37

Ryan

A Complete HR Violation

Half an hour before we were required to be physically present at the alumni night, I stared down at the receptionist for Kassie's apartment complex. I tried to figure out if I'd heard him correctly.

"I'm…not allowed upstairs?"

"Yes." The receptionist gave a brisk shake of his head and returned to the phone in a hushed whisper, like we weren't the only two people in the lobby. "Yes…six-foot-two. Brown hair. He's got flowers. What kind?"

He held down the phone and craned his neck.

"Roses. Red. Yes, probably the first thing he saw at the grocery store."

Grocery store?

They were a two-hundred-dollar bouquet from an off-campus florist with a Bird Pants stuffed character, one of the hornbill characters. I'd even scheduled the damn flowers out two weeks in advance, just to make sure—goddammit, none of that mattered.

What mattered was the fact that it was the alumni night and the clock ticked closer to seven. I wasn't going to sit in the waiting room, twiddling my thumbs when we had shit to do.

"I need to go upstairs," I repeated for the hundredth time.

The receptionist ignored me. "Do you girls want me to call the police?"

"The what? "

"No police? Just make him stay? I suppose." With a click, the phone call ended and the receptionist tapped the desk. "You have not been granted access to the elevator, sir."

"We're going to be late."

" Sir —"

"Dammit, we're going to be late."

" Sir , I'm simply relaying a message ."

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath and took a seat in a patchy chair.

The headache pounded behind my temple. Long minutes passed and I scrolled through Kassie's accounts before the bell over the door chimed. Zariah burst through with Gianna's pizza boxes. Her face lit up the second she saw me.

I pushed from the chair.

"Oh, no. I'm not here to let you up. But thank you for the pizza money!"

"We're going to be late, Zariah."

"She's getting a makeover. This month's new roommate is a professional. Be patient."

"Kassie doesn't need a makeover," I muttered, irritable. "She just needs a dress."

"You're such a dude." She took a seat next to me and, reluctantly, I sat next to her. I didn't realize she was staring at me until I glanced over. She didn't look away. Instead, Zariah cocked her head to the side, studying me.

"How are the RA interviews going?" I finally asked.

"Long and boring. I have a situation I want to talk to you about."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm a barista at this fancy hotel. Marrs works with it." She pulled out a slice of pizza and took a big bite. "My thirty-eight-year-old manager is—uh—really…hot. But like, my manager . And I keep thinking—wow—what if I just gave into the animal impulses and fucked his brains out?"

"Uh…okay."

"Should I give into those animal impulses?" she pressed. "Even if it's workplace inappropriate? Complete HR violation? And he's not bald and divorced, by the way. He's hot."

"You're twenty years old," I told her, my voice flat. "That's my answer."

"Dammit," she muttered under her breath. "I knew I should've changed the age."

"What?"

"I mean—uh—are you sure?"

"Zariah, if anyone's harassing you, tell me." I shifted back, irritated that she felt the need to dance around the subject. She was Kassie's best friend. Important to Kassie meant important to me and I'd snarled at a few football players who decided to talk about Zariah's figure when she'd visited our practices.

She mumbled under her breath and straightened up, freshly determined. "Let's say he's twenty-one years old and a hot football player who buys food for my roommates and drives us home safely after we've been drinking a lot, and he fixed up our dorm, and he's my boss at the hotel. Can I fuck him?"

"Why would a football player be working at a hotel?"

"Ryan, answer the question."

My answer was swift. "No."

"No?" Zariah's face fell and she glanced at the elevator. "Oh."

"No." I shook my head. "This is your job, Zariah. As long as you're bound to the rules and responsibilities that come with it, nothing should jeopardize that. If you could get in trouble at work, it's not worth sleeping with someone."

She sank further into the chair until her shoulders touched where the cushion met the back of the chair, a sullen look on her face. "Got it."

Whatever situation Kassie's roommate had found herself in, I had no doubt she'd spring herself out of it. Throwing away opportunities like that wasn't just stupid - it didn't make sense. Nothing could make me rearrange my priorities like that.

Except Kassie .

The contract had ironclad rules. No sleeping with each other. But for the first time in my life, I wondered exactly how I could navigate around a clause and rip it down the line.

Kassie, lying on my bed,. My hand tightened around the bouquet. After practice, I could haul her into the shower with me. Press her body against the cool tile. Just thinking about the water dripping down her breasts, outlining her curves…

What if the second after I signed on for the draft, I found my way to her bed? Bypassed the asshole receptionist and pushed her against the elevator, hiking her leg—

The elevator dinged and I jerked up.

"Ryan, I know you said you're on a tight schedule." Zariah followed after me as I walked to the elevator. "Could I get like two minutes alone with Kassie? It's important."

With a low creak, the elevator doors opened, and out buzzed Kassie's roommates, the half-roommates who only stayed every other weekend, and whoever had decided to spend the night in their crowded apartment.

It wasn't until they cleared out that I got the first look at my girlfriend, ready for the alumni night.

I almost dropped the roses.

Kassie stepped out, careful to bunch up the dress between her fingers so it didn't drag on the ground. I had no idea where she'd gotten it from. No clue. The dress hung off her shoulders in a deep blue that brought out the warmth in her eyes. Her hair flowed behind her shoulders in brilliant, dark curls. No paint streaks, no charcoal streaks, just…her.

Holy shit.

The happiness lit up her features like nothing else and I found myself wanting something I'd never wanted before.

There weren't words to offer an explanation, no instruction manuals, no game plan. It was another thing I couldn't understand. But I wanted it. I wanted it the same way that I wanted to go to practice in the morning or the same way I wanted to push past my limits. The way I wanted to win a football game.

I wanted it with absolution and a deep need to see the goal satisfied.

I wanted to see her happy—because of me.