Page 11

Chapter

Eleven

The other guys stumbled back in surprise, their brains responding with appropriate speed given the substances they’d most likely consumed.

“Rob!” I ran forward, grabbing his arm. He was going to seriously injure this guy, and not only that, if he got caught, he could be suspended for the season. It had already happened once with their right winger, Cody Simmons, who’d punched a guy for grabbing his girlfriend’s butt at Ranchmans. The evaluation committee didn’t seem to care who started the altercation. There was no fighting on campus. Period.

“Rob, I’m fine. You can’t get suspended.” I pulled harder without making much headway. His muscles were tight, his body so rigid, I thought he might snap.

Finally, my words sank in. He pulled back, pushing to his feet next to me. His knuckles were ripped and bloody. The whole thing had taken less than twenty seconds, but the guy on the ground was a bruised and bloody mess.

Rob scanned the other guys who were barely getting their shit together to move in and help their friend. “Back the hell off or I’ll put you all in an ambulance.” He caught the symbol on one of their jackets and laughed. “Are you shitting me? Nah, I’ll just phone your coach.” That stopped them in their tracks.

They exchanged nervous glances, their fearless leader struggling to his feet with a groan. "Whatever, man, crazy bitch ain't worth it," he spat, slinking away.

"You think you can come to our campus and pull this shit?" Rob shouted after them, and the last few seconds were finally processed in my brain. This was the visiting hockey team. The guys we were playing tomorrow.

I stood frozen, trembling as the adrenaline drained away, then reached for Rob’s still bleeding hands. “Are you?—”

He didn’t let me finish my sentence. He was touching my face, my neck, checking every inch of skin that was visible. “Did he hurt you? If he hurt you, I swear, I’ll kill him, Shar.”

“No. He didn’t hurt me.” Rob’s hands trembled on my shoulders, and I stared at him. He was only wearing a damn T-shirt. “What are you doing out here like that? It’s freezing and?—”

Rob's hand clamped onto my shoulder, his grip firm as he steered me away from the courtyard. We walked in tense silence, the crunch of snow beneath our feet the only sound echoing through the cold night air.

I couldn't stop shaking. Adrenaline still surged through my veins, my heart hammering against my ribcage. I clenched my jaw, trying to will my body to relax. It refused to obey.

"How did you know where I was?" I asked, my teeth chattering.

His dark eyes flicked to mine then away again, his mouth set in a grim line. "Doesn't matter. You shouldn't be out alone this late. It's not safe."

I bristled at his patronizing tone. "I walked most of the way with a friend."

"Seems like that worked well for you.”

I clamped my mouth shut. He’d just saved me, and I wanted to slap him. I wanted to do a lot of things. Scream. Cry.

How was it not okay for me to walk across my own University campus without being afraid? How was I ever going to feel safe again after this?

Emotion choked my throat, and I stared straight ahead, Rob still guiding me toward our house. His breathing was heavy, his eyes murderous in the amber glow of the street lamps.

Finally the townhouse appeared before us. Rob dropped his hands from my shoulders, and I sagged. He reached past me and turned the knob. The door swung open—he’d left it unlocked.

As soon as we stepped inside, blessed warmth enveloped me. I kicked off my shoes, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. I was fine. I wasn’t physically hurt, but my traitorous body refused to stop trembling.

Suddenly, something heavy and warm draped over my shoulders. That clean scent filled my nostrils. Rob's jacket. I whirled to face him, an automatic protest on my lips, but he cut me off.

"Don't even try, Shar. You're shaking like a damn leaf."

"I'm fine," I insisted through gritted teeth, shrugging off the jacket. "I don't need your?—"

"You're not fine!" he snapped, those onyx eyes flashing. "You almost just got assaulted! If you're going to insist on walking home alone at ungodly hours, then I'm coming with you from now on. End of story."

I gaped at him, indignation rising in my throat like bile. “You’re not my boyfriend.” I regretted it the second it left my lips. Rob ran a hand through his hair, and I caught sight of his bruised and bleeding fingers. “Rob?—”

“Don’t.” He strode past me, heading for his bedroom.

“Rob!” I stomped after him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I?—”

“Don’t!” He whirled, and the sight of his glassy eyes choked the words from my mouth. His eyes scanned my face, darting over my features like a cat watching a mosquito. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his throat working.

“Did you wait up for me?” I asked, my voice a whisper.

Rob’s lips twitched. This close, I could see the stubble on his jaw. The scar that nicked the edge of his lower lip. “Lock the door.” He turned and disappeared into his room, closing the door behind him.

I stepped forward, pressing a hand to the wood. My body was still, no longer shaking. Instead, something hot and sharp unfurled low in my belly like a curl of smoke. I shivered and stepped back, then walked mechanically back to the entry. I hung up both our coats. The silence pressed in on me, making my ears ring.

I turned toward the kitchen and froze, my eyes snagging on the flash of teal.

My water bottle. It was turned upside down. Washed and drying on the rack.