Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
He doesn’t look up. I realize after a second that his eyes are closed.
He’s so beautiful, it hurts to look at him.
I imagine it also hurts to be him right now.
I swallow once, fold my arms tightly against my chest, then part my lips to speak. “S-Stefan?”
His attempt at opening his eyes is lackluster. He barely turns his head, as if my voice is nine dimensions away. His tongue comes out to wet his lips, which I realize are more bloodied than his face. “Hnnh …” he groans.
“Fuck,” I breathe, then crouch down by his side. “Stefan. Can you hear me?”
He coughs again—the same cough that led me to him—and he tries to open his eyes again.
His beautiful, striking blue eyes cut through the violent red mess of his face and wet, matted hair. His eyes seem to search for my voice through a haze of pain and longing.
Okay, maybe not longing. Maybe he’s just drunk as fuck.
“Stefan. It’s me,” I try again. “It’s Ryan. Can you hear me?”
He grunts something unintelligible, then coughs, this time ejecting flecks of blood into his rugged beard.
Oh. Beard. He has a beard now.
Now’s not the time to get all horny on him. He needs your help, Ryan.
“Ryan?”
The unexpected voice of Dana, who appears out of nowhere, makes me jump to my feet. I issue a sigh of relief when I see her, then wince apologetically. “Sorry. You scared me.”
“That’s what my ex said every time I got horny. I can get a bit aggressive. So you know the guy?” she asks, nodding at Stefan.
“Y-Yeah. High school buddy of mine.” I look down at him. Stefan is so out of it, I wonder if he needs to go to the hospital, or if that’s overdoing it. Believe it or not, I’ve never been in this kind of situation before.
“He looks pretty bad,” murmurs Dana worriedly.
I wring my hands. I’m officially wringing my hands. “Should we call an ambulance?” I ask her.
“No,” grunts Stefan.
The totally clear and intelligible word startles me. I crouch back down to bring my face level with his. “Hey. It’s me. It’s Ryan.”
“F-Fuck ambulances,” he gets out, nearly growling. “I’m … I … I-I’m fine …” He coughs again. It sounds decidedly not fine.
“Bro, I think we should get you to a—”
With sudden energy, Stefan pushes himself off the ground. I back away warily to give him space. Stefan might be so drunk that he doesn’t recognize me and could come after me the same way he went after that guy in the bar. I know the power that lived behind Stefan’s biceps when we were teenagers; I don’t want to learn what lives behind them now.
Stefan takes one step, staggers slightly, then takes another.
And then he starts to fall.
I catch him at once, grunting under his weight. Damn, he’s heavy. He must have a foot holding him up because I’m somehow able to keep him upright. Well, kind of upright.
“Put your arm over my shoulder,” I tell him.
“F-F-Fuck off,” he grunts.
“Theeere’s the buddy I know,” I tease. “Move your feet, one at a time, and put an arm over my shoulder. I got you.”
Whether my words reach him or not, he seems to rely on me anyway as we half-walk, half-stagger together toward the parking lot. Dana comes to his other side, though Stefan seems to be holding most of his weight.
Dana speaks across him to me. “Are you planning to—?”
“I don’t know,” I confess.
When we reach my car, I pop open the back door, then Dana and I guide Stefan inside. He slumps across my backseat with a low groan, then lies there like a sack of meat.
“He’s bleeding on your leather,” Dana whispers.
I shut the door behind Stefan and turn to her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, no, no, it’s fine. I grabbed the bill. Drinks can be on you next time,” she adds with a little nervous chuckle. She eyes my car, her face turning serious again. “You better take care of that one. He’s a hot mess.”
I stare through the window of the backseat myself. Stefan’s eyes are closed, he’s on his side, and he’s hugging himself. My heart is breaking here, and I don’t know what to do.
I shrug at Dana. “Should I take him to the hospital anyway?”
She considers him through the window. “I don’t know. I’m not a nurse. I want to say better safe than sorry, but on the other hand, he totally looks like a guy who’s been in a fight or two.”
I’m tapping my foot nervously on the pavement. I can’t seem to make it stop. It’s all I hear, even louder than the bugs tapping and flitting in the tall parking lot lights. “Maybe Stefan just needs to sober up. I can take him back to my place.”
“Stefan? That’s his name?” She smiles. “Sweet name.”