Page 5 of This Is Love
He casts a slick glance my way before rolling his shoulders back and closing his eyes for a moment. “If you don’t like the games Trip plays, why doyoukeep fucking going back?”
Dickhead.“Hasn’t ever been my choice. And trust me, if I could predict the future, I sure as fuck wouldn’t have let any of it happen. Life would be a lot simpler.” I flick disgusted eyes in his direction. “Especially not the second time. And not just because of Rya, asshole. Keep fucking with me, and I’ll make you regret it.”
Something flickers behind his eyes, but it’s gone before I can determine what it is. “I don’t do shit I regret. Except maybe I should have demanded that Trip let me leave with Rya before any of this went down. That I’ll accept responsibility for.” His gaze drops to my lips, homing in there for several long seconds. His chest jerks, and if I’m not mistaken, I know the path his mind has taken. Fucker is thinking about getting sucked off in that closet… because if they’d left the party, thatneverwould have happened.
My lip curls as a throat clearing grabs our attention. “Were one of you here with Rya Monroe?”
There’s an odd sensation of my stomach plummeting at the same time I jolt to my feet. “That’s me.”
But I don’t know if she heard me because Jaxon’s “I’m here for Rya” is louder. Already out of the chair and taking a step toward her, he aims anxious eyes at the woman, a charming smile on his face. His head swivels toward me, that smoothness instantly dropping to be replaced by a sharp look and angry tilt of his mouth.
The woman’s eyes bounce between us, uncertainty slipping across her features. She’s in scrubs, so I’m assuming she’s a nurse. “Um. You can both come. But just in case there are more friends on the way, know that only two are allowed back with a patient at a time.”
“No one else is coming.” Jaxon shakes his head. “Not at this hour.”
Some of the hostility heavy in the air must be obvious to her because she squints at us before holding up a hand. “Be warned, she’s out of it still and not feeling well. But that’s to be expected. No loud voices back there. Nothing to upset her. She’s had a rough time of it since she gained consciousness.”
“Got it.” The words scrape from my throat, hoarse and horrified. This nurse is trying to prepare us for something, but I’m unsure what.
“Anyway, I assume one of you is Logan and the other must be Jaxon. She’s asked for both of you.”
At our nods, she pivots, beckoning for us to follow her through a set of double doors into the main part of the ER. It’s… sterile. A nurses’ station is situated in the center, and it’s set up on three sides with a row of curtained-off exam areas. At first, I think she’s taking us to one of those, so my brows dart together when she moves toward a hallway with individual rooms instead.
“She’s back here. We thought it wise to give her some privacy.” As we get to the end of the hall, the woman gives us a careful smile. “I’m Charlie, if you need anything.” She stops in front of a door, knocks gently, then pokes her head in. “Rya? I’ve got a couple worried guys out here. Can they come in to sit with you?”
“Logan and Jaxon?” Our names scratch up from her throat, sounding weak and tired. My chest constricts as Charlie pushes the door open farther.
The sight before me threatens to take me out. Rya lies in bed, pale and dazed, her eyes unfocused. The hospital gown dwarfs her slight frame, and she’s hooked up to an IV, receiving fluids and who knows what else.
“She’s been nauseated and drowsy,” Charlie says in a quiet voice. “Do you all know who she was with? Or have any idea what she was given or how it happened? The doctor orderedblood tests, and we managed a urine sample when she first got here.” Her lips press together as she glances first at us, then at Rya, whose eyelids have fluttered shut again.
I sweat as my mind begins to connect the dots between what little she’s telling us and the questions she’s asking in conjunction with the need for privacy and the testing. A sick feeling churns in my gut. I turn my head to see Jaxon’s reaction to the information the nurse has given us.
A certain uneasiness has fallen over his features. I can’t forget I’m pissed at him, but—my teeth grind together—he’s putting on a really good fucking act if he doesn’t share my concerns. “Sorry, do you mean…” Jaxon stops, biting his lower lip as he casts a wary gaze at me that slams into me with such force, I practically stumble backward.
Blinking hard, my world spins. When Rya had the hangover after the first party of the semester, I’d held a degree of concern about what happened while she was passed out… but now I know true terror. Slowly, I wrench the question from where it’s lodged in my throat. “Was she assaulted?”
3
RYA
The throbbingin my head is secondary only to the nausea making itself known again. I’ve never had a hangover like this. Never felt this way before in my entire life. I blink as my eyes flutter open. Where am I? Is the ceiling above me abnormally high or is my brain playing tricks on me? Nothing else makes sense, either. Not the way the room smells or the intermittent beeps coming from somewhere off to my left. My brows knit together, but the crease down the middle of my forehead hurts, so I end up wincing instead.
Swallowing is difficult with my throat so parched. I’d like a gallon of water one second, and, in the next second, my stomach pitches violently, reminding me of how bad an idea that would be.
Moaning, I try to roll away from a light source that shouldn’t be there, and I’m immediately reminded of the morning I woke up in Jaxon’s room and didn’t know where I was. If I thought that was the worst I’d ever feel in my life… well, I was very, very wrong. Dragging in an unsteady breath, I will it all away. Both the thumping in my head and the twisting of my stomach pointto me having somehow rained hell down on myself again.But had I?I can’t possibly be that dumb.
Why can’t I remember shit? What day is it?Whimpering, I turn my face into the pillow only to find it flat and uncomfortable, the pillowcase rough. Awareness that I’m not in my own bed in Deveney Hall sends a shudder of unease through me. Hazy memories come to me—bright lights shining in my eyes and efficient, clinical voices. A hospital. I’m in a hospital.But how did I get here? What happened to me?
“Rya? Are you awake?” comes a voice from my right.
Then from my left, there’s another. “She need some water?”
Both voices are familiar. But holy weirdness. I must be really fucked-up because Logan and Jaxon would never willingly be in a room together if they could help it. My brain claws and scratches to remember something—anything—from last night. The more I try, though, the more obvious it is that it’s all just… black. There’s nothing. And the effort makes my head pound and pound.
“Tiny Dancer, can you sip at this?”Logan. My heart pangs, needing to believe he’s actually here and not a figment of my imagination. There’s a nudge of a straw at my lower lip, and I know he must be. Only he’d be so insistent that I hydrate. I pinch my eyes tighter as I accept the tip into my mouth and suck. Cool liquid floods my mouth, and I release a tiny groan of pleasure, but then as it slides down my greedy throat, my stomach rebels angrily. On a choked cry, I try to prop myself up. There’s movement behind me on the mattress, then I sense something being held under my chin. A hand brushes wild tresses of hair from my face while another gently holds my shoulder.
“It’s okay if it doesn’t stay down, Ry. You’re getting IV fluids.”
