Easier said than done.
Though, he had a point.
Why the fuck was I gettingsohung up about this?
It couldn’t just be an ego thing. I’d had my fair share of being knocked down a peg or two in my time and this was nothing in comparison to that.
Seeing Blake again had re-ignited the flame of betrayal. Like the wound had slowly been staring to heal and then was unceremoniously ripped right back open, leaving me bleeding all over the damn place yet again.
Get. Over. It.
Something cold shocked the back of my neck, heavy and slightly wet. Instantly, I brought my hand up to slap at it, coming into contact with something solid in the process, along with whatever it was that had been placed there.
“Relax,” a familiar voice said from above me.
My entire body froze in disbelief.
He moved it—an ice pack I was starting to realize—up toward my hairline, keeping it there with a firm hold. Relief rippled through me at the compress. My chin met with the table again, my attention pinned on the figure moving just out of my peripheral and then slowly shifting into it when he hopped up onto the table to sit on it next to me.
“Who gave you the booze?”
I rolled my eyes. Wasn’t even going to allow me to enjoy a second of this without some kind of interrogation. “Is that what you came back over here to bug me about?”
“Yeah. I want to know who I have to fire.” Blake’s tone was hard to read. If he was serious about that, then Idefinitelywasn’t going to be ratting anyone out no matter how many times he poked and prodded at me to do so.
The medical staff were good people and actually seemed like they gave a shit when I’d walked in there playing up my cat-with-a-limp-paw scheme and pretended like I needed the weekend to recuperate without anyone coming around to bug me as I slept off my cold.
“Technically…” I tilted my head to the side, letting my cheek rest against the table instead. “A bartender gave me the booze.”
I heard him mutter ‘bartender?’ under his breath while rearranging the ice pack, following the curve of my neck in order to rest it right at the junction right below my ear. I nearly groaned at the pressure, both pain and relief reverberating inside of my poor skull at the same time.
Fuck, the last time I had a hangover this bad was when I went out to celebrate my first million-dollar trade.
To this day, I still couldn’t stomach tequila.
“You snuck off the property?” He sounded bewildered. Which was so cute.
It wasn’t like he was running a fucking jail. Anyone could come and go if they really wanted to. The only reason I’d gone through such great lengths not to be found out was because I didn’t want any of the staff to have to call Blake up for approval. I was still salty about Friday. Getting him to give me the thumbs up or down was the last thing I wanted.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why not?” I challenged.
My skin buzzed being so close to him after being in withdrawal all weekend. I really wasn’t prepared to see him so soon after our run-in earlier and for him to seek me out himself... didn’t that mean something?
Get over it.
“No one called me. So, I’m guessing you didn’t tell anyone because you thought I’d say no or something.”
Partially true.
Blake wasn’t a warden. He wasn’t the type to hold anyone hostage on account of some power trip or ego boost he got from lording over a bunch of adventuring adults. If anything, he probably would’ve sent someone with me to make sure I got to and from camp okay and didn’t get lost on my journey coming back.
He was the caretaker type, after all.
So why didn’t I involve him?
The reason was simply this: I wasn’t ready to face him or hear his voice so soon after being rejected.
