Page 72 of To Love or to Lose
“You’re only making it worse.” He warns. “Go inside and keep your head forward for a bit while you pinch your nose.”
I look up to give him a threatening glare. “You did this to me,” I remind him.“If you broke my nose, you’re paying for my rhinoplasty.”
“C’mon Genevieve, I know you’re smarter than that,” He ridicules. “Rhinoplasties are most commonly used for cosmetic purposes, which is not your case. Worst-case scenario—you have a deviated septum and would need a septoplasty.”
“Thank you, doctor,” I spit balefully. I realize far too late that what was meant to be a sarcastic insult, could very well be taken as a compliment.
In all honesty, that would be the last job I would choose for Jameson. He lacks all the human compassion and empathy needed for such a job, but maybe that’s just my biased opinion.
Damn, my nose really hurts.
“Did you hear a pop?” He asks, and when I shake my head, he lets out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Now, go inside, the cold is only going to make the bleeding worse.” His advice feels sincere, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to take it.
“Are you forfeiting, Beaumont?” I throw my one last snowball. It misses by a longshot.
“No, I’m walking away peacefully so you don’t hurt yourself even more.” He opens the sliding glass door to his hotel room . “You’ll thank me later.”
“Never.” I roll my eyes, my lips lifting arrogantly when he walks inside.
I won.
He peeks his head back out. “Don’t sleep on your back, you’ll choke and suffocate on your own blood.”
“Aw, how sweet, you don’t want me dying in my sleep.” I press a satirical hand to my heart in fake admiration, making his eyes flash a look of sympathy.
“You’re right, I don’t.” He shuts his door, but not before saying a quick. “Night, Genevieve.”
I say nothing back. Instead, I look toward the city skyline one last time before returning to the warmth of my room, a large smiling gracing my bloody face.
I won.
“What the hell happened to your face?” Winnie asks when she enters the hotel room, seeing me take a handful of ice out of our ice bucket and placing it into a plastic baggie.
“Jameson.” Is the only thing I say.
“I’m going to get Logan to kill him!” She declares immediately, already heading back out the door.
“Wait—” I go to stop her, but it’s no use.
“What happened?” Logan asks from the hall. He must have been waiting for Winnie to get in before entering his own hotel room.
Winnie throws open the door, motioning toward me, “Your roommate happened!” She yells, heated.
I’ve never seen her this angry, and for a moment, it almost makes me happy that she’s willing to go to such lengths for me. Until I remember that what she’s angry about is all a misunderstanding.
Logan mutters something like ‘holy shit’ as he makes eye contact with me, stepping in the room. “Jameson did that to you?”
“Not intentionally.” I try to calm the situation.
“It looks like you got socked in the face!” Logan is as volatile as Winnie now. “How could that be an accident?”
He and Winnie break into hysterics, yelling back and forth about how they can’t believe Jameson would hit a woman, and how Logan needs to beat the shit out of him.
“It was a snowball!” I finally snap, slightly mortified at having to explain this situation. “We were on our balconies, and we got into an argument.”
Logan and Winnie look between one another, like they’re trying to determine how they should react.
“What?” Logan asks.
