Page 24 of A Little Jaded
“Just…get some sleep.” He climbs into Griffin’s bed, turns on his side, and gives me his back while my feet stay planted on the ground. I can’t help it. I’m speechless. And confused.
What the hell?
“‘Night, Raine,” Everett mumbles.
It’s a hint. A nudge. A gentle push telling me I should get moving and go to bed. Then again, he’s right. I should. I’m absolutely exhausted. So much so, I may or may not be hallucinating since the last five minutes make almost zero sense, and so does Everett’s surliness.
Flicking the light off, I head to his bed and slip beneath the crisp sheets. It smells like detergent. I don’t know why I’m disappointed, but a small part of me is. I’m not sure what else I expected.
His cologne. That’s what I was expecting.
Biting back my groan, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. “Goodnight, Everett.”
CHAPTER TEN
RAINE
With a yawn, I cover my mouth and roll onto my side. It’s morning. It has to be. Light filters in around the blinds while voices seep beneath the closed bedroom door. As my brain tries to register where I am and what I’m doing here, I rub at the corner of my eye, then sit up, letting the wrinkled sheets fall to my lap. Memories of last night flood my senses as I smack my parched lips together, wincing in discomfort.
Right. The party. The fight. The drive home. The hit to the face. The shower.
I blink the sleep from my eyes and look around the room. Everett’s bed is empty. Er, Griffin’s bed? It doesn’t matter. He’s gone. Something squeezes in my stomach, and I slip out of the covers, finding the ointment from last night resting on the nightstand along with a bright orange sticky note.
Put this on your lip. It’ll help it heal so it doesn’t split again. I went to the gym with the guys. Be back soon. Don’t leave. - Everett
He left me a note?
He left me a note.
My fingers trace his blocky, masculine handwritingbefore I set the Post-It back on the nightstand and apply the ointment to my lip. It doesn’t sting as much this time, but my nose still wrinkles when I run my finger along the damage, realizing how swollen I am. Yeah. This isn’t going away any time soon.
Great.
The ground is cold against my bare feet as I pad toward the dresser closest to the window, finding my clothes folded neatly on top of the wood surface. Everett must’ve done it. Searching the pocket of my jeans, I open my phone, and my heart lodges itself in my throat.
One hundred and two missed calls. Seventy-one voicemails. Ninety-seven texts. Pretty sure Drake broke his all-time record.
Hands shaking, I set my phone back on my clothes, refusing to read any of his messages. He must be furious.
Not your problem, Raine.
With a deep breath, I force myself to keep the phone where it is, turn around, and tiptoe toward the hallway. The voices are a little louder now, and when I round the corner to the kitchen, my heels dig into the ground.
“Oh. Hi,” a girl greets me. Her hair is long and dark, and even though her eyes are a few shades grayer than Everett’s baby blues, I have no doubt she’s Everett’s sister. Hislittlesister, if I had to guess. The girl’s short and curvy and beautiful. She strides toward me and offers her hand. “I’m Finley. Nice to meet you.”
Accepting her hand, I shake it once. “Raine. Hi.”
“Hi,” she repeats. “This is Dylan.” She motions to a gorgeous blonde with black-framed glasses and a bowl of Reese's Puffs cereal at the kitchen table, then points to the strawberry-blonde bombshell beside her. “And this is Ophelia.”
“Or Lia,” Ophelia adds. “Nice to meet you.”
I give her a small wave. “You, too.”
“Do you want any coffee?” she asks.
“Uh…”
“Take a seat, I’ll grab you some,” Finley interjects. “Do you like sugar or cream?”