Rush: A Reverse Harem Romance

Skyler

I’m in Graham Lawson’s
bedroom.

Holy crap, I’m gonna be sleeping in his bed!

Too bad he won’t be sleeping in it with me.

His roommate said that Graham will be crashing on the sofa in the living room while I take his room. That doesn’t seem right. Maybe I can convince him to just let me have the
sofa. Besides, he’s the one who should be well-rested for classes if he’s going to pass.

Despite what some people who went to school with us thought, Graham isn’t dumb. He’s actually really smart but just has a problem concentrating on one thing for too long. I’m pretty sure he was even diagnosed as having Attention
Deficit Disorder, or ADD.

I’m walking around, looking at the pictures of him and his friends on his dresser mirror when the voice I remember all too well suddenly says, “Hey, you’re here!” from
behind me, nearly scaring the piss out of me.

“Hey,” I reply when I turn around to face him. God, he’s even sexier in person than I remember. He’s bigger, more muscular in his arms and chest, and his dark hair
is cut close to his head, making him look tough and dangerous. I’m unable to form another word before he tosses his arm full of books on the bed where they
bounce, and then he’s suddenly there, right in front of me, hugging me so fiercely that my feet momentarily leave the floor.  

“You look exactly the same!” Graham says when he sets my feet back down on the ground and pulls
his arms away. “Thank you so much for coming.”

It takes me a moment to catch my balance since my head feels like it’s spinning. And great, of all the times he would hug me, it would be now,
after I walked miles in the heat and am in desperate need of a shower and more deodorant.

“Ah, sure,” I tell him.

“You can unpack your things in here. I’ve cleared out a few drawers,” Graham says when he goes over and opens the top dresser drawers.
“Oh, and I keep my keys on top of here. You can borrow my car anytime since I’ll be walking back and forth to campus.”

“Thanks, but I don’t have a driver’s license,” I admit. Wanting to avoid having a conversation about why an almost twenty-one-year-old isn’t capable of getting behind the
wheel of a car, I quickly continue. “And I don’t need to sleep up here in your room. I can sleep downstairs. You’re gonna need to get lots of rest…”

“I’ll be fine on the sofa. You’ll make sure I’m ready for my classes, right?”

“Ah, right,” I agree. “So, which ones, I mean, what courses are you going to be taking?”

“Well, there wasn’t much left to pick from,” Graham says before he goes over and sits on the bed to pick up the textbooks. “The first one is World Geography.”

“Good. That should be pretty easy,” I tell him, taking a seat next to him on the bed just because I can. God, he still smells the same, like masculine heaven.  

“What else?” I ask, to keep him talking to me.

“Ah, let’s see,” he says as he reaches over for the stack of books. “Oh, Sociology.”

Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad so far.

“Then I know you’re, like, great at math and all, so I picked Intro
to Statistics, since I failed it the first time and have to have it to graduate.”

“Right,” I agree.

“And then finally, there’s a business class on, like, career planning or something.”

“Wow, so you’re taking Geography, Sociology, Statistics, and a business class every day, five days a week?”

“Yep,” he answers with a nod.

“For eight weeks?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s a lot, Graham,” I tell him honestly. “I mean, I would probably struggle to handle this course load in the crammed summer session. You’re probably going to have hours
of reading assignments every night.”

“I know. That’s why you’re here. To make sure that I stay on track and get everything done,” he says.

“What are they requiring for you to stay on the team?” I ask.

“A two-point-oh GPA,” he says, which sounds pretty lenient.

“And what’s yours
right now?”

Graham looks away and blows out a breath. “You’re gonna think I’m an idiot.”

“No, I’m not,” I assure him. “You just hate going to classes and would rather be out on the football field, that’s all.”

Finally, he softly says, “One-point-eight.”

“Okay. I’ll enter that in the formula to figure out what grades you need to bring it up.”

“You can do that sort of math in your head?” he asks.

“No,” I reply with a smile. “There’s a tool online. I’ll need the total hours of coursework you’ve completed and all too.”

“Sure,” he says. “I really appreciate you canceling your summer plans to help me. If anyone can get me through these classes, it’s you.”

“I’ll try my best,” I promise him. “But you’re gonna have to put in one-hundred percent of the effort.”

“I know,” he says.

“You can’t miss a
single class, so you can’t party every night.”

“Tonight’s the last one for a while,” he agrees with his signature breathtaking grin. “Are you
gonna come hang out with us at the pool?”

“I don’t think so.”
I feel awkward and goofy enough, just around Graham. Throw in a few dozen more people and water deep enough to drown in, and I may have a panic attack.

“Come on. It’ll be fun,” he says, getting to his feet.

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