“Yeah,” I nod. “I haven’t spoken to him since he left. It sounds like Z left him a message telling him what happened, probably assuming he was on stage. Told him you were in an accident, but not much else. I guess Z said I was there, so he called me.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him you were okay. They were keeping you overnight for observation, and they were releasing you this morning, hence the calls.” Almost as if it were on command, the phone rings again. Without even looking at the screen, Drew silences it, turning it over onto its face, and just continues to stare at me while I finish.
“Now, why are you forcing everyone away from you?”
“Because I can’t stand the pity looks.” She groans. “Just like you’ve been looking at me since you walked in. I don’t need anyone’s pity. I wasn’t raped.” Her words are so blunt that they take me back a bit.
“Not for lack of trying.” Trying to make sure she understandsthe severity of the situation. “And it’s not pity here.”
She rolls her eyes.
“It’s not. Concern. Maybe?”
“Why are you even concerned? It’s not like you ever liked me, anyway.”
She’s got me. I’m assuming it’s the loyalty I still feel to Z… to Ash… to Zeke, but something inside me needs to make sure she’s okay.
“Well, you were a pain in the ass, so…”
Her mouth drops open before a laugh starts, and then she winces, grabbing at her sides.
“You’re five years younger than us and a girl. Of course, you annoyed us. And if I remember correctly, you never liked me either.”
“You used to call me Sketch.”
I can’t help but laugh out this time, remembering the nickname, as a smirk spreads on her lips.
“Because you hated it.”
“I always hated you.” She mutters, looking up at me. A smirk lingering just behind her eyes.
A part of my brain tells me I need to leave.
“That tracks. I was always an asshole to you.”
Obviously, I’m not listening.
“But now you’re being nice?”
“I’ve changed.” I can’t stop myself.
“Hmm,” she huffs, “that’s unfortunate.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, Sketch.” I tease her.
“I still fucking hate that name.” She shakes her head.
Her lips slam down onto mine. It stuns me, but I don’t stop her, my hand falling down, finding its way to her hip, pulling her into me. She slips her tongue past my lips, and I taste her. My hand now sliding over and gripping the curve of her ass. A whimper comes out as her body presses flush against mine.
Her hands slide to my belt as she unbuckles and pops the button on my jeans.
Pressing onto her shoulders, pushing her away, I look down.
“What is happening?” I’m gasping, realizing what’s playing out.
“I’m processing.” She smirks back at me.
