“I’m calling Presbyterian. I know the nurses there,” Derrick said, his phone to his ear.
My eyes rolled in my head, and I lurched forward.
“I’ll take her.” Jackson’s voice fluttered over me. It was soothing. Like warm honey. But less sticky.
“Wanna go… home.” My mouth felt like it was full of cotton, dry and muddled. The heat of the sun was hot on my face, its reflection off the surfaces shimmered in my vision; the tiles under my feet, the people gathered around, the decor… it all shifted out of focus, like looking at it all through a thin piece of gauze.
“We need to find out what’s in your system.” Jackson’s hand rubbed my back and I leaned into it.
“Drugged?” I asked, my processing abilities working at less than ideal speed.
“Don’t worry,” Jackson spoke in my ear. “I’ll take care of you.”
Jackson scooped me up. Wheee! I’m flying.
“Stop wiggling, Peyton,” Jackson scolded, but worry tinged his frustration.
“I’ve dealt with stuff like this many times.” It was Derrick’s voice, forceful. “I’ll get her to a hospital.”
“I’ve got her.” Jackson’s voice was all business and I snuggled into him. My security blanket. “The Uber’s arriving. Stay here with the people from NOW and do damage control.”
My body bounced in Jackson’s arms as we went down the stairs to the lower level. Derrick and Jackson and Analise’s voices echoed off the walls. There was a chime and then I was wrapped in a cocoon of metal going downward.
“Her name’s Peyton Holland. We think she’s been drugged. My colleague Jackson Rhodes is bringing her to you now.” Derrick was speaking but I couldn’t make out who he was talking to.
Traffic swished around me, warm air rushing over my skin. I was lifted into a car, and the sounds were muted. I sank into soft leather; my body heavy, my limbs jelly.
“Call me when you find out what’s in her system,” Derrick said somewhere far away.
“I’m sleepy.” I lay my head against the door.
We jerked forward, and my head bounced against the plastic frame. The movement made me queasy. Strong arms pulled me into a solid chest. I shut my eyes, and the warped world around me disappeared.
There was a cloud below me. A soft, snuggly cloud. I curled into the comfort, unsure of where I was but not caring, half in a dream in this dark place.
“Rest.” A deep male voice spoke out in the darkness.
“God?” I said, bleary, disappointed. I thought God would be a woman.
Deep laughter filled the room. A soft light flickered on. The room spun in a teetering carousal. I closed my eyes.
Okay. I wasn’t dead. I didn’t really think that I was, but my mind wasn’t working properly. A glass clinked next to me. I peeled one eyelid open against the light. Jackson was retreating from the bed—not a cloud—I lay on.
“Don’t go.” I was slurring, my chest contracting in panic.
“I’m right here.” He scooted against the pillows on top of the duvet, fully dressed except for his shoes.
“Where am I?” I asked, my head buried in the pillow. It was too heavy to lift. Every part of me felt like it was filled with sand.
“My bedroom. Is that okay?”
He rested his hand on my wrist, his fingers pressing every so often, and I realized he was checking my pulse.
“The room is whirling,” I said. The heaviness suddenly vanished and I felt light, like floating in space. “But I feel kinda good.”
I rolled to my side and stared up at him. Oh, those beautiful blue eyes. They were etched with concern and I chuffed thinking that worry was for me.
“Hiya.” I smiled. At least I think I smiled. It was hard to do anything. My muscles ached with even the slightest movement.
“Hi.” He was not smiling.
“How am I here?” I asked.
“We just came from the hospital. Luckily, Derrick has connections so we got right in, and they did some tests. They said you’ll be okay.”
My fingers squeezed his lips together making him look like a duck. I needed him to stop talking. It hurt my pounding head.
“Can’t think.” I snuggled into his warm chest, my nose squishing into his ribs. He smelled of detergent, sweat, and mint.
“You smell nice.”
“Thank you.”
He pushed my hair from my face. There was such sadness there. A sadness he often had when I pressed him about Kat.
“I’m sorry about your ex. Is she back with…” I struggled to recall the boyfriend’s name but words were hard. “The guy?”
“Yes.”
“Are you upset?”
He didn’t say anything. His head rested against the headboard, his eyes shut.
“It’s not easy,” he said.
I rocked back into his body. “You’re so comfy. Can I live here?”
“In my apartment?”
“In your chest.”
He laughed, and it vibrated against my ear.
“But you love her.” It wasn’t a question.
“I think you were right. I’m her security blanket.”
His shirt was cotton, with a flag design on it for the holiday. The lines of the print stuck to my face. I shifted, the design peeling from my cheek, then I fell back into him.
“Did you miss me in… that faraway place?” I asked, unable to remember where he’d gone after our fight.
“Yes.”
My throat felt like sandpaper and it hurt to swallow. “Water. More water.”
The mattress shifted and I faceplanted into his pillow. He helped me sit up and I gulped the elixir.
“It’s minty,” I said.
“For inflammation and stomach nausea.” The mattress sank and I rolled back into him. Being with him was like—not home exactly—but a nice vacation.
“I was annoyed at you when I first left,” he said. “But on the plane home, I thought a lot about it.”
“What did you think?” My mind swirled, and I concentrated extra hard, trying to gain purchase, needing to hear his answer.
