Siren's Mark

Chapter 10

"Well at least you know it," she says with a smirk.

"And you could have done it without making a mess in the bar for me to clean," Kieran adds. "Management is already pissed about the whole incident. You're gonna have to work your Siren magic on a bunch of people before you can come back to Pike's."

"Yeah," Kami says. "Throwing a stool was pretty much the opposite of subtle. You can officially no longer give me crap for being obvious with my powers when you're out there juggling furniture for a crowd of twenty."

"Hey guys," Jen says as she walks in. "She's fine, a little embarrassed about everything, but totally okay."

I feel like my heart just beat for the first time in over an hour.

"The doctors think the alcohol and stress made her lose her balance and that caused the fall. The cut on her head is just a surface wound and they don't think she has a concussion. They said the head just bleeds a lot and it looks scarier than it is. I told her you guys were here, but uh..."

I'm pretty sure the words about to leave her mouth are something akin to 'but you're a total fucking twat and she doesn't want to see you.' Or whatever Americans say instead of twat.

"Yeah," Kami says, giving me a comforting pat on the back. "We don't expect her to want to chat right now. We just wanted to know she's alright."

"Are you gonna stay with her?" Kieran asks Jen.

It's killing me that he's suddenly all caring and sensitive right now.

"No, uh," she says. "I asked, but they said they don't allow people in the patient rooms this late. They're gonna watch her overnight, but she'll mostly be sleeping anyway. I'm gonna grab a bag of her things and swing by to pick her up in the morning."

Jen lets us know she's heading out. Kami and Kieran nod and gather their things. They both seem to know better than to ask me if I'm coming with them.

𝔸𝕧𝕒

A bit of sun is peeking into the hospital room window. I can't believe it's already morning. The nurses kept me up all night, clicking buttons on my monitor and waking me up to check my vital signs. The lack of sleep, my drinking last night, and this stupid cut on my head have created the perfect storm for a monster headache.

Oh god. Last night.

Tell me I didn't do that. Tell me I didn't get into a screaming match with Zane in the middle of the bar, make out with that creep just to make him jealous, and then smack my head on the way out and end up in the hospital.

I touch my head and feel a bandage over what seems to be a stitch or two. I know they gave me a few stitches, but it was numb until now.

Ouch.

"Hey," a voice says from the doorway.

It's Zane. His broad shoulders and shaggy hair are instantly recognizable in my peripheral vision.

"Um, hey," I say.

I'm trying my best to pretend I'm not thoroughly embarrassed right now, both by my behavior last night and the tumbled-in-the-dryer-for-three-hours look I have going on right now.

What happened last night? Did Zane punch that guy because of me? Because I kissed him? Oh god, why am I so awkward?

"So, love," he says, looking down at his shoes and combing a hand through his hair. "You took a bit of a dive last night, eh?"

Kill me now, please.

"Yeah, I lost my footing I guess... How did you get back here?"

"I told you, love. I'm good with people."

Yeah, I remember hearing all about his way with people. I remember seeing it with his date last night. Why is he even here?

"Well, um... thanks for checking on me. I'm fine."

"Can I say something?" he asks.

"You've kinda got me as a captive audience here," I say, gesturing to the machines I'm hooked up to.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"For which part?" I ask. "Saying I'm not worth your time? Saying you felt sorry for me? Or laying out the guy who I was making out with?"

"I..." he pauses. "Fuck... all of it? Or... hell, maybe not that last bit."

He runs his hand through his hair again, tugging on the ends.

"Okay," I say. "Good to know."

I'm not giving him the satisfaction of accepting his apology. I don't care if I'm being petty.

"Why are you so frustrating?" he asks, his voice strained as he pounds a fist hard against the wall.

"How am I frustrating?"

"It's like you're constantly trying to infuriate me."

"How am I doing that?"

"By not accepting my apology. By getting mad when I try to help you. By kissing that prick in front of me."

"We're not together, okay? You made it pretty clear I'm not your girlfriend. Besides, you had your own date to attend to."

I feel my eyes getting teary again. Damn it, why can't I be more badass right now?

"She's just a mate, okay?"

I hope he means that in the British way...

"A friend," he quickly recovers. "I was... I guess I was jealous. I don't know. I've never been... that before."

I know I shouldn't find that romantic, but I feel a bit swoony hearing him say those words. He sits down at the edge of my bed.

"Jealous?" I ask.

"Yeah, I... I've never had... competition before. I've never had to share what I wanted."

My heart flutters. Damn... that was smooth.

"And what do you want?" I ask, hoping I know the answer.

He turns and leans toward me, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. This is the first time he's ever looked like this before, almost a little shy.

"I want you."