Page 53 of Well That Happened

“Connor,” he says. “I’m good, it’s just—”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

I peel back the towel. Blood trickles, dark and fresh, but the cut is clean—deep, but not jagged. “You’re gonna need a couple stitches,” I say, already grabbing clean paper towels and gloves from under the sink. “Did you hit your head? Any dizziness?”

“No. Just elbowed in the face.”

I nod. “Pressure here,” I direct, pointing to the spot. He presses down, wincing.

Hunter’s watching. Still tense. “You sure he’s okay?”

“I’ve seen worse during morning shift at the hospital,” I reply, not looking up. “We’ll butterfly it and tape it for now. I’ll show you how.”

Hunter finally breathes. “Thanks.”

“Keep the towel on him. I’ll grab supplies from upstairs.”

He nods. “I’ll hold the towel. Don’t need another rookie passing out.”

I leave the kitchen, pushing through the crowd like a girl on a mission.

Because I am.

And for the first time all night, my hands aren’t shaking.

* * *

After the rookie is sorted, I grab a cup from the drinks table, just to have something to hold.

I catch Grayson’s eyes from the other side of the room. He makes his way over, stopping right in front of me.

“You good?”

I force a smile. “Yeah. Great.”

His gaze flicks over me—slow, unreadable. “You look nice.”

I blink. “Thanks.”

Then, softer. “Different.”

My heart stutters.

“What do you mean?”

Grayson tilts his head. “I think you know.”

And just like that, I’m flustered all over again.

Because how does he know about me and Caleb?

Because I can’t seem to want one thing at a time.

Because I’m an actual hot mess express.

A guy approaches and starts talking hockey with Grayson, and I take the opportunity to slip away. I’m halfway through my second drink and trying not to spiral.

I’m also pretending not to be hyperaware of every glance from Caleb… Grayson… and Hunter.

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