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I can feel the color drain from my face.
“So, did you and Rodney hook up? Did you not tell him you were on the rag and fucked him anyway?” Ashton’s tone is subdued, not showing any signs of his typical jokester self.
They weren’t supposed to find out, at least not this way. With the way they have all been acting, it seemed inevitable that they would.
How are they going to act?
They have all had their hands on my body.
Do they think that this was intentional on my part?
The stress makes my body shake. The room starts to spin, and I can’t catch my breath. Vaguely hearing someone speaking, my head feels like it’s in a vacuum. Hands are on me, but everything is jumbled until it all goes black.
* * *
Warm, my body is so hot. It feels like Calista raised the temperature, and it needs to be turned down. Trying to kick the blankets off, I realize that I am not alone in bed. Immediately startling me and causing me to let out a yelp. A gruff, sleepy voice mumbles close to my ear.
“Relax, Duchess, go back to sleep.”
My body stiffens, realizing Ashton is in the bed with me.
“Where am I? Why am I here?” My voice is full of panic. My breathing is picking up, too.
“You passed out on me, and I didn’t want to leave you alone. Gareth has been keeping an eye on Rodney.”
My body stiffens at the mention of Rodney, not ready to face him or what happened in the football stadium.
“I want to go back to my room. Let me up.” Pushing at his body and getting nowhere, my voice wobbles.
Callum’s grumpy voice interrupts our argument as Ashton’s hold on me tightens.
“For fuck’s sake, will the two of you shut up. Some of us want to sleep.”
“If Ashton would let me leave, we could all go back to sleep,” I bite out at Callum.
“Duchess, you aren’t going anywhere until you tell me why you left the game. What happened between you and Rodney? Why did you get so worked up about me asking that you passed out?” Ashton fires a barrage of questions at me, not letting me respond to one before the next is asked.
Callum mumbles under his breath as the rustling of material fills the room. The overhead light comes on without warning, causing me to squint at the sudden illumination. Ashton shuffles around on the bed, sitting against the headboard. He pulls me into the vee of his legs, forcing me to recline against his chest. He wraps his arms around me, preventing me from getting out of bed.
Callum pulls a desk chair over, spinning it around to rest his arms on the top of the back, blocking the door in the process. He and Ashton have one of their silent conversations before Callum starts to speak.
“Listen, Kennedy, we need to know what happened between you and Rodney last night.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. As previously explained to Ashton, I wasn’t feeling well and left.”
“So, if one of us goes to your room, we won’t find any clothes with blood on them?”
The room starts to spin again, and my body stiffens. Ashton tightens his hold on me, cooing in my ear.
“Okay, so by your reaction, it’s safe to assume that you and Rodney fucked. Why didn’t you stop and tell him you were on your rag before it went too far?”
It takes a minute for Callum’s words to sink into my foggy mind. He doesn’t seem mad, but there is something about his tone. Do I just let them continue to think I was on my period and move on, or take a chance telling them the truth, unsure how much of last night Rodney remembers?
“Answer the question, Kennedy. Why didn’t you tell him?”
Callum is getting angry at me now.
I did nothing wrong—their friend did.
