Crown of Campus (Gods of Campus #2)

Chapter 1

Randy

Perfection!

I double fist the air as the whole team runs together to celebrate our game-winning touchdown.

I am still riding that high as I walk into Jason’s house.

I am used to the welcome I receive. The student body flocks toward me, once again congratulating me on our victory and my lethal arm.

Slaps on the back, kisses on the cheek, the more-than-obvious come-fuck-me looks.

Which I am fully going to accept…but not now.

Right now, I want to hang out with my boys. This is what I live for, this rush, these highs, these moments where I am God.

I make my way through the crowd of cheers and high fives to find my teammates. I find one of my best friends and housemate Tony Walsh in the kitchen chatting to a guy I’ve never seen before. I approach and slap him on the back. “Hey, man,” I say in greeting.

He seems caught off guard but recovers quickly, giving me an easy look and thumbing toward the fridge.

“Hey, brother, beers are in the fridge. Some guys were poking around in there trying to take them, but they were quickly sent on their way.”

“Awesome,” I reply, making a beeline for the fridge before it all disappears. I’d much rather have a cold bottle of beer from the fridge than the keg outside.

I head back over to Walsh, twisting the top off my beer.

“Randy, this is Sebastian. Seb, this is Randy.”

They both lean against the kitchen island, which is standing-room only as partygoers move around us.

“Nice to meet you, man. How do you know each other?” I ask, standing in front of them.

Their eyes flick to each other.

“We have a few classes together,” Walsh replies.

I nod, taking in this guy and wondering how I’ve never seen him around before. He’s definitely not a sophomore, or even a junior, and he clearly doesn’t shy away from the gym.

“Geez, man, you’re built. You should be playing football,” I say, my left hand slipping into my front pocket while my beer-holding right hand points toward him.

“Not my thing,” he says, shaking his head, his bottle hovering near his mouth.

“Just like the gym,” his deep voice adds before he swigs his beer and swallows.

“I like watching the games and I support the team, but I don’t think I have the coordination to do what you guys do.

” “Really? You watch Walsh stroll onto the field—maybe break into a brisk jog, kick the ball, then mosey back to the bench, and you call that coordinated?” I tease, shooting him a smirk knowing full well how talented Walsh is.

Walsh laughs, his head shaking as his eyes find the floor. “Fuck you, man!” His green eyes then find my face, his famous dimples on full display.

“I still couldn’t do it,” Sebastian says through a pearly white smile. “I’m more of a gym junky. Hitting the bags is more my speed.”

The guy looks country in a tight black shirt, though it’s mostly covered by a red-and-black-checked shirt and jeans. Either way, with his build and rugged good looks, he’s not going to have any problems getting the ladies.

“Hey, Randy,” a sweet purr cuts through the air, making all three of us look. I turn to the black-haired beauty in front of me; she is super cute.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.” I leer as a I lean back against the countertop and take her in.

“I just wanted to say you played really well today.”

“Thank you…” I pause, waiting for her to fill in the rest of the details.

“Abigail.”

“Hmm, Abigail, pretty name, see you later,” I say, pushing off the countertop as she gives me a bewildered look. “Nice to meet you, man,” I say to Sebastian as I make my way out of the kitchen, saluting him with my beer as I leave.

Walsh says a quick goodbye to his friend, laughing as he follows behind me. “I don’t think that was Seth’s ‘Abigail’.” He laughs some more, casting an eye back to the baffled junior.

Walsh knows exactly why I shut her down just by hearing her name.

He knows Seth is seriously overprotective with a girl named Abigail.

I’ve never met her, but I unintentionally slept with her best friend, Julia.

Seth took it well enough, but the warning he gave me that if I ever slept with his Abigail or, and I quote, “he would rip my dick off.” Was enough to swear me off any women named Abigail.

Seth’s sheer size is intimidating. I truly believe he could crush a human skull with one hand.

Not that he would, the guy’s harmless. Well, off the field…

but he has rules and that includes don’t sleep with a girl named Abigail, don’t stand inside a boxing ring with him.

