Page 1 of For Crosby

CHAPTER ONE

November

Sabrina

I threw back my shoulders and walked with purpose across the dark campus. It may have been three in the morning, and I may have been slightly buzzed, but I still made myself a promise. I was done being everyone’s trusty sidekick. Trace freaking Forester, superstar wide receiver and one of the hottest guys I’d ever met, friend-zoned me, and I all but encouraged it.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“Hey,” a deep voice called.

I stopped short, spinning to see if Forester changed his mind and followed me. He hadn’t. That in itself sucked, but so did the knowledge that I was being followed in the middle of the effing night, alone on a huge campus with no mace or martial arts training. I doubted my flyer spot on my high school cheerleading squad would’ve done me any good now—two years later.

“Hey, blondie,” the voice persisted.

I spun around, my now fading curls whipping around my head as I squinted into the darkness. The lights from the security phones cast a soft blue glow over the sidewalk, giving me the slightest sense of safety.

“Over here.”

I spun again, this time noticing movement by a large tree. I focused, still struggling to discern who it was and wondering if I should run instead of stand there—like the victim in a horror movie giving the murderer time to catch her.

“You gonna stand there and stare or you gonna help me?” The annoyance in his voice—and the fact that he wasn’t heavy breathing through a distorted mask—told me he wasn’t a deranged slasher.

“Help you? I can’t even see you.”

“What the hell,” he grumbled under his breath. “Come closer then.”

I dug my hands into my hips. “Sorry if I’m reluctant to venture into the darkness because some stranger I can’t see calls me over.”

“Turn on your phone’s light.”

Huh. I hadn’t thought of that.

I slipped my phone from the back pocket of my jeans and flashed my light on him. My eyes widened as I inhaled sharply. He definitely wasn’t a masked murderer. He wasn’t covered at all. He was butt-freaking-naked and tied to the trunk of a very large tree. The thick ropes binding him pinned his tattoo-covered arms to his sides.

“Why are you naked?” I asked.

“Naked? You wanna know why I’m naked?”

I nodded.

“So, the fact that I’m fucking bound to a tree is what? Not weird at all?”

I tried to keep my eyes on his, but the fact that my phone served as a wide spotlight on his naked body was a little distracting. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” His exasperation was palpable.

“Yeah. Sorry your nakedness surpassed the fact that you were kidnapped.”

His face contorted. “Kidnapped? No one kidnapped me.”

I lifted a knowing brow.

His face grew angry. “I get how it looks, but this ain’t no kidnapping. It’s an initiation…of sorts.”

“You’re pledging a frat?”

“Do I look like a frat boy to you?”

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