Defying The Rules

Prologue

Logan

"You're nothing but a lowlife, a cheater, and a limp dick," a girl's voice screams, and I freeze. Good thing, too, because a second later a stuffed animal comes flying out of the doorway the shouting came from. I can't resist. I just stand there and watch it all go down.

I shouldn't even be in the girls' dorm this early, but I'd spent the night with someone from this wing and ended up falling asleep. A few more minutes and I'd be late for practice, but there was still time for the gossip, so I cross my arms and lean against the wall.

"Cut it out, you psycho!" Johnny yells back, and I roll my eyes. Why is it that crazy is always the first insult these guys reach for? So idiotic. And anyway, why keep a girlfriend just to cheat on her? Better to stay single. Like me.

He walks off cursing and turns his back on the door.

Big mistake.

The next thing in the hallway is a furious girl, hurling a metal ruler right at him. I have to admire the aim when it catches him square in the head.

The messy blonde hair and the red flush spreading up her face and chest are new, but I'd recognize Charlotte McCarthy anywhere.

"Fuck!" Johnny shouts, rubbing the spot where it hit. He starts to turn back on her, but she's already raising her next weapon, something pig-shaped that might be a piggy bank, so he grunts and bolts, like the big coward he is.

She makes to go after him, but this time I decide to step in, planting myself in front of her.

"He's not worth it," I say, because it's the plain truth. The guy wasn't worth a damn. Everyone knew he'd been cheating on her for ages.

Charlotte lifts her eyes to mine and I swallow hard. I've never seen anyone hold that much anger and pain. And I play football, where we basically crash into each other to stop points from getting scored. But nothing compares to the hatred pouring out of this girl's eyes right now.

"What the hell do you think you know about it?" she snaps, stepping back to look at me, chin raised in defiance, though the disheveled hair and the tear tracks on her face aren't exactly threatening.

"Nothing. But that looks heavy," I explain, pointing at the pig.

I take the chance to yank the thing out of her hand in one pull, before I become the backup target.

Coins jingle inside and the piggy bank feels almost full.

"It'd definitely do some damage. And if you actually hurt him, you're the one who'd end up looking like the bad guy. "

And even though I'm telling the truth, what I say only seems to make her angrier.

Jesus, help me.

"Ugh, you men are nothing but idiots! Every single one of you!" she shouts, jabbing a finger hard into my shirt, and I let her, because tears have started sliding down her face again and I have a problem with women crying: I never know what to do.

So I stand there frozen, watching her huff, snatch the piggy bank out of my hand, and spin around, storming into her room and slamming the door. All while telling me one more time that she hates me and every other man alive.

I let out the breath I'd been holding since the tears started and run a hand through my hair.

Poor girl. But she'd be better off without that guy anyway.

I turn toward the exit, where all the gossips are still standing around, waiting to see if nothing else is really going to happen. I roll my eyes.

"Show's over, folks, get back to your lives," I order, and a few of them at least have the decency to look embarrassed before they do.

I leave the building and grab my car, parked nearby. I could walk to the football field, but I'm feeling lazy and it's already cutting it close. And I'm pretty sure the coach won't go easy on us just because it's the first practice of the new school year.

The phone rings through the car speakers and I pick up, already knowing who it is.

"Took you long enough to call," I say instead of a greeting to my best friend. I don't even need to see him to know he's rolling his eyes.

"Idiot, I'm not your babysitter," Ethan shoots back, and I laugh.

"But sometimes you sure act like it. Always calling to make sure I won't be late for class or practice after a night out," I tease, pushing a little harder because I liked getting under his skin and it was always so easy to do.

Besides being my best friend since high school and my teammate on the Royals, Ethan and I have shared an apartment since the start of college.

We basically spend all our time together.

"Asshole. Next time I won't even call if your body turns up in a gutter," he promises, and I laugh even harder. "You making it to practice or not?"

"Parking now, sweetheart, don't get your panties in a twist." Ethan huffs at the nickname he hates.

"Good. Then I get to kick your dumb ass, sweetheart." The sarcasm in his voice doesn't make me laugh any less, and he hangs up cursing at me.

I get out of the car and stop for a second, taking in the entrance to the field. Man, I love this place.

Life is pretty damn good to me: I'm at the college I always wanted, playing the sport that's my whole life, with a real shot at going pro one day.

And nobody was throwing things at me or cheating behind my back.

I think back on it and shake my head, chasing the thought away. Being single was so much better, and I had no intention of changing that.