Page 7 of Love Sick

My fingernails dig into my palms. The knot in my chest has my skin prickling, but my rising temper and the reminder of my last boyfriend has turned the butterflies to daggers. I step into the light, setting a hand on my cocked hip.

Julian’s dark gaze glints my way, catching on my face. He elbows Asher, who turns toward me, grin fading. Two other men stand with them. Other residents.

“What was that now?” I ask.

None of them speak. The fire crackles between us. Heat and smoke permeate the air with burned cedar.

“Who told you I screw people to get ahead in life?” I ask.

“Um—” Asher rubs his neck and glances at the other men. Does he think they’ll have some magical lifeline for him?Nuh-uhh, buddy. You’re screwed.“I think you misheard—”

I shake my head. A tear falls. “No, I think I heard quite clearly.”

None of them answer.

“It’s not true,” I say, swiping the tear away.

Julian turns away. The sharp edge of his jaw throws shadows over his throat. The others exchange glances, clearly perturbed by the irate female in their presence.

I stomp toward them, my heels clacking on the travertine pavers. “What exactly did you hear?”

Asher adopts an expression like someone asked him to inform his girlfriend he has an STD—one he didn’t get from her. “I don’t—know?”

The tallest of the four meets my eyes. I recognize him from his Instagram. Kai Campisi, fellow intern. “They said you got your spot by less than upstanding means.”

He’s an intern—hasn’t even started—and he already heard this about me?

My heart thuds as blood drains from my head, making me woozy. Four vaguely human figures waver in the heat above the fire, and the world fractures into starbursts as tears collect.

Years of similar incidents flicker through my mind. High schools boys snickering about giving them a striptease. College friends flippantly hinting I’d never need student loans. A bouncer at a club, upon checking my license, wondering whether I was the Sapphire Rose from PornHub.

Then med school. Oh, med school. AndMatt.

“I didn’t screw my way into this program.” I cringe at the waver in my voice, but I want these words spoken, even if they don’t believe them. “I have no idea who said that about me, or why, but I worked hard to be here. My GPA was perfect and my test scores were solid. I did everything I was supposed to do, and I earned my spot fairly.Even if my name is Sapphire Rose.”

Kai tilts his head, studying me with a small smile. “Get ’em, girl,” he murmurs.

Asher’s face pales. “Whoa. Chill out.”

“Chill out?” I stomp my foot. “Seriously?”

The man I assume is Deep Voice stares at the ground, buff arms crossed.

Julian stills, the firelight glittering in his eyes like the flames of hell. Mouth tight, bottom lip pulled between his teeth, he taps his finger against the refilled plastic cup in his hand. I fantasize briefly about yanking it from his grasp, sloshing it in his face. Red wine would drip over that cut jaw and soak into his gray button-down. Ruinhisclothes.

Would serve him right, since this is clearly why he walked away. He was kind and smiley, flirtatious even, then he heard my stripper name and made a snap judgment based on unfounded rumors.

What a dick.

I throw him a fiery glare. “I did nothing to you. You knownothingabout me, and you judged me based on a rumor? Jerk move.” Heart pounding, I turn on my heel and clack away, traveling around the back of the house so I won’t have to face the partygoers inside. My ruined heels puncture the lawn as I hurry for my car, tears flowing freely. Why didn’t I think to wear waterproof mascara?

I’m in the street beside my car when my name stops me cold. A glance over my shoulder shows Julian trotting toward me.

“Sapphire—”

“It’s Grace.” I swipe at my tears.

“Right. Shit.” He throws his plastic cup to the ground, spilling the liquid inside, and offers me the remaining cocktail napkin. “Look, I’m sorr—”

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