Page 30 of This Is War: All's Fair Duet
A breath heaves from my chest, and I feel like snarling at someone… anyone, really, even though I’d really like to focus all this tormented rage at Jaxon. Fuck. I scrub a hand through my hair, making the already tousled strands stand on end. “What the fuck is wrong with my hand,” I bite out, then swallow several more gulps of the vodka. “This is some good shit.” Better than the vodka Hazel and I had at the frat house on Saturday. It’s not burning so badly now. Maybe I’m just that drunk. I blink hard. Exhale. I actually kinda like the burn. I shut my eyes.
What might be a moment or a year later, my ears prick at the sound of hushed voices in the hallway.Ah.Home from their date. Rya hadn’t called it that, but that’s exactly what it fucking was. A wave of dizziness hits me out of nowhere. Fucking photographs. Touching my girl. Making her smile. It’s all I can do not to bellow aloud what’s screaming through my head: Mother. Fucker.
I sit up quickly—when the fuck did I sit down on the floor again?—only pausing a second due to the room tipping sideways, then rush to the door. I stumble and run headlong into it, smacking my cheekbone against the wood.Fuckin’ Levi. Leaving shit strewn all over the room.
My teeth grind at the sound of Jaxon’s voice, but then I immediately snort, the foggy memory of what I’d done earlier dancing through my mind. I’m about to teach him a lesson in revenge. “Jaxon, this is war,” I grind out. Payback is a bitch, and she’s about to come calling for him. Literally.
Earlier, I’d wandered around, sliding notes with his name and number under the door of every single female-inhabited dorm room. Whether they interpret it as Jaxon being friendly in his role of the new resident advisor or that he’s into them, I don’t particularly give two shits. But all those girls, they’d been hot for him at the dorm meeting. Brooding good looks and attitude. The nose piercings, the full lips, those inky dark eyes. I imagine he’ll start getting random texts anytime now. I snicker.Fucker.I’m going to guess he won’t be too happy once he figures out I’m responsible for them.
Footsteps retreat down our hallway, and I wait a solid minute with my forehead pressed to the door before opening it. I look in both directions, but neither of them are in sight. Shrugging, I leave my door open and headthree doors down. Inside, Rya’s sweet voice carries to my ears, and my dick automatically twitches. My head spinning, it takes me a second when there’s a peal of laughter to realize it’s Hazel responding, not Rya laughing at her own joke.
Rya. Gotta talk to Rya. Gotta explain. My jaw works to the side, and without stalling any further, I knock twice.
Rya must have been right there on the other side of the door, because it pops open almost immediately. She blinks up at me, her eyes quickly scanning my face. They grow wide. “H-hi, Logan.” Her brows drag together. She looks so fucking pretty, and it pains me to think she looks like that because of the date she’s just returned from. She looked like that forhim.
“Oh my god, is that blood?” Hazel questions, her eyes pinned on their door.
I turn my head and the world spins. I blink. There’s a smeared red spatter all over the wood. I glance down at my hand, flexing my fingers.Oops.“I’m fine,” I mumble. “Can we talk?”
“You got this, Ry?”
My forehead creases.Huh?
“I’m good.” Rya wets her lips, glancing over her shoulder, and my eyes follow. Hazel has studiously opened up her laptop and jammed her earbuds into her ears.
Rya faces me again, gingerly taking my hand, andgestures that we should leave. She frowns up at me when I don’t move right away, then grasps my elbow and steers me all the way to my room. “Is Levi here?” she whispers.
“No. I don’t know where he is.” The words sound normal in my head as I force them out, but when the alcohol-laden syllables hit my ears—Fuck. I’m slurring badly and I know it, but there’s really nothing to be done. I’ve well and truly pickled myself. I laugh, then with a shake of my head that makes me dizzy, I stop, swaying on my feet.
“Shit.” Rya pushes my door all the way open, then maneuvers me through and closes it behind us. I slump against it, rubbing my hands over my face.
Rya’s sigh fills the silence, and when I finally pull my hands down, she’s watching me with concern. She takes my hand again, bringing it close. Her eyes remain trained on it as she mutters, “This is your pitching arm, Logan. What were you thinking?”
I grin stupidly at her because she’s so pretty.
“Were you in a fight? Who the hell—?” She jerks to a stop when I erupt into laughter and point at my mirror.
“That guy.”
Her eyes close, her lashes fanning downward as she clenches her teeth. “Logan, why?”
“’Cause.” My jaw twitches hard at the memory of the photos Jaxon sent.
“Because why?” She glances around. “Do you have a first aid kit?”
I grimace as I point toward the bottom desk drawer. “In there. But I don’t need it.”
“You’re lucky that mirror is a piece of shit and just cracked all to hell. Can you imagine what Coach Kimball would have said if you ended up with glass in your hand?”
I swallow, watching from under hooded lids as Rya squats down to rummage through the drawer for the supplies she needs, mumbling to herself all the while.
“Sit here.”
I raise a brow and shoot her a grin, which I have a feeling is sorta lopsided and pathetic.
Exhaling harshly, she places everything on the desk, then comes over, prying me away from the door that was holding me up.
“Fuckin’ vodka.”