Absolutely don’t hold a gun to his friend’s head or piss him off in any way, probably best you don’t talk or look at him, and definitely don’t touch his bike… other than that, basically harmless.

“I don’t care I’m not risking it. I like my dick.” I turn and point to my crotch. “My dick’s my friend and he’s a legend around here. I want to keep my dick!”

Walsh laughs again, shaking his head as we both pass through the threshold outside and amble down the back stairs to the yard.

“No Abigails. That’s what I promised, remember?” I add.

“Fair enough.” He looks around the crowd of people, and I can tell he’s taking note of the looks we get as we make our way toward the back. “It’s not like she’s your only option anyway.”

I give him a wolfish grin and crane my head around to the gathering of people. “No. No, she is definitely not.”

“Where’s Seth?” I ask.

“Over there,” he points.

“Cool, I’ll go say hi.”

“Okay, I might head back to the kitchen and grab another beer,” Walsh says.

I take in the full bottle in his hand but don’t question him—must be a hot chick back in there.

“Okay, see you later, or back at home,” I say, slapping him on the arm.

“Oh, and Walsh,” I say as he turns and looks back at me.

“Your kicking was on point today, hundred percent accuracy. You killed it, brother.”

“Thanks, man,” he says, making those trademark dimples of his pop and the ladies next to him swoon. He salutes his beer in the air and turns to head back into the kitchen.

I make my way over to Seth, a cheerful expression on my face as I mingle with the crowd, accepting the compliments on tonight’s game.

Seth is easy to spot, being a clear foot taller than the rest of the crowd.

Dressed all in black and covered in dark ink and sporting short dark hair, he stands out as the bad boy of campus.

He has a chunky silver ring on his right index finger that he taps against the amber bottle he holds.

He stands among the rest of our team, minus Christian, who is resting back home after being shot in the shoulder.

An incident that occurred when the four of us went to save his girlfriend Shelby from her deranged stalker who kidnapped her a few days ago.

But I’m more than positive that she is taking good care of him tonight while the house is empty, and they reconnect after their short time apart.

Once again, I except the wave of relief that washes over my body after the intensity of the past week. It was nothing short of adrenaline-filled madness. Followed by sheer relief as we saved Shelby and managed not to die.

After the incident, though, I had a quiet breakdown in the shower.

Crying out all the epinephrine that had coursed through my body.

My mental health needed it, and I’m not ashamed to admit it because it was nothing but necessary.

As was the twelve hours of sleep that followed.

And now that the ordeal is over, I can get right back into my lighthearted, self-assured ways.

“I hate boosting that ego of yours, but that arm is a weapon,” Seth says as he spots me making my way over to him.

“Too late," I say with a wink. “Ego’s already inflated, compliments hit different coming from you, man. Appreciate it.” I tap my beer bottle against his with a grin.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Our heads turn as we hear the microphone and watch Jason step up on a nearby chair. “Well, guys, what another amazing turnout to celebrate our win.”

The crowd cheers.

“Tonight, I’m keeping it short and sweet.

I know he’s not here, but I want to give a shout-out to Christian resting up at home after being shot.

To Devon man, who’s…” he cranes his head then shrugs.

“I don’t know…somewhere. Man, you where incredible and did an amazing job stepping up when we needed you. ”

The crowd cheers again as Jason continues.

“Also, to my boys down there,” he says, pointing in our direction and over near the back door where Walsh is standing.

“You boys are fucking crazy. Heroes, but fucking crazy. Cheers to the three of you, and to Shelby. Glad you made it home safe. Cheers.”

The crowd cheers and I toast Seth’s beer again and down the remaining contents of my drink.

Jason throws back the remainder of his drink, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“This song goes out to my fellow Raptors, what another fucking epic win!” he says as he points to the guy controlling the music, then jumps down off the chair.

“Centuries” by Fall Out Boy, comes through the speakers.

I smile to myself; yep, this is my realm where I rule, and my life doesn’t get much better than this.