Page 6 of Play For Me

Jesus, he’s an even bigger asshole than I thought. I clamp my hand down on his shoulder, squeezing until he winces. “You’re done. Let’s go.”

Then several things happen at once. Drunk Guy turns and tries to take a swing at me, barely managing to graze my chin. Then another guy is there, grabbing Drunk Idiot’s arm andpulling it behind him. “Can I kill him now, Vi?” the new guy snarls.

And suddenly, Cecelia Ransome is standing right there in front of me, her entire focus on the asshole who just tried to punch me.Fuck me, she’s gorgeous,I think to myself, breath catching as I momentarily forget the reason they’re all congregated around me. She’s pissed—enraged might be a better word—and her eyes are flashing wildly, jaw set. Something about that expression has heat unfurling low in my belly.

“I told you what would happen if you talked to my cousin again,” Cecelia snarls, her voice so low and fierce it actually sends a chill down the back of my neck. Then she lifts her leg and knees the guy in the balls.

Unfortunately for me, the last Ransome chooses that moment to get involved in the melee. Vega, clearly quite tipsy, lets out a little shriek of anger and tosses her drink at Drunk Idiot—who is currently bending over double after the assault on his manhood.

Leaving me, standing behind him, as the prime target for a face-full of sticky, dark red liquid.

THREE

CECELIA

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so,sosorry.” Vega is chanting it over and over again, her hands flapping ineffectively around the guy’s now dripping face and soaked shirt. “I didn’t mean to do that!”

The guy appears to be in shock, staring down at the big, hot pink splotch on his formerly white shirt like he isn’t sure how it got there.

“So sorry,” she says again. “So,so?—”

“Vega, chill,” I bark and she immediately quiets. Cade and Jason Miller, a guy I’ve been friendly with since freshman year, are dragging asshole Travis away, even as he moans and whimpers, clutching his nuts. I don’t even get the chance to enjoy his agony because I’m too busy staring at the very tall guy who just got caught in the crossfire.

The very tall, dark-haired, glasses-wearing,insanelyhot guy. Who my drunk cousin just poured party punch all over.

Violet re-appears at my side, clutching a handful of paper towels. She hands them over to the dripping guy, an apologetic look on her face.

“I’m sorry you were in the middle of my drama,” she says as he takes off his glasses and wipes them with the clean edge ofhis shirt. “And thank you for standing up to him like that.” She absently rubs at her arm and rage clouds my vision again.

“He hurt you?” I grab her arm, seeing the obvious red marks from his fingers. “I’m going to fucking kill him!”

“You already kneed him in the nuts,” Vega points out.

My eyes scan the room for where Jason and Cade might have dragged Travis. “That was because he was talking shit about Uncle Daltrey,” I snap. “Before I knew hetouchedher.”

Violet puts a hand on my shoulder, keeping me in place. “Stand down, killer. I’m fine.” She turns back to the guy, who’s now dabbing at his face. It occurs to me that he hasn’t said a single word since I came over here. “I really am sorry.”

He doesn’t assure her it’s okay. Doesn’t laugh about the mess or even comment on asshole Travis. He just stands there, looking down at his shirt. He reminds me of a deer in headlights the way he’s staring, like he literally has no clue what to do next.

Jason reappears at that moment, wincing when he takes in the state of the guy. “Shit, Sol,” he mutters. “Take that off, okay? You can wear my hoodie.”

But the guy winces, jerking back a little, making Jay curse under his breath.

“I have a t-shirt,” a girl’s voice rings out. I look over to see Emery Miller, Jason’s sister, pushing her way through the crowd that has gathered to watch the drama. “Move,” she snaps at a few gawkers. “Get the fuck out of here, show’s over.”

I know Emery just a little. She used to date Jenny, one of my teammates, last season. Their break-up caused Jenny to have her worst save percentage of her college career during the final stretch of the season, so I can’t say Emery is my favorite person. Where Jay is a certified party boy, his sister has always struck me as more quiet, more serious. She’s looking pretty serious right now—and more than a little worried.

“Here,” she says to the punch-covered guy—Sol, I think Jay called him? “There’s a tag,” she says much more softly. “So I turned it inside out for you.”

His nod is jerky, and the worry on her face grows. Jay is looking pretty worried as well, an emotion I don’t think I’ve ever seen on him before, and I’m starting to wonder what exactly is going on here. I’m sure getting doused in sticky punch wouldn’t feel great, but the three of them are acting like he’s been injured or something.

But I stop wondering—hell, I’m pretty sure I stop breathing—when the guy pulls the sodden white shirt over his head. Because now he’s standing there shirtless. Right in front of me.

Did I say he was insanely hot? Because that’s an understatement.

He’s tall, with that swimmer’s build I always go crazy for—lean and muscular without being too bulky. His skin is tanned, like maybe he spends a lot of time outside without a shirt on. And there’s just the right amount of hair on his chest, and it trails down over his ridiculous abs right to the top of his jeans?—

“Your tongue goes inside your mouth, Cecelia,” Violet murmurs in my ear, clearly amused. I snap my jaw closed and glare at her—but only for a second before looking back at the guy, because, hello, shirtless Greek god standing there.