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“What did you say to me?” he demanded. His voice was loud, making me flinch, which only had him pressing tighter to me. The feel of his body on mine sent another rush of heat through me that I berated myself for. He’d scent the slick pooling between my legs if I didn’t stop.
Don’t even think about it, Harlow. He’s not yours.
He was a fucking asshole. Not even an attractive one.
No, that was a lie.
Drake was delicious . . . and off-limits.
Maybe that was what made me want him. Every brooding stare, the way he chuckled darkly to himself during group sessions, each angry glare my way made me more curious about the prick.
Something’s seriously wrong with me.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were too dumb to understand. I said, fuck. Off.” Making sure to enunciate the words the best I could around my limited oxygen supply.
He started to smirk before shoving hard against me, then letting go.
“I’d watch that mouth of yours, it’ll get you in trouble,” he warned me as he stepped away. His glare was back, and I scoffed.
“By you? You’re merely a patient here, trapped just like I am, Drake. I don’t fear you,” I lied. He did scare me, but not in the sense that he’d kill me, more the sense that he’d ruin me in the best and worst ways.
“You should,” he said with a cold laugh, giving me one last long look before leaving the room.
Did he want me like I wanted him?
It took me several minutes to recover before I gathered my laundry and went back to my room, glad I wouldn’t have to go back for another solid week.
“Hey,” Crew said as I passed him in the hall. I muttered a response but didn’t bother to look up, still reeling from the confrontation. “Hold up.”
Groaning internally, I stopped but didn’t turn around.
“What?” My words were sharper than I intended, and I expected him to back away. But Crew wasn’t the type. Even when someone snapped at him, he never lost his cool. It was insane to me.
“What’s wrong?” This time he walked around me and took my basket, leading us into my room. Thankfully, he just sat it down by the bed and didn’t try to fold my stuff.
His scent was subtle and not what I wanted right now. It was the scent of burning metal and wood. Fitting, he was obsessed with fire and watching things burn.
“Just not sleeping,” I muttered. “And Drake was super pleasant in the laundry room.”
He chuckled at that. “I’m shocked about Drake. He’s such a sweetheart.”
That broke the fog I was in and a slightly unhinged laugh escaped.
“Can I ask you something?” I started, finally finding a way to ask about what I’ve been seeing. Thanks to the meds, my hallucinations have been at an all-time low.
Except at night.
“Sure,” he said eagerly. Part of me felt guilty that I was using him for answers. He was always eager to be around me, flirting constantly, but I wasn’t interested in more.
“Why does everyone say to not leave their rooms at night?” He tried to hide it, but I noticed a hint of fear in his eyes before he just shrugged.
The coverup was quick enough that I questioned if it was there at all.
“Probably so the nurses don’t have to leave the nurses’ station,” he countered. “Sometimes Layne has nightmares.”
“How is she today?” I asked at the mention of the only other girl on our floor. She was getting quieter by the day, and I hadn’t seen her in two.
“She gets like this sometimes,” he said. “Deep depression. They move her to another floor for a few days, then she comes back after a bit. She’ll be fine. She hasn’t dipped low enough to be moved yet.”
