Be with Me (Wait for You #2)(51)

Denial. God knows I tried that when Mom saw the bruises. Pushing the quilt off me, I swung my legs off the bed. Our gazes locked, and she looked away. I took a shallow breath. “I saw the bruises on your legs.”

All the color drained from her face. “Bruises?” She then glanced down at her jeans. “What?”

“The other day. You were wearing shorts.”

Her brows furrowed as her mouth opened and then snapped shut. “I walked into the side of the bed a few days ago. That’s probably what you saw.”

Then she must’ve repeatedly walked into the bed several times over. I sat the bottle on the nightstand. “Debbie—-”

“Look, thank you for being concerned, but there’s nothing to be concerned about.” She grabbed her phone off its charger and picked up a knit cap lying on her narrow bed. “I’ve got things to do. I’ll see you later.”

I pushed to my feet. “I need to talk to you—-”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Please. You don’t understand. I’m not trying to upset you or be judgey. I just want you—-”

The door slammed shut.

“To know that I know what it feels like,” I muttered to the empty room.

Well, that went over well. Sighing, I plopped back down on the bed. The ache in my temples had decreased, but I felt like a film of grossness was covering my skin. Which was sort of appropriate considering I now felt like a douche canoe after talking to Debbie.

But I knew my suspicions weren’t off.

Gathering up my shower stuff, I headed to the bathroom. While I stood under the steady, hot stream, I replayed last night over in my head. The girl in his room. Me leaving like a lunatic. Jase in the Jeep. The taste of him in my mouth, and then him, his dark head bowed between my legs.

That image of him was forever seared into my brain.

I slid my hands down my face as I turned, letting the water hit my back. A flutter in my chest moved to my belly, and a smile peeked out from behind my fingers. The way I felt was . . . strange. Like I woke up with not only a possible hangover, but I also felt different somehow. As if I grew up a little overnight. I really didn’t know what to make out of it. It was stupid because oral sex didn’t change lives.

Well, it had been rather life--changing.

I giggled as I slid my hands through my wet hair.

As the foam from my body wash gathered on my toes, I bit down on my lip. Last night had really happened, and as I remembered, Jase hadn’t pushed me away afterward. He’d stayed until I slept. He hadn’t apologized or said that it shouldn’t have happened.

I climbed out of the shower and quickly dried off. Slipping on a pair of comfy lounge pants and a shirt, I padded through the suite, stopping to glance at the door to the other dorm, ears tingling.

Holding my breath, I listened. The sound of footsteps neared the door and then faded away. I crept to the door, clutching my shower stuff to my chest. “Hello?”

Silence.

I shook my head after waiting a few seconds and returned to my room. The first thing I did was check my phone. Nothing. A niggle of unease curled low in my stomach as I sat on my bed and grabbed my laptop.

If that conversation with Debbie hadn’t been awkward enough, she returned in the late afternoon with Erik. By that point, I’d spoken to Avery and told her the same thing I’d told Debbie. There had been no mention of Jase.

I also hadn’t heard from Jase.

But, right now, I wasn’t really thinking about him.

Erik stood in front of the desk while Debbie packed up a small overnight bag. I sat my laptop on the pillow. She didn’t look at me as she shoved a change of clothing into a small brown--and--pink bag. “You’re not staying here tonight?”

“No,” Erik answered, sending me a snotty look. “She’s staying with me.”

My temper snapped. “I was asking her.”

“Do I look like I’m deaf?” He turned to me, brow raised, and I wanted to knock that cocky smile right off his face. “Or stupid? I know you were talking to her, but—-”

“Erik.” Debbie sighed. She zipped up her bag and turned around, her cheeks flushed. “Can we not do this?”

Her boyfriend’s pupils dilated as he turned his head slowly. “Did you just interrupt me?”

The fine hairs on my body rose as I stood. The hardness and challenge in his voice threw me back several years. Muscles in my stomach twisted. I wanted to flee the room because in that moment I saw Jeremy standing there, face contorted in rage.

I don’t know what happened next.

Erik grabbed for Debbie’s bag, but she held on. Maybe she didn’t know what he was trying to do, but it set something off. Redness swept over his face as his bicep flexed. He yanked the bag back, throwing Debbie off balance as the strap was ripped from her hand. Out of instinct, I shot forward, intent on grabbing her arm so she didn’t fall. An angry retort burst from Erik as he swung the bag around. It smacked into my hip, knocking me back. I wasn’t thinking as I stumbled back, arms flying out to catch myself, but fingers grasping air.

All I saw were Debbie’s round eyes as I put my weight on my dominant leg—-my right leg—-without thinking.

My right leg immediately went out from underneath me as red--hot pain exploded in my knee. A strangled cry escaped me. I went down, landing on my ass as the air punched out of my lungs. The pain was vicious, like someone had taken a knife and shoved it through muscle and cartilage.