I pressed my face into his starched shirt and swallowed my tears. “I’m fine.”
His hands spread over my back, molding me close. “I can’t leave you here alone.”
“I’m not alone, Beckett.” I breathed him in, filling my lungs with his spicy scent. “I have Aslan.”
Beckett leaned back to glance down at Aslan. “He’s not much of a guard dog, but he’s decent company. You’ll call if you need anything?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t forget to charge your phone.”
“Okay.”
Beckett curled a hand around my neck and pulled me in. His mouth closed over mine. There was a spark and then the kiss turned to a raging fire. We kissed for a long time, then Beckett pulled away, checked his watch, and kissed me again.
“Saturday,” he murmured, lips feather soft against mine.
I watched Beckett jog down the stairs and fold himself into his car. The little bubble of hope in my chest expanded until I had to open my mouth and sigh it out. A buzz of anticipation hung in the air, where I knew it would grow for six more days.
Until Saturday.
Chapter 18
I lingered in the shower, scrubbing my skin under the hot spray of water. I felt better after a good meal and lots of rest, but the remnants of a raging headache remained, and my throat was raw with unshed tears.
Beckett was right about me being drugged. I was kidding myself to think it was food poisoning. Someone had put something in my drink, but who? And why?
I stood under the scalding spray until the water became lukewarm and then finally turned cold. Shivering, I stepped out of the shower, careful not to disturb Aslan, who was snoozing on my bath mat.
I wrapped my body in one towel and my hair in another and went to check my phone. I’d missed over a dozen calls. Three of them were from Xan.
I called Gabi first, knowing she was probably sick with worry. I was sure Sloane had told her all about my misadventure.
Gabi answered on the first ring. “Spill it, Lacey,” she said. “I want details. Every juicy one.”
So much for worried out of her mind. Gabi sounded more curious than concerned.
“Where are you?” I could hear loud noises in the background, and her voice was muffled.
“I’m at Shane’s basketball game. Can you hear me?”
My headache flared to life as her voice rang over the line. “I can hear you.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“What do you know?”
“Everything. I saw the video.”
My blood ran cold. “What video?”
“Of Mr. Sexy punching out Man Bun and carrying you off.”
“How is there a video?”
“That guy who was hitting on Sloane sent it to her.”
I cringed at the thought of a video circulating.
