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Ryder’s voice from the doorway behind me sends a cold chill racing down my spine. My body stiffens and I bristle. I turn around to see him walking in and taking a seat at the table.
“Need my ankles taped,” he says.
I nod but remain silent, gathering the necessary supplies and then setting to work. While I do, I feel Ryder’s eyes on me. My whole body is tight with tension, but I’m determined to do my job and not let him bother or intimidate me. I give him a nice, tight wrap and tape him up.
“That should do it,” I say.
He slips off the table but doesn’t leave, just stands beside the table, looking at me with a smarmy smile on his face that makes my skin crawl.
“So, when are we going out?” he asks.
“We’re not. You’re done. You can go now.”
“Come on. Just let me take you out to dinner. And who knows? Maybe you’ll enjoy it so much, you’ll stay for breakfast too.”
“Does that ever actually work on women who don’t have self-esteem issues?”
He chuckles. “You’re a tough nut to crack. But you know what they say—that just makes the meat even sweeter.”
“That’s disgusting and completely inappropriate. I finished with your tape, Ryder. Please get out of my office.”
He steps closer to me, and I take a step back, trying to keep some distance between us. But the office isn’t very big, so it’s not like I can go very far. I glance at the doorway but don’t see or hear anybody in the hallway who might be able to help me. Ryder is also blocking my way. There’s no way I can get around him and out of the office without him stopping me if that’s what he intends to do. And judging by the look on his face, I think it might be.
“Ryder, leave the office or I’ll?—”
“You’ll what? Call the coach? Call who?” he sneers. “Do you really think they’d do anything to me even if you did?”
“Ryder—”
“I’m the future of this franchise, Cami. The rules don’t apply to me. You’d do well to remember that. You’d also do well to do what I want you to do since my word might be the only thing that saves your job.”
“Ryder, get the fuck out of my office. Now!”
His eyes narrow and his face darkens as his lips curl back into a snarl. He takes another step forward, his entire demeanor menacing.
“You don’t have to be such a bitch, Cami. I just want to take you out to dinner. You should be fucking grateful somebody like me even notices somebody like you.”
I take a step to move around him, but Ryder grabs me by the arm and pushes me up against the wall with such force, that it knocks the breath from my lungs. The back of my head raps against the wall, and I see stars bursting behind my eyes. But then he lets out a loud squawk, and the weight of his body is suddenly gone.
I open my eyes to see Carter throwing Ryder across the office. My heart leaps into my throat, and something heavy sits on my belly as I watch the rookie hit the cabinets on the wall across from me. My legs give out, spilling me to the floor. Ryder stumbles and loses his footing, going down hard on the tiled floor as Carter puts himself between the rookie and me. Ryder gets back to his feet, his face red and filled with fury.
“What the fuck, man?” Ryder shouts. “This ain’t your business, old man!”
“I’m making it my business,” Carter growls back. “What did I tell you about staying away from her? About showing her some fucking respect.”
Ryder lets out a snarl and rushes at Carter, and everything seems to suddenly be moving in slow motion. My heart is beating its way out of my chest as I watch it all unfold in front of me, terrified that Carter is going to get hurt. A startled scream bursts from my mouth as Ryder takes a hard swing.
Carter sidesteps the punch and, in one fluid motion, turns and drives his fist into Ryder’s face. There’s a sharp crack, and I watch as the rookie staggers backward and crashes into the cabinets on the other side of the office again where his legs give out beneath him.
Ryder grunts and then falls onto his ass. With blood spilling from his nose, he looks up at Carter with a shocked expression on his face. He stares at Carter as if in disbelief a man fifteen years his senior has gotten the best of him.
“What the fuck is going on in here?”
We all turn to see Hank Bradford, the team’s strength coach, standing in the doorway, his six-four bodybuilder’s frame looming large over all of us. His jaw is clenched, and his hard, dark eyes take in each of us in turn.
“Well? What the fuck is going on here?” he demands.
Ryder gets to his feet and wipes the blood from his nose. He looks at Carter, and for the first time, I see fear flash through his eyes. Carter turns to Hank and shrugs.
