The Graham Effect (Campus Diaries, #1)

CASE:

We’re all hitting up a club downtown later. Some place called Smooth Moves. You ladies down?

I check with the girls, and they all nod.

Back at the hotel, Cami and I dress for a night out. My only option is the little black dress I wore last night. When Cami’s in the bathroom, though, I hastily examine the fabric to make sure I didn’t leak all the way through it when Ryder was fingering me at the opera.

A shiver runs through me. I honestly don’t think I will ever, ever get enough of him. Not the sex, which only keeps getting better. But the company’s growing on me too. Every prickly, grumpy part of him.

My teammates are all ready to go when my phone rings. I check the screen and wave Cami through the door.

“It’s my brother,” I tell her. “I’ll meet you guys in the lobby.”

“Undefeated,” Wyatt crows when I answer the call. “I just heard.”

“Yeah, the season’s going really well.”

“You think you’ll make it to the championship?”

“I mean, it’s still super early. There’s like twenty more games to go. But I hope so.” I bite my lip to stop the excitement, because I told myself not to get my hopes up, but I can’t help sharing the potential news with him. “One of the assistant coaches from Team USA is here this weekend. He stopped me in the hotel yesterday and told me I don’t have anything to worry about. Basically implied I’d make the final roster.”

“Fuck yeah. I told you.” Wyatt laughs. “Emma might be a total whack job, but her dad’s clearly got a good head on his shoulders.”

“One would hope. Anyway, I gotta bounce. We’re going out tonight with the men’s team to celebrate both wins.”

“All right, cool. Just wanted to say congrats. Love you, Stan.”

“Love you too.”

I tuck my phone in my purse and zip up my jacket on my way to the elevator bank. I press the down button, then wait until the doors swing open with a chime. I’m stepping into the car when someone says, “Hold the door.”

My stomach sinks when the blond guy from the rink follows me inside.

Fuck.

Of all the people to run into.

“You again!” he says, his face brightening.

“Yep.” I plaster my back to the wall, hoping my body language is obvious enough.

But he of no personal space doesn’t receive the memo. He stands directly beside me so that our arms are almost touching. Then he abruptly angles himself so I’m effectively trapped against the wall.

“I’m Nathan.”

I glance at the lights over the doors. I’ve already pressed the button for the lobby, but for some reason the elevator is still not moving.

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” he teases, chuckling.

I jam my finger on the close door button, even though the doors are already closed. Maybe that will speed up the process.

“I’m not scared,” I say lightly. “Just in a hurry. I have somewhere to be.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because I have nowhere to be.” A lecherous smile appears. He even licks the corner of his mouth, which I suspect is his attempt at looking sexy. It’s not working. “Why don’t I tag along with you?”

“Sorry, it’s a Briar hockey thing. Just for our teams.”

“That’s a shame.” He’s unfazed. “Maybe we can meet up after?”

“Oh, I don’t know when it’ll be done,” I reply, when deep down I want nothing more than to say, No, we cannot and will not meet up after. Ever.

But saying no to men isn’t always an easy task. I’d love to be direct. Confrontational. Look him right in the eye and say NO.

The problem with being a woman is that you never know what a NO will get you. Is it going to earn me an understanding nod and an Okay, well, have a great night; it was nice talking to you?

Or will it get me a You entitled bitch, what, you think you’re too fucking good for me?

And I’ve experienced the latter multiple times.

The world is scary sometimes. So, no, I’m not going to shoot this guy down directly, at least not in this specific circumstance, where we’re alone and I’m trapped. I’ll vaguely dance around the issue until I’m able to escape this enclosed space and find the safety of a crowd.

The elevator finally begins to move, and relief blasts through me like a gust of wind. I track the numbers as they go down.

Normal guys would usually get the hint. This one doesn’t. He leans in, and I wince when I feel his hot breath near my ear. I also smell a whiff of alcohol on it. I realize he was probably drinking at the game.

“I’d really like to meet up with you after,” Nathan tells me.

I try to ease away, but now I’m stuck between the wall and the number panel, trapped in the little corner.

“No, thanks,” I reply, finally opting for honesty. “I’m super tired. Won’t be going anywhere after the team event.”

“That’s a shame. I think we could have a lot of fun together.” He trails the tip of one finger against my cheek.

I flinch and try to sidestep him, but there’s nowhere to go.

I give him a deadly look. “Okay, seriously. You need to step back,” I warn.

And there it is, that telltale flashing of his eyes. The entitlement.

“You don’t have to be a fucking cunt about it.”

I ignore him.

“I’m just saying, we could have fun.”

The elevator stops five floors below mine to let someone else on. The doors start to open just as he digs his fingers into my waist, trying to pull me closer.

I experience a flicker of honest-to-God fear. “Get off me, asshole!”

“Stop being such a—”

Before he can finish, he’s hauled out of the elevator and into the wide hallway. I catch a blurry glimpse of Ryder’s furious face. Shane’s concerned one. And I almost sag with relief.

“She said get off her,” Ryder growls.

I jump out before the doors close on me. Ryder has his hand on the creep. Not overly aggressive, but a controlled threat. A hand of warning on Nathan’s chest, right near his neck as if prepared to yank him by the collar and shove him against the wall.

“Ryder, it’s okay,” I say, touching his shoulder.

“You sure?” He searches my face. “Did he hurt you?”

“Hurt her? I’m not a goddamn rapist!” Nathan snarls.

“Really? Because it sure looked like you were touching her without her consent.”

“She wanted—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Shane suggests coldly. “Seriously, bro, just don’t.”

Ryder steps away from the guy and points to the stairwell door. “Get the hell outta here.”

“We’re on the fifteenth floor! I’m not taking the stairs—”

“I don’t care. Go.”

Nathan’s thunderous gaze shifts between the two men. And suddenly three more bodies appear without warning. Case, with Will and Beckett in tow.

“What’s going on?” Case demands. “Is everything all right?”

“This guy was harassing Gigi,” Ryder mutters. “Tried to put his hands on her.”

Case lunges forward. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“We’ve got it handled,” I assure my ex-boyfriend. “Seriously, it’s fine.” To the red-faced Nathan, I frown and say, “Would you get out of here already? You don’t even know what can of worms you’ve opened.”

We’ve gone from two to five strapping hockey players in the matter of seconds, and no matter how big his biceps are, they’re no match for the Briar guys.

His gaze flits around in a visible panic. Then, without another word, he darts toward the stairs. We hear his footsteps echoing in the stairwell. I don’t know if he has the stamina to descend all fifteen flights, and I hope to God we don’t run into him on an elevator on our way down.

“You okay?” Case says urgently.

I can only guess how stricken I look. I won’t deny I was scared, especially when his fingers dug into my hip. I’m strong, have taken multiple self-defense courses, but you never know if you’re going to be able to fend someone off, especially a drunk guy who’s twice your weight and inches taller.

“Yeah.” I huff out a breath. “I am. I’m fine.”