Page 2 of For Crosby

My eyes drifted over his naked body. His very impressive naked body. Whoever did this to him was kind enough to leave his goods on show for the world to see. And I wouldn’t be a hot-blooded college girl if I didn’t inspect his extraordinary package. “Hostile, cocky, and naked.” My eyes lifted to his. “Total frat boy material.”

“I need you to untie me,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“I didn’t hear a please.”

Given the deep growl in the back of his throat, it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to remain composed. “Could you please walk to the back of the tree and see if it’s possible to untie the knots or if you need to go find a saw or something.”

“A saw?”

He let out a long, frustrated breath.

“Just pointing out that a saw doesn’t prove you’re not some psycho murderer.”

“What?”

“How do I know I’m not the one being set up? How do I know behind that tree isn’t a group of guys ready to kidnap me?”

“I wasn’t kidnapped,” he growled.

“Says the guy tethered to a tree.”

His head fell forward and he shook it. “If you’re incapable of helping me, can you at least call someone who can?”

“I’m not incapable. Just skeptical.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. The longer I’m trapped here, the closer to morning it gets. And while I know my body’s breathtaking to women everywhere, I’d prefer not to have it plastered all over the Internet.”

Breathtaking? Was this guy serious? I flashed my light around the area surrounding us. Nothing lurked. No strange sounds existed. He appeared to just be a guy caught in a very precarious situation. “Do you even go to this school?”

“Yes.”

“Why haven’t we met?”

“Because most nights I am not bound to a fucking tree,” he snapped.

I walked closer to him, moving to the left and circling to the back of the tree. I stayed far enough away so if his ropes were an illusion and dropped from him if he stepped away from the tree, I could run. I flashed my phone around one last time, ensuring no one hid in the bushes before settling the beam on the knots holding him to the tree. Jesus Christ. “Did an entire Boy Scout troop do this to you?”

“Why? How many are there?”

“A lot.” I switched off my light and tucked my phone into my pocket so I could use both hands. “Who’d you piss off?” I asked as I began picking away at the first knot on the top.

There was a long pause before he grumbled, “The hockey team.”

“Did you hook up with one of their girlfriends or something?”

He shook his head. “I’m on the team.”

“Your teammates did this to you?”

Another long pause. “I took the captain’s position.”

I pulled one of the ropes through a loop and untied the knot. “I got one. Twenty-something more to go.”

“It’ll be morning before you get them all done,” he groaned. “Don’t you have friends you can call?”

“They’re all drunk at Forester’s birthday.”

“Should I know who that is?”

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