ARYA
My phone rings as Avery and I step off the elevator in Beacon West, the building that houses the offices of the business school faculty and administration. When I raise my phone, a picture of Erik’s tattoo and the word Viking light the screen. I should probably change the contact info to use his name now.
Avery and I both glance at the phone, and I smirk with a shrug.
“He never calls so…”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Avery continues to the office as I pause to answer.
“Hey.”
“Are you done dropping off the assignment?”
“Not yet.” I move to the window at the end of the hall. “We just got to the offices, but this won’t take long. Do you want to come to lunch with us?”
“No. The meeting with the dean went late. I’m headed to Columbus Tower. My editor wants changes to the piece I turned in. Could take a while. Stay with Avery until Shane picks her up and have him drop you at practice. I should be there before you’re finished, but if not, text me when you’re done. I’ll break away to come and get you.”
“I can come to the tower, Erik. It’ll still be light out when practice ends tonight.”
“No, I want to come and get you. Don’t leave the building alone. Just wait in the lobby for me. In fact, ask a couple of the other girls to wait with you.”
“All right. How did the meeting with the dean go? Okay?”
“No.”
I stiffen. “What happened?”
There’s a beat of silence that causes adrenaline to flood my veins.
“I’ll tell you everything tonight.”
“How am I supposed to concentrate? Tell me now.”
“I’m about to walk into the tower.”
“Did he expel you?”
“No.”
“Good because that would be bullshit.” I run a hand through my hair. “One question?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“Does it change what we talked about last night? About trying to stay together and live in the same city?”
“Not on my end. Maybe it’ll change your mind.”
My brow arches. “Why?”
“Things might not go well with the NFL draft.”
That fucking prick. I’m going to stop by Nyball’s office when I’m done here. By the time I’m done talking, the dean will know that if he hurts Erik, GU should prepare itself for the aftermath.
“That would suck.” I lean against the window frame. “And you expect that to change my mind about us? As in, I would dump you if there’s no multi-million-dollar contract? Because that’s who I am?” I say tartly.
“Not necessarily because of the money, but my prospects would be different.”
“Would you stay at GU another year?”
