Win Big:A Bad Boy Sports Romance(18)

She pressed up against my side, absently relaxing her weight into mine. "No, I'm fine."

"Jesus, who the hell was that guy? Has this happened before?"

"No, not really … I don't understand. We broke up over two years ago. He was a pain for a while, but after that he was fine for my sophomore years and right up to last semester. All of a sudden he started reaching out again. Then he came by my dorm looking for me while I was out last night. He eventually left, but … I don't know what his deal is."

"What is he, a tennis player?"

"Yes. I'm sorry … I still can't believe he did that."

"That douchebag's got serious issues, trying that crap here." I looked down the hall. "Where the hell is everyone? This place is usually crawling with trainers and coaches."

"Most are over at the track stadium for a department meeting … some may be laying low."

"Why the hell for?"

"Don't you recognize him? He's Austin Grant."

"Who the fuck is Austin Grant?"

She was getting back to her old self, rolling her eyes to my question. "Uh, you're standing in the Audley J. Grant Athletic Training Center. As in Austin's father. This is his alma mater, and he was a top cross-country track star turned billion-dollar entrepreneurial legend. He's donated over ten million dollars to build this place."

"Oh … that still doesn't explain why not even one member of the staff dared to show their face right now. He could have hurt you … and look at you, your shaking … " Not caring who was watching or if she'd resist me, I supported my weight on the one crutch and pulled her into my chest, holding her close and gently rubbing her back to reassure her. "Mo and I won't let that guy near you again." Samantha didn't pull away for a while. She just stood there for a while, catching her breath and repeating that she couldn't believe what he'd done. After a short while, I angled her chin to look up at me. "You're safe now …  Listen, we can do this PT session later. You're in no shape to work right now. My buddy Mo can give you a ride home if you want."

"I don't know … " she looked at the time again. "I've got a class in about an hour across campus."

"Forget about the class. That piece of shit attacked you. You should be reporting him to campus security or the police."

Samantha pulled out of my arms. "No. I'm not doing that … not now … and I have to get to my class."

"You're letting him off the hook?"

"His family has a lot of power and influence around campus, Evan. It was hard enough breaking up with him back when we dated for all of five seconds. I don't … I won't go through that again."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but Samantha was adamant. I left it alone. She was a big girl.

"Fine. At least let us get you a coffee or something. We'll drop you off at your lecture."

"I'm not sure … "

"I'm not leaving you alone here for him to try that shit again when Mo and I are gone."

"Okay …  All right, I'll go. My class is over at Cyprus Hall."

"That's easy. The Acadian Cafe is right around the corner from there."

"I'll get one of my friends to give me a ride back for my car later." She looked up at me. "Thank you for that … you and your friend didn't have to help, but you did and I appreciate it."                       
       
           



       

I pulled her close to me again and kissed the top of her head. "It's not a problem … "

"I'll have to stop by the frat house later for your session after all."

"Only if you're up for it after this trouble with your ex." I would have said more, but Mo strode back up the hallway from outside. "Is he gone?"

"Yeah. Piece of cake. The prick said he had a practice here with his team, though. I made him use the back entrance." He turned to Samantha. "Your ex-boyfriend problem won't be a problem anymore."

"Why? Did you hit him?"

"No, but he understands there's a distinct possibility that'll happen if I see him anywhere near you again."

"We're giving her a ride to the coffee shop near Cyprus Hall, Mo."

"Cool. Let's go."



Samantha was all business and refused to discuss any of what had happened at our next two appointments. That all changed when she showed up at the frat house precisely at two that Sunday afternoon. In the course of taking these new meds, I was so out of it that I forgot to unlock the door for her beforehand. I dragged my medicated ass out of bed to let her in. I wasn't using the crutches today because it had been a week since my injury. Still, I was slow, uncoordinated and not in the least bit graceful navigating those few feet. Opening the door was no problem, but I didn't expect what came next. Samantha threw her arms around me and almost knocked me off-balance.

"Happy Sunday to you too," I told her, looking down at her head buried in my chest. "It's either you're in a really good mood or I'm growing on you. What was that for?"

She didn't answer, so I eased her head up toward mine and kissed her lips. Samantha returned the kiss, and didn't push me away when I moved backward enough to close the door behind her, then slowly pressed her against it. In a second she was up on her tiptoes, stretching a hand up to my neck, letting me invade her mouth with my tongue. My cock sprang to attention between us, growing at the sensation of rubbing against her firm stomach through the fabric of her clothes. My hands wandered down her sides to the swell of her hips and tugged her closer to my stiff bulge.

Dammit. She froze just then. Samantha pulled from the kiss, gasping for breath as she drifted past me and headed right for the treatment table.

"Am I late for our session?"

What a question, after a welcome like that. "No … what's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Yes. I'm all right."

I turned, studying her face. "You don't look too good. Wait, did that guy hassle you again?"

"Everything's okay now, really. Let's get started. Do you need any help getting up on the treatment table?"

"I can manage." I made my way over, but didn't get on it right away.

"How is the new medication?" She was getting back into business mode, but something was still off.

"Nice and strong. Must be powerful, too. Doc only prescribed eight pills … two per day for four days."

"I'm glad it's helping."

"It is. It's been a week since I got hurt. I feel much better these last couple of days. The only drawback is these pills makes me drowsy as hell."

"You're following the directions, right?"

"Yeah. No more than two per day. I didn't take any on Friday evening or Saturday … I think there's three left."

"Right. Smart idea to not mix them with alcohol when you guys have these wild parties."

"Yeah, well it's a frat house. Parties are pretty much standard operating procedure."

"Have you … kept up …  with icing the area?"

I had to stop her right there. She was pale, her voice was weak, she was gasping for air, and she'd been practically propping herself up against the wall for support. I was a great kisser, but it couldn't have produced that kind of effect on her. "Have a seat, Samantha, before you pass out."

"I told you I'm fine."

I pointed at the upholstered button-back armchair one of the guys had brought in from the living room earlier. "Sit. Please."

Shen resisted for a few seconds, but she finally let out an exhausted breath and took a seat. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. And yes, I kept up with the ice packs and the bed rest … most of the time. That's how I'm able to walk around a bit today." Wishing I still had crutches under me, I limped toward the door to the living room. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? I'll get you something to drink."                       
       
           



       

"Okay. Bottled water would be good, thanks."

She was still taking labored breaths when I came back with her water. "Are you asthmatic or something?"

"No. Look, I'm just tired and a bit run down." She unscrewed the cap of the water bottle and took a few gulps.

"It's not even the second week of school. What kind of insane schedule do you have?"

"I'll be fine."

"Okay, but don't expect me to let you work on me when you look like you'll keel over any minute now. Actually you know what? Pat's around. His limo's outside and he has a driver. Leave your car where it is. His driver can take you home."

"No!" she said a little too quickly, jumping out of her chair. How strange. That's when I noticed she wasn't in the branded athletic program gear that staff and student trainers were mandated to wear to training and physical therapy sessions. She was in a blue long-sleeved shirt with the neckline off one shoulder, and a black skirt that stopped halfway up her thighs, with a pair of black matching flat shoes. If she didn't look so weak and tired, she'd be damned sexy right now. Okay, so she was still sexy as hell. My dick stirred at the thought of her climbing into my lap for some up close and personal comfort. I just had to ignore that for a beat while my gut was telling me to call 9-1-1 and get her seen by a physician.