Page 6 of For Crosby

“Back to my sorority house.”

One of his dark brows arched. “Those the girls who came out to see me?”

She nodded.

“Then lead the way. I’d liked to meet them with my clothes on this time. Or…we could make it even and have them strip down.”

She giggled, and everything about their exchange made my skin crawl. She moved by me, giving him just enough distance to check out her ass. And he did. Of course, he did.

Without another word, he glared at me, purposely bumping into me on his way down the stairs.

Their footsteps echoed in their wake as I stood alone in an empty stairwell hating Mr. Hockey more now than I had that night.

CHAPTER THREE

Sabrina

“Can you tell me why I’m here?” I asked from a chair in the dean’s waiting room.

The dean’s secretary, typing at her computer, didn’t bother to look at me. “Dean Edwards will be with you shortly.”

I pulled in an aggravated breath. I’d finished class and was heading back to the dorm. I needed an afternoon power nap like no one’s business. But then her call came, requesting I stop in to speak with the dean as soon as I could. So, there I sat, wondering why the hell he wanted to see me.

The minutes crept by as I skimmed through the feed on my phone. As usual, lots was happening on campus. From sorority and fraternity fundraising events to fans in the football stadium, Alabama was a cool place to be. But I missed people like my best friend Trish back in my small Florida town. Thanks to social media I could catch up on what she’d been doing since we rarely had time to speak with our busy schedules. I skimmed through more pictures, memes, and ads. Naked pictures of an arrogant hockey player were no longer plastered in my newsfeed. Had the novelty worn off or had the people who’d posted them been ordered to take them down?

Dean Edwards’ door opened. He stood with a kind smile in his charcoal three-piece suit looking at me like he already knew me, though I’d never spoken to him before. “Miss Marshall?”

I snatched up my bag and wrapped the strap across me as I stood, following him into his office.

He gestured to one of two leather chairs facing his oversized mahogany desk. “Have a seat.” I did as he rounded his desk and sat across from me. “So, I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you here.”

I nodded.

He leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk. “Well, as you know, we had quite the scene on campus this past weekend.”

I tilted my head, knowing the time and place to use my blonde hair to my advantage. “I’m sorry?”

“The young man and the tree.”

“Oh. Yeah. That was horrible.”

“Any idea who did it?” he asked offhandedly, as if asking how I liked my coffee.

Was I going to implicate the entire hockey team for Mr. Hockey? For all I knew, he’d done more than he said and deserved it. “Do you?” I asked.

He shook his head. “That’s why you’re here, Miss Marshall. You were an eyewitness.”

My stomach clenched, but I tried with everything I had to steel my features. “Said who?”

He swiveled the screen of his desktop monitor. A black and white surveillance video played. The view was a clear shot of the tree and a very naked Mr. Hockey. Oh, and me trying to untie him. Shit. “If you know I was there, why don’t you know who did it?”

He turned the screen away from me. “The assailants wore masks.”

“Well, if you don’t know, how would I? I wasn’t there when they tied him up. I just found him.”

“You tried to help the young man. Surely, he said something.”

I shook my head. “Did you ask him?”

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