Page 74 of Foul Line

I see the whole scene again. Me, jumping up for the basket. Lake bringing his hand down at the odd angle. I feel my wrist and the snapping again, but it’s as if I’m an outside observer this time around.

I look around the small hospital room. None of the guys are looking at me. Their gazes are shifted away, shame heavy in their eyes. For the first time, I notice Alec is there. My heartrate speeds up. “You’re here,” I say. “Did your mom drive you?”

He turns his full attention toward me. Veins pop out of his arms, his face is sharp, angular, not bothering to hide his anger. When he doesn’t say anything, I reach out for him. Immediately, he pushes past Ryan and moves toward me. He doesn’t stop there, he stoops down, his fingers moving behind my head until he brings my face to his.

His heated lips envelop mine. The physical distance between us lately hasn’t diminished our feelings for one another. He seals them into one hot kiss, delivering them to me with a passion that makes a noise catch in my throat.

“Alec,” a voice says.

He pulls away, his gaze saying everything his mouth can’t. “I’m so fucking sorry I left you.”

“I’m fine,” I tell him.

Realistically, I know that’s not true. I just think I’ve been telling everyone that so much lately that I’ve started to believe it myself.

I’m not fucking fine. My wrist is fucked up, and I have no idea what the outcome of that will be.

“It’s not your fucking fault. We were there.”

My eyes dart to Sloan. He’s biting down on his lower lip so hard I’m surprised he’s not drawing blood. On instinct, I try to reach out to him with my closest hand, but it’s my fucked-up hand. I hiss in a breath at the surge of pain.

Sloan looks at me like I’m killing him. He moves forward. I have enough time as he approaches to know he intends on kissing me, too. I let him take his time, his hazel eyes raking over me before he captures my lips in his. He kisses me tenderly, and I’m reminded of the boy who told me he’s never said sorry in his life until me. He’s saying it again with the caress of his lips against my own. I wait until he pulls away to tell him he doesn’t have to apologize.

“I’ll never not need to apologize,” he says, his voice full of sorrow.

Hayes leans over me, dropping a kiss to my forehead. My gaze flicks to his. That quiet beast of anger in him is sitting close to the surface. When I look down, I see his knuckles are split again. I reach out with my good hand and take one of his in mine, careful not to touch the bruised skin. “Lake?” I ask.

“Don’t say his fucking name.”

“Hayes,” Ryan snaps.

They exchange a look and Hayes backs down, not before I bring his hand to my lips and kiss his broken skin. I close my eyes as I do so, willing with everything in me that he doesn’t ever have to do that again. It’s not him.

“Your mom will be here soon,” Ryan says.

I’ve already spoken to her on the phone. I don’t know what my dad told her happened, but she was a wreck. “You guys probably shouldn’t be here when she comes. She doesn’t like you guys very much.”

Ryan nods quietly.

“You should drive my car back home. I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“If you want,” Ryan says.

“Just be good to her,” I smirk.

He doesn’t fall into an easy smile himself. He still looks like a cross between sad and pissed.

“Where’s Lake?” I ask.

All four of them at once look like they’re going to explode. “He’s none of your concern, Tessa,” Ryan says. “We’ll take care of him.”

I’ve waited ages to hear those words in some form or another. I would’ve even settled for an agreement to ignore one another, but it’s progressed far past that. Not even the strength of these pain meds can make what he did to me go away.

“I want him to suffer.”

Ryan peeks at Hayes’s fist.

“More,” I say.

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