot I refuse to look at and hooks her arms around his neck.
Gross.
“What, you want to join too?” Cameron asks me with a devilish grin. “There’s enough room for both of you.”
Just like that any attraction that tried to crawl its way into my body evaporates instantly. It doesn’t matter if Cameron looks like a movie star. Moments like these are a constant reminder that he isn’t who he used to be, and although he has his reasons, they aren’t enough for me to look past his repulsive displays of arrogance.
“Cameron, that’s my sister,” Ethan warns him.
The belly laugh Cameron gives in response shouldn’t make my stomach twist into knots and bile rise in my throat, but it does. “Relax,” he reassures Ethan. “I’d never go for Mads. She’s like my sister too.”
More snickers erupt from the two girls I’m seconds away from strangling, but thankfully Ethan shifts uncomfortably in his chair and sends me a look as if to say, I’m sorry about him.
There’s not a single excuse in the book he can give for Cameron’s behavior anymore. I used to listen to them and hold on to the hope that he would change, but Cameron has proven time and time again that he doesn’t plan on overcoming the hurt he experienced after his mother’s deat h. Instead, he let it fester and grow like weeds that I swear changed the chemical makeup of his brain. Ethan stuck by his side because Cameron’s his best friend, and I did, too, until Cameron all but told me to get lost.
“I’ll turn it down.” Ethan relents. “It’s fine.”
For a moment there’s a flicker of emotion in Cameron’s eyes. I get the strange sensation that he might apologize, but then the music quiets, cutting off whatever moment we might have shared.
I can lie all I’d like, but deep down I’m hurt that he changed. I was certain he’d mature and grow out of this playboy phase, and then. . . . Well, I never let myself get that far into the future. My hopes would only be crushed for the millionth time, and even if he did mature and become more like the boy I used to know, my brother would be furious if he made a move on me.
I’d never go for Mads. She’s like my sister too.
With his words playing like a broken record, I storm back into the house in a wave of fury. I’m too pissed off to focus on studying now. Instead, all I can think of are the fleeting moments Cameron and I have shared over the years. From him consoling me when I fell off my bike in the third grade to our moment at Myrtle Beach together on my family’s annual spring break vacation six years ago. It was the summer before he started high school, right before his mom passed. I convinced him to sneak out onto the beach while everyone was sleeping, and that night I swore he had been about to kiss me. I wonder if he would have if that wave hadn’t interrupted us, and if he hadn’t become a different person a week later, I might have asked.
But those memories are exactly what they are—memories. At some point I have to let go and move on.
With a reluctant sigh I peel the blinds back to take one final look at the man who never seems to leave my thoughts.
It’s only going to be this way for the next two weeks. Then we’ll head back to our schools and I won’t have to be reminded of the past like a knife to the chest.
The girl who was in his lap has moved, and as much as I want to look away from his gray sweatpants, I can’t. The bulge there is huge. It’s outlined like a piece of candy begging to be unwrapped, and I’m the idiot salivating over it.
I knew I shouldn’t have looked. I avoided it for a reason, and—
Oh fuck.
I guess I’m not the only one plagued by memories.
The moment I drag my eyes to his, they’re already locked on mine, and that same flicker of emotion in them downstairs comes back full force.
Any walls I built around my heart shatter with hardly any effort at all. With a single look Cameron can break through my defenses, and judging by the cocky grin that falls over his face, he knows it too.
And that’s all the information I need to realize that this will be an excruciating two weeks.
Two
Cameron
What is Little Miss Goody Good focusing so intently on?
We’ve been having a staring contest through her bedroom window for what feels like an eternity, but I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from the way her cheeks turned a rosy pink and her lips parted, and how she looked curious as hell when I caught her staring at my half-hard cock.
Maddie is the one to blame for this. What the hell was she thinking coming downstairs without a bra on? I’m not blind, but I didn’t get enough warning to avert my gaze in time before she threw open the sliding door with her tits practically falling out.
