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He finally puts his phone down and grabs the water, holding it to my lips. I take a few swallows before having the strength to actually hold my own cup. I down it, my mouth suddenly as dry as the desert, the water only quenching it so much. Lucas takes the empty glass from me. “I’m going to go grab you some more so you can take that pain reliever, okay? Just hold on.”
He passes Wyatt in the hallway who waits for him to leave before he waltzes in. It’s one of the only times I’ve seen him without his cowboy hat on. “You look like shit, Tits.”
“I feel like shit,” I grumble. It feels like I have the hangover from hell yet also still drunk at the same time. It’s taking way too long for things to compute inside my head. Like I can see the words coming in, but I have to disseminate them one by one before drawing conclusions about what’s being said. “What happened?”
Wyatt leans against the glass wall, dropping his head to the glass. He shakes his head. “It’s my fault. I didn’t fucking lock back up after the pizza guy came.”
I narrow my gaze at him. “I don’t—”
Lucas comes back in. “We’ll get to that,” he snaps, glaring at Wyatt who sighs, shoulders drooping.
“She asked, dude.”
“Just let her wake up for a second because she’s not going to understand anything until she does.”
He’s got a point there.
“Thanks,” Lucas says smiling.
“Jesus. Fuck me,” I say, wishing I could tell the difference between saying things out loud and saying them in my head.
Wyatt winks. “Just tell me when you’re down, Tits. I’ll rock your world.”
“I already know your type, Wyatt. You’d tap it once then convince yourself you don’t need it again, and then we’d be like lost little puppies in a cardboard box, never finding a way out.”
Wyatt frowns. “Some of that made sense. Some of it didn’t.”
Lucas hands me two pills and the glass of water again. I take the pain reliever, then continue to drink until the glass is empty again.
After a couple of minutes, I sit up in bed. The swimming through quicksand feeling has rescinded, and I’m fairly sure I can talk without thinking I’m saying things in my head but saying them out loud instead.
“You should take a shower,” Wyatt suggests. “It’ll make you feel better. Let me know if you want to be lost little puppies.” He lifts his brows seductively.
I smirk. “I can already tell I’m not going to live that one down.”
“‘Fraid not, Tits.”
I shrug and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Lucas is right there. He helps me to my feet and stands right next to me to make sure I don’t fall over. “Good?”
“Good,” I tell him, thankful he’s here to help. That they both are. I can’t imagine what I would’ve done if I’d woken up all alone after something like that. I would’ve freaked the fuck out, I know that. “I think I can handle it from here.”
Lucas’s face pinches. “I’ll check on you but come out to the living room when you’re done.”
I nod in agreement, and then the two of them leave. My feet feel like sledgehammers as I make my way into the bathroom. I start the shower and then strip. The rain showerhead thrums across my scalp in nice, even drops. It’s divine. While standing there, I dissect what happened. Someone knocked us out. They put something in our food. The dorm room. My father’s house. Now this. There’s something more going on that those three assholes need to come clean about.
The simmering anger over the intrusion into our lives spurs me to move faster. I shut the showerhead off and ring out my hair. Stepping out of the shower, I quickly dry off before going into the room to find clothes to throw on. I settle for a pair of my pajamas. The dark night full of stars I spy through the glass ceiling in the bathroom tells me it’s some time in the middle of the night. We must’ve been passed out for hours.
I walk out of my bedroom in a flimsy pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. I threw a bra on under the shirt because I decided my nipples were too visible. I wouldn’t mind Lucas seeing that, but Wyatt’s too much of a manwhore and Stone is just...well...a dick.
I pass through the hallway, feeling much better. The throbbing pain in my head is still there, but my brain and muscle functionality has pretty much returned to normal the longer I’m awake. The shower helped a lot too, just as Wyatt said.
Before I even get to the living room, Stone’s raised voice carries toward me. It doesn’t take long to figure out that he’s not talking to Wyatt or Lucas, he’s on the phone. “It was a mistake,” he growls. When I emerge, his head snaps up to meet me. His irises are huge. His hair is disheveled like he’s run his fingers through it ever since he woke up from being drugged. His face is pale, and if I didn’t know the true Stone Jacobs, I’d feel sorry for the guy in front of me. He looks like he could use a hug.
Not from me. Definitely not from me.
“We’re taking care of it,” he snaps again. A beat of silence follows before he stands up straight, throwing his shoulders back like a soldier standing at attention. “No. No, of course not. Yes, Father.”
Lucas comes up behind me, entwining our fingers. Stone’s gaze drops to our joined hands, and his eyes flare with something like jealousy.