Page 3 of This Is Love
I allow those agonizing thoughts—along with a sense of frustration as to how this happened—to tick around in my mind before all of it evolves into even more worries. Bracing an elbow on the SUV’s door, I rub a hand roughly over my face. What was I thinking? I told everyone at the party that I let Logan blow me. Who knows what people are thinking now. Not that I give a fuck, because I do believe it’d been an effective slap at my stepbrother. But I really don’t need knowledge of my drunken shenanigansgetting around. And I especially don’t need my father catching wind of it.Fuck.That was fucking stupid.
A tormented, savage breath rattles from my lungs. The reality is, in that moment, I couldn’t help myself. I fucking wanted it. Wantedhim. My face burns with the memory of my cock deep in his throat and those blue eyes seeking mine out in the dark. I can fucking tell myself it was about the money if that’ll help me sleep at night. But that wasn’t it. Not at all.
Convenient fucking excuse.
I’m going to make him pay for messing with my fucking head so thoroughly.
I give myself an internal shake as my driver pulls up to the ER entrance. Pushing open the door, I give him a gruffthank youas I unfold myself from the seat and bail out of the car, then slam the door shut behind me.
One last thing pops into my head as I stride toward the entrance. Logan and his best friend are somewhere inside. Guilt crashes down on me again. I don’t have a fucking clue how to explain tonight’s bizarre hookup to Rya—and there’s zero doubt in my mind that at some point she’ll become aware of what transpired between Logan and me. Shewillfind out.
Logan and I have launched a cannonball at her. But which of us will it take down?
2
LOGAN
I’m beyond annoyed.The hospital staff wouldn’t let me stay with Rya, and I don’t know why. The only reason I can come up with is that I’m not family, and she’s unconscious and unable to consent to me being present while she’s examined. Okay, fine. Maybe that’s normal. I don’t fucking know.
When they ushered me away, there was a part of me that’d wanted to fight, to tear free of the hands guiding me toward the waiting room and race back to Rya. As it was, I already left my heart there on the gurney beside her. My mind threatens to slip into disturbing thoughts of codes being called and personnel rushing toward my girl. All the things that could go wrong. I assume she was given a drug of some sort at the party.But how the fuck?
I scrub my hands over my face, frustration and worry crashing down on me. I’d watched the entire way over as she was monitored, hooked up to all sorts of equipment that I’m clueless about. Even though the responders obviously knew what they were doing, it’d given me no comfort. That won’t come until Rya opens her eyes and lets me know with words from her own lips that she’s going to be okay.
Heaving out an unsettled breath, I brace my forearms on my knees and hunch over, knowing I’m drawing attention with my heartache and misery. Unseeing, I stare at my phone as I make a valiant attempt not to completely lose it. Just then, it vibrates in my hand.
It takes me a second to focus on the device, and when I’m finally able to blink back the emotion rioting through me, I see a text from Levi. For a moment, I was certain it’d be from Jaxon, claiming his ultimate vengeance on me, revealing he’d done this to Rya as a final farewell kiss-off.
Expelling a long breath, I tap on the notification to read the text from my roommate.
Hey. I saw you get into an ambo with Rya.
She okay?
What the fuck happened?
We don’t really know.
She’s been… drugged, I guess.
The fuck.
Seriously?
Yes, seriously. I blow out a breath, attempting to shake off the agitation filling me. I know Levi isn’t really questioning what I’m saying. If his disbelief is half what mine is, his response is understandable.
Oh, fuck. Okay.
I got Hazel back to the dorm and was kinda waiting up.
Didn’t know if you’d need to talk.
About?
Are you fucking kidding me?
You and Jaxon and the chaotic noise between you.
And apparently one hell of a blowie?