I’ve become very skilled at ignoring Maddie’s tits, curves, and well, basically every feature of hers that seemed to become enhanced once she got into high school. She’s Ethan’s little sister, and even though she’s only two years younger than us, it still feels wrong to be lusting after her. If Ethan knew I even once imagined Maddie bouncing on my cock, I’m positive I wouldn’t have a cock anymore.
Yet I still do it. There are too many times to count when I’ve jerked off to the thought of her.
And now I’m bordering on full-on hard with images of curly blond hair and blue eyes heavy lidded with ecstasy as I fill her.
Christ.
I need to get a grip.
Thankfully Sadie falls into my lap, a welcome distraction. I’ve been drinking too much tonight, but Sadie has only had one beer. I don’t ask questions when she attaches her lips to my neck and runs her hand down my chest, but my eyes stray to the window upstairs again where Maddie is watching the scene unfold.
I thought she had to study?
The woman never leaves her room whenever I’m home from college. It’s rare we’re both home at the same time, but springtime is the exception, given the fact that I’ve never missed a Davis spring break vacation. Their family treated me as their own after my mom’s passing. I still have my dad, but nowadays he seems to be more concerned with business trips and my future career than with me.
In high school I was alone at home more than half the time, and when Ethan discovered that, he urged me to stay with them when my dad was away, so I did. Maddie’s parents, Richard and Mary, never questioned me staying at their house more than mine. After all, my mom and Mary were best friends, so Mary took me in with open arms. Although she’s never said she disapproves of my father’s decisions, I still see her look of disappointment whenever I talk about him.
Sadie giggles when her hand brushes my hard cock, bringing me back to the present. “Is that really all it took? Some neck kisses?”
Little does she know that she is not the reason for my case of blue balls. The person responsible for that has left the window, leaving me a view of boring white blinds.
I refuse to think about Maddie Davis. Her family is like my own. I consider Ethan to be my brother. Having dirty thoughts about her isn’t going to make the annual vacation next weekend any easier.
I clear my throat to gain Ethan’s attention, and we know each other well enough by now to understand what the other is saying without having to say anything at all. He jerks his head to the sliding door and says, “Guest bedroom.”
Thank fuck.
Rising from the chair, I hold my hand out to Sadie, unsurprised when she takes it without hesitation. She’s been in my DMs for a month now, asking when I’ll be home from college, and the pictures she’s sent me haven’t been innocent by any means. She knew what I wanted the second I invited her here, and she isn’t complaining.
When we get to the correct room Sadie tugs me in by the hem of my T-shirt and presses her lips to mine. I don’t bother turning on the lights, and I can try to reassure myself it’s just because I’m lazy, but that’s not the case at all. The darkness allows me to imagine blond curls when I tug on Sadie’s red ones. It allows me to fantasize soft, supple curves rather than Sadie’s thin frame. The girl I’m hooking up with right now is beautiful, but she’s not her.
When I’m away at college I don’t have this issue. I’m able to forget about Maddie for a while. I don’t picture her leaving my living room bawling when I told her to get out. She was trying to comfort me after my mother’s death, and I pushed her away for good. I didn’t want to get close to anyone, and Maddie . . . I was already close to teetering over the line with her. If she stuck around and witnessed the hurt I went through, I would have used her as a distraction to forget the pain and break her heart. I was too self-aware to make that mistake, so I said things I didn’t mean when she visited, and I don’t know why I was disappointed it worked.
Vodka and strawberries cloud my senses as Sadie’s tongue entwines with mine, but it’s vanilla and honey that I’m craving. I skim my hands down her sides until I reach the hem of her dress and shove it up to sit around her waist as we fall back onto the mattress together. We’re a mess of teeth and tongue while we rid ourselves of our clothes, and when she’s finally naked, I put my skills to work.
I swipe my thumb delicately across her clit and don’t let up until her head is thrown back and she’s practically screaming. I’ve always loved how wet women get for me. I’m a man who craves to be the best at everything, and over my years of sleeping around I’ve studied a woman’s pleasure as much as possible. I know not to rub too hard, and when my finger plunges into Sadie’s wet heat, I keep my strokes slow and precise, listening to her breathing, and her gasps let me know when to speed up or slow down.
