32. Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Jake
“I’m fine.” Jake paced the room, wearing nothing but underwear since, if he was going to be relegated to being alone one way or another, he may as well be comfortable. “Come on, I can’t stay locked up in this hotel room forever.”
“We’re not taking any extra chances,” said Eliza on the other end of the line. “They said twenty-four hours of rest. We’re being safe and going forty-eight. Any decisions that need to be made about the show moving forward can wait a little bit while you’re working on your health.”
She doesn’t believe that. Even over the phone, her tension was clear as a spring day. But Jake wasn’t going to touch that. Not his business if she wasn’t going to clear him to return to work. For all intents and purposes, he wasn’t on the show at the moment.
“I’ll be careful if I can come back.”
“Rest. No arguing anymore.” He heard a muffled voice come over the line, then Eliza sighed. “I have to go have a talk with Linda. Stay at the hotel. Sleep. Relax. Do what the doctors said.”
She hung up and Jake tossed his phone into the middle of the bed, but kept on pacing. He felt fine, now. Not even a headache. After he was annoying enough, he got Robinson to stop playing nursemaid and go back to his own hotel room, since he was totally good to go. He didn’t need to be woken up every few hours and asked what his name was and who was currently the president.
His brain was working too well, if anything. Any time he had nothing to focus on, the memory of Quinn’s horrified face surfaced, followed by him driving away to God knew where and being apparently unreachable. The only message anyone seemed to have gotten from him were those two quick texts he’d sent to Jake, telling him to go to the doctor. And Mason had apparently waited for him at his apartment to fill him in on the situation. But that was it, as far as Jake knew.
So all he could do was think about how badly and completely he’d fucked everything up. He should never have trusted Evander. He shouldn’t have tried to confront Ozzy out in the open like that. He absolutely should have give more weight and thought to Quinn’s feelings about the whole thing.
The only thing he could say he didn’t regret in the least was the time he spent with Quinn. He would change how he handled the entire situation, but he wouldn’t give up their time for anything.
A knock at the door. Someone else making sure he wasn’t fainting or throwing up or whatever the hell else they were supposed to watch for if his concussion turned worse. He strode over and sighed. “I’m okay!”
He opened the door, saw the face staring in at him, then closed it right away. “Not dealing with you, Ozzy. I’m resting.”
Ozzy shouted back loudly enough to be heard very clearly through the door, which probably meant very clearly through the door of every other room in the hallway. “You’re not going to rest much if I stand out here pounding all day. But your call.”
Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang—
Jake flung the door open. “Get the fuck in here.”
Ozzy walked over the threshold. “I knew you’d see reason. I had hoped you might be wearing pants, but beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.”
“I’m not taking fashion requests from you. Or any requests from you.” He flopped onto the bed next to his phone, then finally took the time to really look Ozzy over. He had some scrapes on his face, but nothing bad. Although his hair was greasy and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a minute.
He sat in the little spinny office chair and turned it around so he was facing Jake. “How are you?”
“Annoyed. Bored. Wouldn’t mind slapping you again.” Jake was ready to take his portion of the blame for what happened with Quinn, but that didn’t take away what Ozzy had done in the whole mess. “In case that changes how much you want to stick around.”
Ozzy rolled his eyes and did a full rotation in the chair. “I’m sorry, okay? That’s what I came here to say, so let’s just get it out there.”
“Well, as long as you’re super sincere about it.”
Ozzy rolled the chair over to the foot of the bed. “Dude, I don’t know what you want me to say, here. I didn’t know what all was going on with you and Quinn. I’m pretty sure I still don’t.”
“Exactly. You didn’t know what was going on, but you have eyes and fucking ears. Last I checked, they work, right? Wasn’t it clear that neither of us were cool with how you were acting?”
He groaned. “No. It wasn’t obvious to me, all right? Do you think I would just keep pressing the issue if I knew it was going to be that bad?”
Jake sat up and shrugged. “Wouldn’t you? If you knew it would get a rise out of Quinn, wouldn’t you just keep going until you finally got what you wanted?”
“Of course not.” Ozzy squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. It took a few moments before he carried on, but he was calmer when he did. “All right, I don’t always stop poking fun when I should. I flirt with that line, and it burned me this time. It burned Quinn. I burned you. But it’s never something I mean to do. Except with Evander.”
“It’s not about what you mean to do, Ozzy. I don’t know how to make that clearer than when I was beating the crap out of you. Thought the message might have sunk in.”
He tossed his hands up. “I give up. Whatever. I’ll see you back on the job site or the next meeting or whatever the fuck.” He got up and stormed away, throwing the door open. Then he paused. “Take care of yourself and stop trying to wrangle your way back onto the job you idiot. You have a fucking concussion because you don’t even know how to walk without falling on your face. You don’t need to be back there if it’s going to make it worse.”
“If you knew how to tend to landscaping, I wouldn’t have tripped. Take your bedside manner somewhere else. I bet it’d be a big hit at the morgue.”
The door slammed and Jake turned over on the bed, burying his face in the pillows so the surrounding rooms wouldn’t hear him screaming. Ozzy could get bent six ways to Sunday.