Page 55 of Drag Me Down

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My head darts around the party in desperation. “How did he end up in the pool? Did someone push him in? Who fucking did it?”

No one fesses up, and I know the truth. I left him out here alone, tripping on something he took when I wasn’t watching him like I should have been.Left him high and scared and pleading for my help.

Tears spill from my eyes as I slam my hands down on his ribcage, willing the water from his lungs. His lips are blue, his skin too cold. I pry his mouth open and force air into his lungs.

But there’s no pulse when I rest my fingers against his neck.

My vision blurs and I let out a sob, collapsing over the corpse of my little brother as sirens wail in the distance and people scatter from the scene like roaches.

Twenty-Four

Hail

Iwakeupinthe hotel hallway, cramped and groaning.

Call me weak, but the idea of getting back on the bus after the way Z and I left things the other night makes my stomach contort.

Will he even be getting on the tour bus?

My fist comes down on his door. When he cracks it open, to my utter shock, his eyes are rimmed with red and his hair is plastered to his head on one side like he slept on a hard surface. He’s shirtless and dressed in my favorite low-riding sweats.

At least he changed sometime in the night. That’s good, right? Did he sleep at all? Where do we stand now? Can I just fucking hug him already?

“Hey.” I push the word out, wincing at the sharp pain in my throat from my idiotic chain-smoking.

“Hey.”

I pop my knuckles, struggling to pluck the right words to branch the distance between us. “I’m sorry for last night.”

He reaches out to grip my shirt in his fist, then he draws me against his body, tucking this head into the crook of my neck. My breath comes out in a long gust as if I’d been holding it all night.

“I care so much for you. I hope you know that,” I say, nuzzling in tighter. “I would never want to force you into a situation you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know,” Z says. “Sorry for the way I acted last night. It was hard getting back out there. Different from Selma’s. I thought I could handle it. When I couldn’t, I resorted to normal dickish behaviour.”

I hold him for a while, basking in his clean scent, my lips brushing over his smooth, addictive skin. Clearing my throat, I dare ask, “So, are we good? I mean, are you quitting the tour or…”

“I’m not quitting.” His fingers clench around my shirt tighter. “I’m not giving up on us, either. If that’s something you still want with me.”

Gently, I take his chin in my hand and lure his mouth to mine. We kiss long enough to toe up to the line of what is publicly acceptable, and then my stomach growls, causing us both to chuckle.

“Well, you know what this calls for?” I ask, nipping at his ear.

“More sex?” His tone is hopeful.

I chuckle. “Breakfast first, tiger.“

Z eases back, his brows furrowed. I run my thumb along his sharp jawline, questioning my determination to go out when we could order DoorDash and hole up in a hotel room instead.

“You ever had Snooze before?”

“Snooze?” His brows furrow.

I grin. “Flights of pancakes and big cups of coffee.”

Z offers me a soft smile. Chalk that up as a win.

---