Chapter 15
Arax
Iwasted the morning, and a good part of the afternoon, dealing with the uneasiness that was gnawing at me.
I tried over and over to make sense of it but couldn’t come up with anything.
Was it the possibility of never seeing Drake again?
If I were honest with myself, that may have been part of it, but I wasn’t sure if it totally explained the reason for how I was feeling.
It was giving me a headache. I lay down, closing my eyes, and waited for Drake to come hang out on our final night together.
When he arrived, he didn’t have my dinner with him.
“What’s up?” I asked him. “No delivery tonight?”
He laughed. “Get dressed, come have dinner with me.”
“Really?” I asked excitedly, perking up at the idea of leaving my room and getting to act like a normal person instead of a recluse.
“You seem chipper,” he said. “I’m guessing the diagnosis was good?”
“It was, but I’m sure you already knew that, seeing as you’re being tasked with driving me home,” I teased. “But I’m also not drowsy for once. I finished my medication last night.”
I went into the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a tight, three-quarter-sleeve shirt. It was the first time in forever I had worn something other than sweatpants and T-shirts.
When I came out, Drake whistled. “Look at you wearing real clothes.”
I grinned.
He slowly lifted my arms, running his hands down my tattoos. Half sleeves covered my forearms. They had been hidden for the most part, underneath layers of dressing until this morning, when Dr. Distefano had removed the rest of my bandages.
“Pretty,” Drake said in admiration. “Any more?” His question was innocent, but his tone was not. I shook my head, and he took a step closer to me. “No? Or ‘no, Drake, I don’t want to show you’?”
“These are it, at the moment,” I replied coolly.
We stayed facing each other. He was still holding on to my arms, unconsciously skimming his thumbs back and forth on my skin.
The act was more than friendly, and had I felt anything by it, it would have made me uncomfortable.
However, I didn’t. It was nothing like when Konstantine had touched me.
Those few times, as fleeting as they had been, had filled me with such warmth, such comfort, there was no comparison.
“Rox?” Drake let go of me and took a step back. “You ready?”
“Almost.”
I rarely wore makeup, but even if I’d wanted to tonight, I didn’t have any.
I looked toward the vase of jasmine, which had been refilled while I had been at the hospital.
Today’s bouquet was the biggest one yet.
I picked up a small sprig and gently wove it through my hair, styling it over my shoulder in a side braid.
“Ready,” I said.
Drake’s eyes swept over me. “I like that. It’s ethereal.”
“You’re just full of compliments, aren’t you?” I replied.
He winked and ushered me out the door.
We went down in the elevator and he led us to a large patio, where dinner was being served alfresco.
A table for two had been set up, and Drake pulled out my chair for me.
We were alone, and as had always been the case, the weather was perfectly mild.
The patio was dark, backlit by the light coming from within the castle.
Having only a limited view from my bedroom, I got up and walked to the edge to get a better look.
It was twilight, and the scenery was bathed in a wash of blue.
The mountains towered above in the distance, their velvety black outlines visible in the diminishing color of the night sky.
Drake joined me and leaned against the railing, his body turned toward me.
It was so quiet, it seemed like we were the only two people around for miles.
“Yo, Drake!” a voice yelled, breaking up the stillness.
I turned toward the sound and thought I heard Drake let out a frustrated groan.
Cyrus came strutting toward us and did a double-take when he saw me.
“Who let you out?” he asked, bellowing with laughter.
“You can blame Drake for that,” I replied, rolling my eyes. It was an involuntary response every time I saw him. “It’s been a while, Cyrus.”
“You’ve recovered, I see,” he said, looking me up and down. “Did our accommodations exceed your expectations?” he asked sarcastically.
“Very much so,” I answered sincerely, which disarmed him.
He quieted down, but it only lasted a moment.
“What are you two doi—” His eyes fell on the table, and I saw what he saw: two place settings, candles, wine, and another vase of jasmine.
Then it hit me, this was supposed to have been a date.
How had I missed the signs? Cyrus must have been thinking the same thing because when I glanced up, he was giving Drake a most peculiar look.
The three of us descended into such a tense silence that I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the patio doors open.
It was my turn to groan, seeing Konstantine make his way toward us, the scowl from earlier ever present on his face.
Cyrus’s gaze darted back and forth between Drake and me, and his mouth formed into a sly grin. “Mind if we join you?” he asked, his obliviousness to the situation a blatant farce.
Drake shrugged. “Whatever. Come on, Rox.” He led me back to the table. “Have a seat. I’ll grab you a plate.”
“Oh ho, Rox? You all got nicknames for each other and everything now, huh?” Cyrus taunted, while grabbing two more place settings. “Anything else we should know about?”
No one said a word, and I put my head down, feeling embarrassed. I had no reason to be. Drake and I were completely platonic, but I knew why. I couldn’t look at Konstantine. The possibility that he could think I was in his home hooking up with his best friend was unsettling.
“Man, shut up, Cyrus,” Drake said angrily, noticing my reaction. “You talk too damn much.”
“Chill, man, it’s just a joke. Apparently, I hit a nerve,” Cyrus mumbled.
Konstantine suddenly cleared his throat and gave Cyrus a look. He shut up immediately.
“Here,” Drake said, setting down the plate he’d made for me. “It’s Mexican tonight, no corn for you.” He gave me his signature wink.
He knew I hated corn.
Cyrus snickered but said nothing else. I waited until the rest of them went and got their food. It was self-service. We all ate quietly, until Drake offered me some wine.
“Sure,” I said, holding out my glass.
He went to pour, but Konstantine stopped him and glanced at me. “Your medication,” he said.
I went to explain, but Drake beat me to it.
“No more pills, Stan. She was done with them yesterday.”
A beat passed between the two friends while they stared at each other. I wanted none of it.
“It’s okay, Drake. Konstantine is right. It’s probably too soon.”
Cyrus was sitting back, observing everything that transpired. “You know, guys, I think she can do some things for herself,” he said, addressing Drake and Konstantine, but then turning toward me, he said with an evil smirk, “Except maybe use a toilet.”
He was the actual worst. I wanted to punch him so bad, but I knew I had to tread lightly.
“Cyrus, I’m begging you. If you haven’t already told the story, please wait until after I leave tomorrow, because at least then I’ll never have to see you guys again.”
Konstantine abruptly pushed his chair back, hard. The scraping of its legs against the ground startled even Drake and Cyrus.
“I’m turning in,” he said roughly. “You should too, Cyrus. We have training first thing.”
Then without even acknowledging Drake or me, he got up and left the table, leaving the three of us in awkward silence.
Cyrus wolfed down his food and left shortly after Konstantine.
Drake and I were finally alone, but there was no salvaging it.
The evening was ruined. We didn’t say much to each other at the table, and even lesser still when he dropped me off at my door.
Any hope of a delightful end to my stay had been thoroughly obliterated.