Bad Man on Campus: a Second Chance College Romance (Big Men on Campus Book 3) by Stephanie Queen

Author:Stephanie Queen [Queen, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-29T16:00:00+00:00

But later we don’t talk, because like all problems, the problem of Phoebe and her broken heart seems distant when I’m wrapped in Kace’s arms making love.

Chapter 6

Kace

Barely making it to the training room before my first class, I’m too distracted to remember the freshman player’s name as he sits at the bench next to me preparing to lift an impressive weight. But he stops and looks at me with a troubled frown.

“You were in a crash last week, right?”

My shoulders tighten as I lift a barbell. “What about it?”

“What caused it?”

“Why are you asking?” No way it’s idle curiosity, and I try to keep my face neutral, feeling the tension in my jaw, the strain of the muscles across my shoulders more from the question than the weight.

“A chick from the campus SADD group approached me with a petition to open an investigation of the crash. She claims—”

“What the fuck?” My gut does a nose-dive and I drop the barbell to the floor with an unnerving clang. “I know what she claims. It’s not true.” I swipe beads of sweat from my brow with my forearm.

“I didn’t sign it. Thought you should know. What the hell happened?”

“Not a damn thing. The car was hardly moving when it hit the tree. I . . . wasn’t paying attention. No biggie.” The kid nods.

“What’d you ever do to this chick from SADD to get her all up in your ass about it?”

“Good fucking question,” I say. It’s about time I find out. I’m going to have a talk with whoever it is.

“Whoever’s behind this has a major hair across their ass for you. I’ve never heard of SADD going after someone who wasn’t drinking. Right? It’s not like distracted driving is a criminal offense. You’d think you were an ax murderer, this chick was so angry. She was fucking adamant that you be held accountable.”

“I did hit a tree,” I say, staying cool. “Maybe she’s a tree hugger.” The kid laughs as I bend to pick up the barbell.

“I think she has some kind of thing about athletes getting privileged treatment,” the kid says. I straighten. His words set off alarm bells all through me. The memory of an incident from last semester surfaces.

“What was her name?” I ask, the vibration of fear intensifying at the possibility.

“Madelyn Fontaine, aka Mad for SADD. That’s what she told me.” The freshman laughs. “You heard of her?”

Fuck. I have heard of her. She’s the one thorn on campus, the one reminder who brings back with stark clarity all the horror of the tragic crash that killed Sky. The crash that killed my relationship with Glory. Or so I thought.

Our relationship was never dead. Only buried under my shit, waiting to be resurrected by Glory’s bravery. And now that she’s close to redemption, that we’re both so close to putting it all behind us, I’ll be fucked if I’m going to let some crazy vindictive chick ruin us all over again. Mad for SADD is

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