Page 57 of Trick or Treat Nurse at My Feet
"Gross," Sylas wrinkles his nose. "But also kind of cool."
"It is cool," I agree. "We use this special wax to create different types of wounds. Some of them look incredibly realistic."
"Perfect for Halloween," Sylas notes. "Next year, you could make a fortune."
We reach the Health Sciences building, and Sylas inspects the lobby before declaring it "stalker-free."
"Text me when you're done," he says. "I'll come get you."
"Yes, Mom." The words come out dry, but my hand squeezes his arm in thanks.
When I arrive, the nursing lab is empty, which isn't unusual for a Friday afternoon. Most students are already starting their weekends. I pull out my keys and unlock the supply cabinet, mentally running through everything I need to set up.
I'm midway through arranging simulation supplies at the first station when the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
"You're not supposed to be in here, Ryan," I say without turning around, somehow knowing it's him even before I look.
"Since when do you care about rules?" His voice is closer than I expected. "You never minded when I broke them to see you before."
Taking a deep breath, I turn, keeping the supply cart between us. "What do you want?"
"You know what I want." His eyes are hard, nothing like the Ryan I thought I knew. "We need to talk properly. Without your oversized bodyguard interrupting."
"There's nothing to talk about." I'm proud of how steady my voice sounds, even as my heart hammers. "We're done. I've moved on."
His laugh is bitter. "To a straight frat boy? Good luck with that."
The mention of Tyler sends a chill down my spine. "What do you know about that?"
"Everyone knows," Ryan says, his tone dismissive. "The VP of Delta Phi suddenly playing for the other team? It's all over campus."
I didn't realize people were talking about us. The thought makes me both nervous and strangely pleased. Tyler isn't hiding anything.
"It's not really your business either way," I say, trying to keep my voice level.
"It is when you're making a fool of yourself." Ryan takes a step closer, and I tense. "He's using you, Ethan. Guys like that always do."
"You don't know anything about him."
"I know his type. He's experimenting, and you're the convenient test subject." Ryan's expression turns almost pitying. "I'm trying to save you from getting hurt."
The audacity of that statement makes me laugh. "Save me? You're the one who hurt me, Ryan. You cheated on me. You treated me like your dirty secret. And now you can't stand that. I found someone who respects me enough to be seen with me in public."
Ryan's face darkens. "Is that what you think? That I was ashamed of you?"
"What else should I think?" I ask, genuine anger rising now. "You never introduced me to your friends. We never went anywhere together off campus. You always had some excuse why we couldn't be a real couple."
"I was protecting you!" Ryan insists, his voice rising. "I was trying to keep our private life private."
"Bullshit," I say flatly. "You were protecting yourself. And that's fine, coming out is your own decision. But you don't get to string me along while you figure it out."
Moving to step around the cart, I'm suddenly tired of this conversation. "Now, please leave. I have work to do."
Ryan blocks my path. "We're not done."
"Yes, we are." Standing my ground, I refuse to step back.
Ryan steps closer, lowering his voice. "What we had was special, Ethan. This thing with Landis is not going to last. When he's done experimenting, he'll go back to girls, and where will that leave you?"
