Unknown:You want me to come get you?
No. I definitely did not want that. Standing up from the couch, I hesitated. Should I change? Should I at least brush my hair? Should I actually go? I had no doubt that he would come to me, and who was to say he would be alone? He could bring Ash, or worse . . . Gray.
Mind made up, I left my apartment, leaving my bag behind me and tucking the key into my shorts as I walked with no hurry to the other side of campus. I kept to the back routes. It was still mid-afternoon, so most students were on the main campus, meaning few people were hanging about their rooms or the grounds.
When the huge mansion came into view, my feet dragged even more. The door to the house was open, and my heart told me that this was a bad thing for me. At the entrance, I hesitated.I wasn’t going to walk right in. Raising my hand, I knocked on the door.
“We don’t get visitors.” Jamie Woods, the defensive end for the Saints, was looking at me from a doorway. With the smells coming out of it, I would hazard a guess that it was the kitchen.
“Um, I was invited.” I chewed my bottom lip as I shuffled my feet.
“Ash?” Jamie looked me over with interest. “You look his type.”
“Is he here?” I wasn’t about to be specific about which Devil wanted to speak to me. I had heard that Gray had recently punched Jamie after training, and the students who went to watch the training sessions said that Ash tackled Jamie badly during the practice session, too. I noted the fading to his skin, which showed where he had recently had a black eye and bruised cheek. Seemed like Jamie had met the wrath of the Devils and not fared well.
“They live on the top floor.” His head jerked to the stairs, and he went back into the kitchen.
Again, I hesitated, but I was worried another one of the football team would come home or appear out of one of the many doors and ask me more questions. With my nerves already stretched thin, I started to climb the stairs. He was waiting on the second level, and I knew with one look that he had been listening to me downstairs.
“Remember the way?” His low drawl was enough to make the butterflies in my stomach swoop.
Sometimes silence was the answer, and I chose to say nothing as I followed him up the stairs. To be truthful, had he asked me, I really didn’t know the way. I had a hazy memory of cleaning up in his room and then getting the hell out of there as quickly as my hungover body allowed me. When Jett pushedopen the door to his bedroom, I followed him inside before I stopped, keeping close to the door. Just in case.
He turned and appraised me coldly. I didn’t note the decor or the furnishings. I kept my eyes on him, so when a pair of arms picked me off my feet and carried me further into the room, my scream pierced the air as the door banged firmly closed behind me.
When I was set on my feet, I whirled and looked at Gray, who took a step toward me, and I immediately stepped back. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked him as my shaky voice gave away how much he unnerved me.
“Bitches that fuck my brother when he’s not aware of what he’s doing is what’s wrong with me.”
I looked between the two of them. They looked so much more like twins when they were angry. Their jaws were set the same, the scowls were similar, and the dislike shone fiercely in the same pair of eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“Sure you do.” Gray walked past me, his shoulder bump almost knocking me off my feet.
“No, I don’t.” I should have taken my backpack; I could have used something to throw. As it was, all I had was my wit, my sandals, and my self-defense classes. Maybe I wasn’t as fresh out of luck as I first thought. I had no qualms about smacking one of these assholes if I had to; the dean would have to understand.
“You recognize the room?” Jett asked me. He hadn’t moved from his spot, and his almost casual stance was making me more nervous than Gray’s barely restrained anger.
“Um . . .” Looking around, I examined it. Did I? Were the walls lighter than I remembered? I had no idea. “Look, I told you earlier, I was drunk. I don’t remember much.”
“Convenient.” Gray snorted as he sat down on a chair beside the door. “You got amnesia?”
“No,” I snapped at him. He was quite possibly worse than Jett. “It’s called a hangover. I was drunk, I was doing double shots at beer pong, and I was very, very,verydrunk. I have no recollection of this room or anything else.” This wasn’t true, but I wasn’t telling these pricks that I was having vivid dreams of Jett and me in compromising positions.
“Your lies stop now,” Jett said to me as he walked closer to me. He was so close I had to turn my head away, or my face would be pressed into his chest. “Now, tell me why you drugged me.”
My head snapped back to look up at him in bewilderment. “What?” I met his hard stare. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Chapter 23: Jett
I looked down at her, and the confusion was clear in her eyes. Green eyes, the color of the grass after a hard game, I noted. She glanced over at Gray, and I saw her fear of him, and I wanted to tell her that he was the least of her problems.
I cupped her chin, turning her attention from Gray back to me, her eyes wide as she stared up at me. She looked like she was caught in the headlights, but I was done being fooled by this girl. “Another thing you’re conveniently forgetting?”
“I don’t . . .” She shook her head from side to side as she tried to release my grip from her chin. “I don’t do drugs.”
“Neither do I,” I bit out as I brought my face closer to hers. “But there’s fuck all I can do when some little bitch spikes my drink.”
Ava’s eyes widened fractionally more, and then they narrowed as her hands came up and pushed at my chest. “Get off of me. You need my permission to touch me, and your touch is not welcome.”
