Page 78 of The Off-Limits Play

Wiping blood off my lip, I turn back to Nylah, who is slowly sitting up.

“Here, let me help you.”

“Get off me,” she growls, flicking my hand away.

I stand back, my insides churning as I watch her struggle to her feet.

Fuck this. Leaning down, I take her arm and make sure she’s steady. I can tell she’s hurting. Her face is all scrunched up, and I need to?—

“Get off me!” she yells again, shoving me away and nearly tipping over as she tries to avoid putting pressure on her leg.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Nylah.”

“Don’t!” She points at me. “Just… stay away from me.”

“Please, come on.”

“No, I’m out.”

“What?”

“I’m going home.” She starts to limp down the path, rain pelting her as she hobbles away. Her platform shoe twists on the wet grass and she curses, pulling them off and continuing her slow, wet march away from me.

Shit!

I chase after her, needing to know how she’s gonna get back to her dorm. I would offer her a ride, but I left my bike at Football Frat, figuring I’d probably have a few drinks tonight. The least I can do is get her an Uber.

“Nylah, wait.” I try to take her arm again, but she moves it out of reach.

“I don’t want to be around you right now. Just go back to the party, Carson.”

“Aw, come on. I came to this party to see you. I came because you told me I had to fucking be here!”

She jerks to a stop, rounding on me with a shaky shout. “And I was really looking forward to seeing you! Until you turned feral!” She points to the pathway she landed on. “You are scaring me, and I don’t want to be around you right now! So just leave me alone!”

Water sprays off her lips as she yells at me through the rain.

Her sexy little tank top, which I’m only just noticing, is drenched and sticking to her body. I can see the goose bumps rising on the strip of belly showing between the fabric and her jeans.

Fuck, she’s cold.

She’s cold and wet and… scared.

She’s scared of me.

The thought punches me right in the balls, and I stay put in the rain, watching her limp away on her bare feet and feeling like the world’s biggest asshole.

“Let me help you,” I call after her, but it’s a feeble sound, and I don’t think she hears me because she just keeps walking.

I stand in that yard, the rain hitting my skin so hard, I feel like it’s hammering my soul.

My useless, fucking wasted soul.

Tipping my head to the sky, I blink against drops that are only getting heavier. Closing my eyes, I wonder: If I stand here long enough… could the rain just wash me away for good? Could I just disappear and not have to deal with any of this shit?

A roll of thunder has my eyes snapping open.

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