#Selfie (Hashtag Series Book 4) (6 page)

“I’m jumping in the shower before we gotta leave,” I called, not really talking to anyone specific.

“Wait,” Ivy yelled.

I turned back.

She lifted my shirt up and held it out. “I sort of ruined your shirt.”

I shrugged. “Toss it. It’s just a shirt.”

Not waiting for her to reply, I disappeared down the hall, away from everyone.

It was just a shirt.

Just one night.

Just one more thing for me to forget.

Ivy

Damn, baby
.

Two words.

Two words that were spoken millions of times during an average day of everyone’s average lives.

But he said them.

And when he said them, it was anything but average.

He spoke them so well they replayed in my brain over and over again, like some annoying song you hear on the radio and can’t get out of your head. Except this song wasn’t annoying.

Every time those words replayed, I recalled the way he looked when he said them, and a piece of me literally melted. If it didn’t stop soon, I was going to be nothing but a puddle.

No one had ever called me baby before. I mean, sure, I got the occasional, “Hey, baby,” pickup line that was sort of like hearing nails on a chalkboard.

Oh, but this was so different.

It was the way I sometimes heard Romeo talk to Rimmel when he thought no one else could hear. The way it seemed to rumble out of him with so much emotion, yet without seemingly any thought. He spoke like it was an endearment, like I meant something to him. Something other than the girl he insulted so often it could be considered a hobby.

Even so, this was Braeden. The king of “having fun,” the king of avoiding what he so
un
-charmingly referred to as the feels. He might have said it, but I knew I shouldn’t read too much into it. He acted like he hadn’t even heard himself speak. That was the worst part, that those two whispered words could mean so much to me and him not even realize he’d spoken.

And so I heard them on repeat over and over again, wanting it to stop, but also never wanting to forget.

I was totally screwed up.

I mean, seriously.

“How’s it feel?” Trent asked. His voice was so close I wondered how I’d forgotten he was standing there.

I glanced up and smiled. “A lot better. Thanks for helping me get it cleaned up.”

“Next time you want to get in a fight with a bottle cap… maybe just don’t.”

I laughed. “Yeah, maybe.”

His smile was lopsided, and the tooth to the left of his two front teeth was slightly crooked, giving him an ornery, rakish look. This week was the most time I’d ever spent with him, the most I’d ever really seen him. I mean, sure, I knew him. He hung out in Romeo’s crowd and was always with the Wolves. We went to the same parties, and I saw him around campus, but I hadn’t really ever bothered to get to know him. I’m glad I did, though, because Trent was a great guy.

He liked to laugh and seemed to have one of those easygoing, Namaste personalities. You know, the even-keel kind of vibe that never really went off balance.

He was the complete opposite of Braeden, who always seemed to be walking on a fine line between aggression and intensity.

I watched him as he gathered up the empty bandage wrappers and leaned away to toss them in the nearby trashcan before he screwed the cap back on the antibacterial cream. Trent was good-looking, like the kind of good-looking you did a double take to see.

I was beginning to think to be friends with Romeo, you had to be smoking hot.

He was a big guy, of course, being a college football player. Trent had a wide chest and shoulders that tapered down into a narrow waist and hips. His skin was golden from the week we spent here at the beach, and the warm color only drew more attention to how defined his body was. His hands were large, too, and his skin was warm like he’d been sitting in the sun. At least that’s what I’d thought when his entire palm wrapped around my heel and ankle as he fixed up my foot.

His hair wasn’t blond like Romeo’s, and it wasn’t dark like Braeden’s. It was somewhere in the middle—a sandy-brown shade that complemented his hazel eyes. He had wide cheekbones, a strong brow, and a straight, almost-perfect nose. He had that clean-cut look so many college guys had, even though the top of his hair was too long and flopped down over his forehead.

I don’t know how long I stared at him, but it was long enough he seemed to notice. A slow, knowing smile tugged at his mouth and his golden-greenish gaze caught mine. “Think you’re gonna be able to walk on that?”

I swallowed and tore my eyes away to glance down at my foot. My dress had ridden halfway up my thighs while everyone was assessing my foot and trying to clean it up. The ankle of the cut foot was thrown over the top of my knee—so unladylike for a girl in a dress. I dropped my foot so it could hang off the counter and tugged the dress until it fell down, covering all my legs from sight.

“Oh yeah, I’ll be fine,” I mumbled.

Trent didn’t say anything, but he did muffle a laugh as he slid his arm around my waist. I stiffened at the unexpected touch. Did I mention he wasn’t wearing a shirt? The skin of his arm and chest was just as warm as his hand had been earlier.

“Have you already been out in the sun?” I wondered out loud.

“I went for a run on the sand this morning,” he replied. His voice was low because I was so close he didn’t have to talk loud.

With one arm, he lifted me off the counter and lowered me carefully to the floor. I put most of my weight on the uninjured foot and balanced with the toes of my other. I wasn’t quite ready to find out how it was going to feel to walk with a chunk of skin missing from the bottom of my foot.

“Thanks,” I murmured when I was firmly on the floor.

He didn’t pull back right away; he waited to make sure I was steady before stepping back and palming some stuff lying nearby. “You should take some of these big bandages. Keep them handy in case we need to change the Band-Aid on the plane.”

“We?” I glanced down at the small stack of wrapped bandages in his hand.

