Rocky Mountain Hook Up (To Love Again Book 1) Read Free Page B

he saw the petite redhead, laughing self-consciously with a friend. She looked as nervous as Tray felt. There. There was more to some of them. As he watched, she shook her head at something her friend had asked and then watched her friend disappear toward the dance floor. “She’s kinda cute.”
    “She’s your type, bud. Go get her, I’m going to dance.”
    Barry made his way onto the dance floor and Tray felt an unfamiliar stir. The redhead was damned attractive. In fact, she was hot. As hot as the blood starting to rise in his veins. She was also dressed more conservatively than some of the other women. Certainly more than her friend with the trendy purple hair, who was a hottie of another type. Tray could sense the woman’s discomfort, as she sat there by herself. She twisted her napkin until it was almost in shreds, then moved on to rolling her drink between her hands.
    He should go over to see her. For once, he would make the approach. Yes, get up and go over. Just walk over. Easiest thing in the world, he told himself.
    Just as Tray was rising, a tall man stepped in front of the woman. Darn, now it was too late. Tray moved a little to the side, watching how tentative the woman’s smile was. At last, she nodded, and the man disappeared toward the bar. There was something about him that Tray recognized. And then he put his finger on it. It was Scott Walker from his statistics class. A true jock, Scott sat at the back and sniggered through the lectures of the mandatory credit class. The girls loved him, drooled over him like he was cotton candy. Of course, Tray couldn’t complain too much in that department, he got his own share of attention. But the crowds around Scott did make him wonder about some women’s taste.
    Damn it all. He had missed his chance. He cast his eyes around the crowd, looking for another possibility, but his gaze kept coming back to the redhead. She continued to fidget and he couldn’t help hoping that Scott would not be her type.
    Then he spotted Scott making his way back through the crowd, but he stopped mid-way at an empty table and tucked himself behind a pillar. It was difficult to see what he was doing, since he was half-hidden by the pillar, and the strobe light made everything seem to quicken then slow down. Like watching from inside a dream. Tray saw Scott reach into his pocket and drop something into the drink.
    This time, Tray’s blood rose in anger. So it was true. Rumors were circulating around campus that Scott was the connection for Roofies, the rape drug. And if Tray was right, he had just slipped one into this woman’s drink. Tray knew that in a short while the redhead would lose her coordination, appearing more drunk than she might already be. Then she would black out, but remain conscious. It was despicable what some men would do to have their way with a woman. Later, she wouldn’t remember a thing.
    During high school, a boy from a visiting sports team had used a rape drug on Tray’s sister. Tray had almost killed him. Fortunately he didn’t have to, because the sheriff pressed charges, but it took Sheryl years to get over it. She’d confessed last Easter that even now it came back to her in flashes and still had the power to plunge her into depression for days.
    Tray seethed, knowing that a brief pleasure for one man could produce such lasting desperation for the woman involved. Fueled by raw anger, he started to make his way across the room. He wasn’t sure what he would do when he got there, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to sit back and do nothing.
    Even with the adrenaline pumping through him, it was slow going. He pushed his way through the throng on the dance floor, feeling a hint of desperation rising in him as he saw Scott place the drink on the table in front of the woman. Tray quickened his pace and brought on a few dirty looks and rude comments as he forged his way through the crowd.
    Scott and the redhead were talking, laughing, and so far she