Chapter 2 #2
I look at Finn and take him in from head to toe. Even though he’s a mess, he’s just as hot as the other two. “I don’t want you to kiss them, though. You’re just for me.”
He smiles a sad smile, and something in my chest aches.
Why is he sad?
Dane walks over to me, shaking his head with a laugh, before brushing his palm lightly over my messy hair. “You’re gonna hate yourself when you’re off the meds, Speedbump.”
Maybe.
The nurse chuckles as she steps up and adjusts the IV. “All right. We’ll tone it down a little before you start making real trouble.”
I pout at her, even as the fog begins to clear just a little, and she leaves, promising to grab the doctor.
Dane stays by my side and strokes my hair again, gentler now. “How are you feeling, Alaina?”
I press a finger of my good hand to my lips and whisper, “Shh. They don’t know.”
Luc snorts from where he and Mason are still standing close together, practically shoulder to shoulder. I look over, narrowing my eyes, because dammit, Mason looks adorable in Luc’s hoodie with his arms crossed.
“Seriously,” I say, pointing between them. “You guys should kiss.”
They don’t.
“Fine,” I sigh dramatically. “Then somebody kiss me because there is tension in this room, and I need a kiss to happen.”
Dane huffs a laugh, stepping back as Luc raises an eyebrow, strolls over to the other side of my bed, and leans in to press a quick, teasing kiss to my lips.
I whine. “That’s it?”
“You’ll get more when you explain yourself,” he says with a low chuckle, brushing a lock of hair from my forehead. He picks up my left arm gingerly, looking down at the fingers in the cast, then back up at my face, softer now. “How are you feeling?”
He’s so close, too close, and somewhere in my woozy brain, I remember that he can’t know that I have tits, and that I shouldn’t sound like this.
Shit.
I pull the blanket up over my chest with my good hand and deepen my voice, but it comes out way too deep. “I’m fine.”
Mason huffs from the doorway. “You can drop the shit, Alaina.”
I freeze.
They know?
Something in me twists, panic maybe or the edges of it? I’m too foggy to really sort it out, but it sits there under my ribs like a warning.
I look up at Luc, and he meets my eyes, all calm and unbothered, and then he leans in to kiss my temple, whispering, “We’re gonna have words about this, ma Petite.”
Some of that panic eases because he’s still calling me that, but then it hits again, because they know my secret.
Oh God.
My eyes flick to Mason, only to find him glaring at me. Not with that playful little scowl he throws at me when he thinks I’m being weird. This one is sharp, cold, the one he gives the rest of the world, but now it’s aimed at me.
“Why did you lie to me?”
I flinch at the tone, that hurt tone, wrapped in anger, and my mouth opens before I can think. “I didn’t lie to you, I—”
“You did!” he cuts me off, stepping forward. “You did. You made me trust you. You were there, you said you were my friend, and I let you in. I told you shit I’ve never told anyone, and the whole time, you were lying about who you were.”
“Mason,” I whisper, and my voice cracks. “I’m sorry.”
I am. God, I am.
I know this is wrong, and I messed up. I can feel it in every part of my body now that the fog is starting to lift, even though everything still feels slow and sticky, like I’m wading through molasses.
“No,” he snaps. “You’re a fucking liar.”
“Enough.” Luc is suddenly on his feet, stepping between us like a shield. “Stop yelling at her like that. She’s on meds, she’s not thinking right. You need to yell, Payne? Yell at me.”
“Oh yeah?” Mason growls. “How about you use your fucking brain for once, Delacroix?”
Luc recoils slightly, offended and visibly pissed.
“She lied to us for weeks,” Mason goes on. “She was there, every day, acting like she was real and cute and my friend, and all she did was lie.”
“She didn’t lie to us, idiot,” Luc fires back.
“She lied to the UCI, and she will tell us why that is.” He glances over his shoulder at me, sharp and pointed, like you better, before turning back to Mason.
“But she was real with me. Yeah, maybe she didn’t tell us she doesn’t have a dick and gave me a full-blown sexuality crisis—”
Dane snorts beside me.
Luc doesn’t let up. “We’re gonna talk this shit out. We can talk it out, but don’t pretend she was fake.” He turns back to me, eyes locked on mine. “You were real to me, right, Petite?”
I nod, fast, and the tears come with it, burning in my eyes. “Yes.”
He believes me. Even though everything else is a mess, he still believes that. But the medication is wearing off more by the second, and the fog is thinning, while the pressure is building. I can see the disaster for what it is now.
Mason’s face, the betrayal in it.
I look at him, my voice shaking. “He’s right, I was always real to you too. The only thing I lied about was—”
“What?” Mason snaps. “Your name? Your age? Your gender? Your backstory? Probably that you were on my side too. What was the agenda here, huh? Why’d you worm your way in? To make me feel something only to fuck me over? You’re just as bad as her.”
My blood freezes in my veins, and I sit up straighter, even though my head is starting to throb.