“Do not try to take care of me when you’re bleeding all over the fucking floor.”
I yank my wrist from him and narrow my eyes.
“Give me the paper towels,” I hiss, and his face gets all weird, and then he’s grabbing me in a huge hug and squeezing me tight. The blazer falls to the floor, and I don’t even care about it. My fingers grab the back of Chas’ blazer and hold on for dear life.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, kissing the side of my head and rubbing his cheek against me. “I’m so sorry, naekkeo.”
“What happened?” Parrish asks, his voice cold and almost businesslike. I can’t decide if it’s because he’s angry with the girls still, pissed off on Chasm’s behalf, or jealous of the way we’re touching. Maybe all of those things? But when Chas and I pull back from each other, and I glance Parrish’s way, there’s a touch of sadness in his eyes when he looks at me.
“I got jumped in the hall,” Chas says as Maxx moves over to stand beside me. I glance his way, and then suddenly realize how naked and vulnerable I am all of a sudden. Even more so when he reaches out and gently sweeps some of my tangled hair back, his hand trembling like he wants to hold me but isn’t sure if he can, if he’d be allowed to.
After a moment, his face hardens and then he’s just pulling me in for a hug. His body is so big, it envelops mine completely, and I love that. I love how cared for and precious I feel when the three of them are around. That, and how incredibly powerful I feel at the same time. It’s like, both sides of me, both sets of wants and needs, are valid.
“Who?” Parrish demands, stepping forward and grabbing the paper towels from Chasm’s hand. He cleans his best friend’s face off while I cuddle up against Maxx.
“Gavin, Antonio. Shit, I don’t even know. Some of our friends, Parrish.” Chasm winces as Parrish finishes wiping him down and then applies shiny ointment to his lip. “I took off, but they cornered me in a utility closet.”
“And then he called me,” Maxx adds, letting me go just long enough to collect some gauze and ointment from the first aid kit. Parrish watches him do it, his hands curling into fists and then releasing with seemingly great effort. He wants to tend to me, but he’s allowing Maxx to do it instead. “Sit.”
“Mr. Sports Medicine,” I murmur as I hop up onto the sink, still naked, still trapped in a small bathroom with three boys—all three of whom I’ve slept with at this point. Maxx hooks a cocky smile, but it’s laced with rage and barely restrained violence. When he takes my hand and starts to bandage my cut, his fingers are surprisingly gentle. “You came for Chasm?”
The thought warms my heart; the bromance between these three is real.
“I only had a second to make a call,” Chas says, putting weight on his ankle and wincing slightly. “They got my phone away from me, but at least it went through.”
“What happened when you got here, X?” Parrish clarifies, taking some Whitehall Prep merch out of a bag and bringing it over to me. Our gazes meet, and some of the harshness in his softens.
“They took off,” Maxx explains, his voice light, almost too light.
“Because they’re scared shitless of you.” Chasm leans back against the wall and then curses as he notices a tear in his shirt. He adjusts his blazer to cover the damage and shakes his head. “The bastards left, but they had to know we wouldn’t let this go.”
“They knew I was coming back,” Parrish agrees, waiting for Maxx to finish cleaning and bandaging the cuts on my chest and neck before he helps me into the sports bra and pullover sweater. Where the Best Shine Bright is scrawled across the front in black cursive.
Right.
The best.
Shining bright.
Mm-hmm.
My breath hitches as Maxx spreads my legs carefully and focuses on the cut there like it’s the only thing in the world that exists, like he isn’t close to the apex of my thighs, like he can’t feel my heat. He finishes up and Parrish offers me a pair of joggers.
I slip into them before accepting some sneakers and socks. Everything Parrish purchased for me seems to be the right size which makes me smile. Well, okay, so the shoes are maybe a size too large but that’s better than them being too small. Maybe that was the point?
“They knew, and they didn’t care.” Chasm heaves a sigh. “The girls have been wild without you, but the guys? This is the first time I’ve had to deal with anything like this.”
“The girls who attacked me”—I feel suddenly choked up and it takes several deep breaths for me to calm my nerves—“they were scared of Parrish. I mean, there were twelve of them and they still took off when he showed up.” I think on that for a moment, trying to push the feelings of humiliation aside. As much as I despise Justin, I’m going to ask him about this, about using Milk Carton to search for any videos of photos of me … “Because Parrish is still a Vanguard,” I say carefully, “and Chasm’s dad just got into bed with Justin Prior.”
