“Love you too,” Seb grinned.
Surprisingly, hearing about what Dean used to do with other girls — as vague as the details were — didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. If anything, it just made me strangely more excited. He was experienced. Not that I didn’t already know that.
“What are we calling you two by the way?” Seb asked, crossing one ankle over the other.
Dean rolled his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Couple names.”
It was hard not to hide my smile when Dean’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Couple names?”
“It’s when you mash a couple's names together,” I explained.
“Lean? No. How about Deanly? Lilean? Dily?... Delily sounds cute until you realize it sounds like he deflowered—” Seb stopped himself when he saw the way Dean's eyes narrowed.
“Don’t stop there. You’re on a roll. Finish the sentence,” Dean challenged, crossing his arms and cocking his head to one side.
Seb snapped his fingers and pointed at Dean. “You know what? I don’t think I will. I choose life.”
“Hm.” Dean dragged his eyes from Seb to look across the room, watching no one in particular as he rolled out his shoulder — the one above the bruising. He winced again with the movement.
“I’m getting you some painkillers,” I said with a little more finality than I intended. Maybe to make sure he knew I wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I left the locker area before he could reject the offer, and headed for the medical cabinet at the bottom of the stairs. Once I had unlocked the doors, I grabbed the little orange pill bottle with its white cap and closed the doors again.
I made sure it was locked and turned around but slammed right into one of the fighters walking past. The bottle was knocked from my hand as I righted myself. Every inch of me ached after walking into the wall of muscle.
Apologizing profusely, I brushed my hair from my face and went to collect the bottle from the ground but he swooped in before I got the chance. It wasn’t until we straightened that I got a proper look at his face; his poxy skin.
“Hello, lass,” Murphy smirked with that Irish accent. Already dressed in his fighting gear.
A shiver ran down my spine, but I wouldn’t let him get to me. I snatched the painkillers back and breezed past him, ignoring his taunting chuckle while I kept my chin high.
Dean saw the interaction and was already making his move to meet me halfway. Or completely overtake me to confront Murphy, but I shook my head at him.
“It’s fine,” I said calmly, planting a hand on his bare chest to back him towards the lockers again. “He didn’t do anything. Now open your hand.”
Dean dropped his gaze from Murphy to me, and his eyes quickly lost that icy flare as he lifted his palm.
I dropped two painkillers into it, offering him a faint smile. “Hopefully these help a little."
Without water, Dean tossed the pills back while I screwed the green cap back onto the bottle. And froze as I looked at the bottle again.
A green cap instead of white.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, looking back up at Dean as he frowned.
Seb voiced his confusion with a cautious, “What?”
“They weren’t painkillers,” I breathed.
Simultaneously, we turned to where I had bumped into Murphy. He hadn’t moved from the spot, still smirking wickedly as he watched us. A bottle with a white cap in his hand.
“Two roofies. Very impressive,” he taunted. “Though I don’t think you’re going to have a lot of luck fighting when you can barely walk.”
Dean gently grabbed my shoulders to move around me, but Seb took hold of his arm.
“You piece of shit,” Dean growled at Murphy.
