Page 38 of Fractured Heart

JJ pales. “I fell on you last night. Did I hurt you?”

Chapter 20

“I’m fine,” I tell JJ, but he doesn’t seem to hear me.

“Fuck! I didn’t know you were on the couch. Shit!” He pulls away from me, a look of genuine horror on his face.

“You didn’t hurt me, JJ!”

“You screamed.” He shakes his head and his eyes widen. “I fell on you and you screamed.”

“She was just scared,” Tate says. Then he turns to me, his eyes widening too. “He didn’t hurt you, did he Roonie? How are your ribs? Are you in pain?”

“Her ribs?” JJ pales further.

“I’m fine! I just slipped in the forest.” I try to keep my tone casual like it’s no big deal. “Tate took me to see a doctor and I have painkillers.”

“Did you take them this morning?” Tate asks.

I shake my head and he rushes to grab them for me. I try to protest and tell him I can do it. Tate doesn’t listen. He grabs me a bottle of water from the fridge and even goes so far as to open it. He waits until I’ve swallowed both pills and then guides me to the kitchen counter.

“Sit. I’ll grab you something to eat. You shouldn’t have those on an empty stomach.”

“I can do it…” I try to protest, but Tate guides me to the bar stool and gives me a stern look. I sit down.

“I’ll make breakfast,” JJ says. “You’ll be late for class, Tate, and it’s the least I can do.”

“You don’t have to do that!” I cry. “You guys are letting me stay here. I should be the one making breakfast.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” JJ and Tate say at the same time.

“JJ’s a great cook,” Tate adds. “Wait till you try one of his omelets.”

I want to argue, but the way JJ grins at the mention of his cooking makes me stop. He grabs the mug from the coffeemaker and slides it across the counter. “Here, Roonie. Your coffee’s ready.”

I shake my head. “Tate made that for Charles.”

“What did Tate make for me?” Charles crosses the living room to join us.

“Coffee,” Tate says, then bursts out laughing at Charles’s look of disgust.

The beast is dressed all in black again this morning: a stylish black dress shirt, a black silk tie, black slacks, and shining black dress shoes. His hair is neatly combed and his beard is meticulously styled; he looks like he’s ready for a formal event, or maybe a funeral. He definitely doesn’t look like he’s going to class with the adorably rumpled, sweatpants and t-shirt Tate.

“Roonie,” Charles greets me. He stares at me intently for a few seconds, then he seems to forget all about me as he turns to Tate. “Let’s go. I want to stop at Nigel’s on the way.”

Tate rolls his eyes. “We don’t need to detour all the way to Nigel’s, Charles. There is a coffee shop literally right outside the studio.”

Charles holds up a dismissive hand. “They won’t steep my tea at precisely two hundred and ten degrees.”

Sighing, Tate follows Charles to the door. “Have a good day, Roo Roo.” He smiles at me.

“Oh, um, you too,” I blush and Tate grins. Charles doesn’t say anything, not even a goodbye.

“Help yourself to anything in the fridge,” Tate adds. “Oh, and here’s my key card.” He reaches into his pocket and tosses it onto the coffee table. “We’ve got rehearsal at two. I’ll text you with the details.”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“What?” Tate’s eyes widen. Charles stares at me intently, silently judging me.