Just then, I hear footsteps thumping down the corridor and mom’s loud voice echoing.
“How can you not have ANY natural juice selections in your cafeteria? What are people supposed to drink? Soda? For heaven’s sake, this is a hospital! You should have healthier options!”
I dig my fingers into my thin hospital gown.
If mom sees Zane, all hell will break loose and there won’t be a thing I can do to stop it.
Jinx: Dropping bombs and running away isn’t befitting of a Snare Queen, Miss Jamieson. Trade a secret for a secret? Tell me who you’re aiming your gun at and I just might grant you an extra bullet.
Chapter Three
GREY
My eyes flash up to Zane’s and alarm bells start clanging when he looks back at me with mischief.
“Get down,” I hiss, gesturing for him to drop low.
He tilts his head, smirking. “What’ll you give me if I do?”
“Honestly,” mom’s voice gets closer, “I wasn’t going to complain. I’m really not the type who asks to speak to the manager, but my daughter is having such a hard time. She shouldn’t be worrying about simple things like healthy drinks.”
The door slides open.
Panicked, I launch out of bed, fling myself at Zane and tackle him to the ground. He drops with anoof.
Mom’s heels tick against the floor. “Grace? Gracie?”
I hustle to my feet, my curly bun sloshing lopsidedly to the left. “Mom, you’re back.”
She’s also not alone. The nurse on shift is with her, and they’re both staring at me like I belong in a straitjacket.
“What were you doing down there?” Mom asks, stepping closer.
“Nothing,” I blurt, stopping her.
She startles. “Why are you yelling?”
“Oh, I…” I notice Zane starting to sit up and slam my bare foot against his chest. He thumps back to the ground. “I was getting tired of being in bed.” Moving my arms back and forth as if exercising, I add with a nervous laugh. “I wanted to move a bit.”
“Lie down. The doctor said you shouldn’t be doing anything too strenuous yet.”
“Standing isn’t strenuous, mom.”
“You never know with a head wound. Better to be safe than sorry.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
Mom makes a shooing gesture.
I glance sternly at Zane who manages to look like a male supermodel while sprawled on the floor with his hair flouncing around him and his eyes bright. Widening my eyes a bit, I dart my gaze under the bed.
He arches a browwhat will you give me?
I bite my lip in frustration.
“Grace?” Mom edges closer. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing. I’m just… trying to get my foot in my slippers.” I scrub my foot over Zane’s chest and he wraps long, wicked fingers around my heel. The warmth of his hand makes my pulse spike and reminds me of just how traitorous my body is when it comes to him.