The traffic buzzed outside, fireworks went off around the city, and the air conditioner whirred.
He didn’t answer.
I rested my hand on his chest and pushed up.
“Have I been roofied?” I asked, remembering the party and my sudden exit.
His hand clenched the duvet. “That’s what the test said.”
It didn’t bother me. Nothing bothered me. I was relaxed and free and calm. Obviously, side effects of the drug. But none of that mattered.
“Answer my questions. I won’t remember any of this anyway.” I patted him on the arm reassuringly.
“I want you to remember,” he said. “But it’s probably better if you don’t.”
“Did you have fake fights with me in your head?”
His laughter rumbled in his chest, vibrating against my cheek.
“Too many of them,” he said.
“I fought with you, too.” I smiled. “I told you what an idiot you are. You know, for all the things.”
“I am an idiot.” He shook his head. “But I was very much in love with Kat when she told me she couldn’t be married to me or anyone. And we have a child together.”
“Evie is worried about you.”
Jackson shifted and his collarbone cut into my cheek. I rolled off him and stared at the ceiling.
“She thinks you need to grow a backbone,” I said.
The room was silent. My stomach ached and I rolled back and forth, but it didn’t help. I slid to the floor, the cool hardwood soothing against my skin. Jackson rested his head at the edge of the bed above me, watching.
“We had a long talk on the phone the other night,” Jackson said. “Evie told Kat she couldn’t run away from Devan. That’s why she’s not moving back in. Sometimes I think Evie’s the adult and we’re the kids.”
His arm hung over the side and I lifted my hand and played with the tips of his fingers.
“I knew I liked her,” I said. “She’s smart.”
“Very smart.”
“I like you, too.”
He squeezed my hand, then released it. “How are things with Derrick?”
“Good.” I yawned. “I’m sleepy.”
“Then sleep.”
I drifted off and dreamed of Derrick and Jackson…and Brody crying in the bathroom.
The sky was black outside the windows when I woke up. Jackson wasn’t in the room and I was back on the bed. My mind was groggy, my feet heavy, but I made it to the bathroom, peed, and washed my hands. I splashed water on my face and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash.
After that, I crawled back into bed. The room was still spinning and wondered if I’d ever feel normal again.
“How are you doing?” Jackson leaned against the door frame.
I blew air through my lips, buzzing them. “Out of it.”
“I’m glad you slept for a bit.”
I reached my arms up like a zombie. “I want to rest on you.”
He sighed as he wrapped me into his chest.
“You’re heavenly.” I glanced up at him, but couldn’t focus. “And very cute.”
His palm brushed down my cheek, his eyes landing on my mouth. My nerve endings came to life, remembering being with him.
“I want to kiss you,” I said. “You’ve kissed my other lips. You’ve done lots of things to those lips.”
He groaned, shifting under me. “Fuck, Peyton. Don’t say that right now.”
“Why not?” I popped my bottom lip out in a pout.
“It turns me on and I’m not doing anything with you while you’re like this.”
“But I want to.” I slid my nose along his jaw, breathing in his warm earthy fragrance. “I won’t even remember in the morning.”
His eyelids fell shut, and he released a long breath. I brushed my lips over the corner of his mouth, a chill rushing down my back. He rocked his head back and forth in a miniscule movement, his lips grazing mine. He groaned, a sound full of want and frustration.
“We shouldn’t,” he said, the air from his words tickling my lips.
“But you want to.” The hunger to kiss him cloyed at my insides like a ravenous animal.
“God, yes.”
His palms slid around my neck and his fingers dug into my hair, gripping at the roots. He pressed his lips firmly against mine, binding us together, and the fire under my skin burst into an inferno. I sighed, luxuriating in the scorching desire coursing through my veins as his lips pressed and nipped at mine in slow, savoring touches.
I shifted my leg over his thighs, but my limbs felt like they were moving through molasses.
His hands slid from my neck and cupped my cheeks, his fingers tickling my earlobes. He edged my lips apart and slid his satin tongue inside, exploring my mouth in a languid slow-dance. I hitched my hips forward, and I gasped when his hard cock hit my clit under my clothes.
Our tongues collided in a frenzied tango, an undercurrent of need clawing at us. Desire pulsed in every cell, but my energy suddenly seeped out of me and I popped my lips from him, gasping for air.
The room spun and my stomach roiled. I rested my forehead against his temple, panting from the exertion, wanting more, but unable to catch my breath.
“I’m dizzy,” I said. My body was ablaze, but my fragile state couldn’t handle what I craved.
He swallowed, swiping a finger over my bottom lip, then kissed me lightly where his finger had been.
“It was too much,” he whispered.
My mouth opened in a big yawn and I sank into the pillow. “I wanna go night night.”
“Rest, sweet girl.”
I put my hand out and he took it. The kiss had taken me to another world. A place that was real and not part of our game.
Our hands held tight, and I slowly released his fingers one by one, but when I got to his ring finger, warm metal passed under my fingertip, and I crashed back to reality.
“Thanks for the lesson,” I said, throwing a wall between me and the kiss, protecting the ache in my chest. It was a reminder—to me—that this wasn’t real. “We can mark kissing off the syllabus.”
Jackson dropped my hand and the darkness closed in, dragging me off into oblivion.