Page 162 of Top Shelf

My pulse stutters unexpectedly.

In the blink of an eye, the night seems to shift. Lights flash. Loud music comes and goes. The ground beneath my feet tilts sideways.

“Hey. Are you listening to me?”

The sound of his voice makes my skin crawl. A sudden bout of nausea climbs the back of my throat, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to puke.

He grabs me by the shoulders, right as I bend over and throw up all over his shoes.

“You bitch!”

“What the fuck is going on here?!”

I can’t describe the relief that floods me at hearing Ronan’s voice, even if he sounds furious as all hell.

A hand closes around Isaac’s wrist, wrenching him away from me, before Ronan’s face appears before mine. His jaw ticks with rage, but his eyes are soft, concerned.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“What the hell, man? I didn’t touch her! We were just chatting before she destroyed my shoes.”

“I’m fine,” I get out. Now that he’s here, the wave has eased. The past has retreated to where it belongs—in the past.

“What did he do to you?”

“Dude! I didn’t?—”

“Evans,” Ronan barks, cutting across him without once looking his way. “Get the fuck out of here before I do something that has us both benched for the Frozen Four.”

“What the fuck ever,” Isaac mumbles. “She’s not fucking worth it, anyway.”

Shaking his head, he walks off, leaving Ronan and me alone in the middle of campus.

“Hey.” Ronan cups my face, making me focus on him and only him. “Talk to me. What happened?”

“I—” Pausing, I lick my lips. “I was just on my way home, and he was here. I think…he’s jealous that I turned him down when he asked me out.”

“He had his hands on you.”

I shake my head. “The smell of alcohol on his breath triggered me.”

“Come here.” He pulls me into his chest. “You’re okay.” With his hand on the back of my head, I bury my nose in his coat. The smell of leather and oud wraps around me, grounding me firmly in the present and allowing my heart rate to finally slow. “You’re okay.”

We stand like that for who knows how long. Until the shakes leave my limbs and my breath comes evenly. Until the fear has retreated, along with the flashbacks.

“Come on,” Ronan eventually says, when I shiver from the cold seeping into my bones. Running his hand down my arm, he slides his fingers between mine and squeezes. “Let’s go home.”

And I know he doesn’t mean to my house, or his house. He means home to Silas and Lucian. Because wherever the three of them are is my home.

My eyes flutter open. Sunlight spills through the blinds, painting pale gold stripes across the room. For a moment, I lie there and stare at it, not allowing my mind to drift any further than the shaft of light.

Until the sound of a page turning draws my attention.

Rolling over, I face Silas. He’s a little blurry without my glasses on, but he’s sitting against the headboard beside me, knees bent beneath the blankets, and an open book balanced on his thigh.

For a moment, I just watch him.

His quiet steadiness. The way he always seems to exist in a different rhythm than everyone else. I think that’s why it’s his bed I crawled into last night.