“Yeah,” he replied casually. “If you need help getting it changed, just let me know.”

I took what he was offering and looked up. “Okay.” My voice was weak. I wanted to kick myself.

I became acutely aware of everyone else in the room. Trent and I seemed to have a captive audience. I jolted back from him and took in everyone with a sweeping glance. “I’m just going to make sure the bathroom is cleaned up and everything of mine is packed before we do a final run-through of the rest of the house.”

“I’m going to do that in our room, too,” Rimmel agreed and pulled away from Romeo.

Romeo looked at me. “Just put your stuff by the door. I’ll load it into the car for you.”

“Thanks.”

Trent leaned forward and reached behind me, his arm brushing against my bare shoulder. “I’ll toss this for you.” He stepped toward the trashcan.

As he did, I caught a flash of blue material in his hand.

“No,” I gasped.

Surprised, he turned. “It’s ruined.”

I glanced down at the shirt in his hand. Braeden’s shirt. The one he wrapped around my foot to help stop the bleeding.

“It seems silly to throw away a perfectly good shirt.” What a lame thing to say.

Trent shrugged. “B said to toss it.”

I should have just let him throw it away.

But I couldn’t. It felt like I was losing something. Something I wasn’t ready to let go of.

“Since when do I listen to anything that moron says?” I quipped and made a face. Trent smiled. I reached for the shirt, and he let me have it. “It’s his Wolf Pack shirt. I feel bad I got blood all over it. I’ll try to get it out, and if it doesn’t, then I’ll toss it.”

I tucked the shirt beneath my arm and left the room, feeling like I needed to run but unable because of my stupid foot.

That was the last time I attempted to clean up after myself—especially when it was posted I shouldn’t.

I was moving so slow that Rimmel slowed her pace on her way and glanced at me with worry in her eyes. “Maybe we should have had that checked out.”

I waved away her worry. “I’m fine. Besides, we don’t have time to sit at the doctor’s office. We have a plane to catch.”

She didn’t seem convinced. I smiled reassuringly. “If it looks bad when we get back to campus, I’ll go to the clinic, okay?”

That seemed to make her feel better, and she nodded. “Okay.”

Her concern suddenly choked me up. The well-meaning, honest way she looked at me like she truly cared.

It made me feel small.

Guilty.

Tears pressed against the backs of my eyes and I pulled in a shaky breath.

“Ivy?” Rimmel took a step forward.

I laughed it off and fought for control. “Don’t mind me. I think I have the spring break blues. All this sun and sand has been so awesome that going back to classes and cool weather is making me depressed.”

“Can’t say I’m all that excited about going back, either,” Rimmel admitted. Just by the drop in her voice, I knew this was something she had yet to tell anyone.

All thoughts of myself fled—it was a relief—and I focused on her. The past two semesters had been rough on her. More than rough. She’d been pushed so many times to her breaking point, yet she stood here still. It left me wondering what it was that kept her from snapping.

“If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you,” I told her earnestly. “You know that, right?”

Rimmel smiled. “Yeah, I do. Thanks, Ivy.”

I nodded. Once again, guilt assaulted me. Here I was feeling sorry for myself about choices I made… about actions I took. Basically, damage I did to my own life. Yet there were people like Rimmel who were dealing with fallout from things she had no part in creating.

Romeo came around the corner and we both looked up. His blue gaze latched onto Rimmel, and it was like he saw exactly what was going on inside her. Like he saw past her skin, beneath the smile. It was like he knew.

“I’m afraid I have bad news,” he intoned.

Rimmel stiffened immediately and so did I.

“What now?” I groaned. “Please tell me they didn’t let him out of the loony bin early for extra-psychotic behavior.”

God, that was just what everyone didn’t need.

Romeo shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s worse.”

“What is it?” Rimmel asked, worried. “Is it your arm?”

“Murphy is getting fat.”

It took a minute for the stupid sentence to sink through the horrendous thoughts Rimmel and I were both having.

Several silent beats later, we looked at each other and Rimmel snorted. I laughed.

“You call that an emergency?” I snickered.

Rimmel smacked him in the middle.

“Feline obesity is a very serious issue.” How the hell did he keep a straight face when he said this crap?

“I take it your mother has taken a liking to my cat and is feeding him a million treats a day?” Rimmel asked.

Romeo draped an arm across her shoulders. “Yes, I didn’t think it was possible anyone could feed our cat more than you, but Mom’s managed it.”

Rimmel giggled. “I can’t wait to see him.”

“Let’s go pack.” Romeo steered her down the hall, and I turned toward my bedroom door.

Before I went in, I looked back at the pair as they walked away. Romeo glanced over his shoulder at me and winked.

I flashed him a grin even as something in my stomach sank.

I was so glad she had someone as good as Romeo. Someone who would take care of her even when she could take care of herself. Even the strongest people needed someone to lean on sometimes. Even people with the best of intentions sometimes made mistakes.

Seemed like the past few months of my life was filled with them.

I felt lonely just then. I was standing in the center of a beautiful beach house filled with my very best friends, but I was utterly alone.

Who would make stupid jokes about feline obesity when I felt down? Would anyone ever be able to see beneath my skin, at what swirled beneath? Would I ever be anything more to someone than just a one-night stand?

I was afraid the answer to everything I just asked myself was a very loud, very resounding no.