50

Kassie

An Embarrassing, Stupid Situation

I figured in the car ride with Ryan, we'd come up with an actual plan. Talk things out. But when I was put in Miles's car and Ryan drove behind us, I realized we were actually driving to UrgentCare and my neck was actually smothered in hickies, and on the grand scale of things, this was a bad fucking idea.

Being embarrassed over something is one thing. Being embarrassed over a stupid situation is another. From the drive to the first clinic, too full to accept anyone, to the drive to the actual place that Cleo wanted to go to in the first place, to the paperwork, to the waiting, waiting, waiting, too much time passed for me to pull a ‘just kidding, guys.'

I was mortified.

And the thing was, the moment I shrugged off the hoodie, we were screwed.

"I have to take a phone call," Cleo told us with an apologetic smile. "I'll be right back."

Ryan nodded and I told her to have a good phone call while I watched her take the long walk to the hallway. The waiting room was crammed full of people who actually needed to be there. This couldn't be more mortifying.

I tugged on Ryan's sleeve and leaned over. "Miles, I need to throw up."

"Huh?" Cleo's fiancé slipped out his headphones. "What?"

"I need to throw up and Ryan's coming with me."

"You do?" Ryan asked, confused.

You dumb, beautiful man. Understand signals!

Miles glanced between us. "Do you need me to…?"

"Nope!" I grabbed for Ryan's hand and tried to be the one to drag him across the waiting room, like he didn't easily overtake me and pull me along. I pretended to hobble as long as I could before we rounded the corner to the bathrooms.

"Do you want me to hold back your hair?"

"Ryan, I'm not actually going to throw up." I tugged down his hoodie and exposed my neck. "Give it to me straight. How bad is it?"

His eyes trailed down my neck. A grin tugged up on his lips. "That's so sexy."

" Ryan. Good lord, why am I asking you?" I pushed open the door to the bathroom and walked inside. Holy. Fucking. Shit. I stared at the mirror for exactly three seconds before I walked right back out. " Ryan. What the fuck? "

He gave the fakest apologetic smile I'd ever seen. "Sorry."

"You're not sorry."

He gave me a loop-sided, boyish grin. Something that rarely broke on his face. "No, I'm not. I like it. The bite mark's going to be hard to cover though."

"Oh my god. The bite mark? " My hand shot to my neck again.

I'd seen my throat for exactly three seconds but the array of hickeys was insanity. Ryan had done a number on my neck. I couldn't even wrap a scarf around them, if there was an inch-by-inch space exposed, we'd be exposed.

"We have team photos today," I whispered.

"How long do hickeys take to heal?"

"I don't know!" I sucked in a breath. "You tell me! How long did it take the other girls to heal?!"

"Kassie, I've never done this before."

"You don't have to lie, Ryan ."

"I've never done this before." He held up his hands. "Art girl, ask me to name off the best catches in the last five years, I can do it. This is outside what I know."

We need to cover up the whole thing .

"Ryan?" I grabbed his arms and stared up at him, hard. "You need to go to Roman Forest."

"What? Why?"

"You need to get my makeup."

There's no way they'll let him up .

"Fuck." I squeezed my eyes shut. "You need to wake up Zariah. Go to my dorm. Get my makeup."

"Is it…in a bag…? Where do you store makeup?"

Oh my god, this is not going to work .

I gripped him harder. "Don't worry about it, just get Zariah. You can do this. I believe in you. I need you to get my setting powder and setting spray, my color corrector, I'll need all my brushes—"

Ryan stared down at me. I'd never seen him so genuinely confused. "Color what?"

"Give me your phone." I took another look behind him to make sure Cleo and Miles weren't investigating how we were doing. "Open up the notes app."

"I don't have that app."

" Everybody has that app."

I started typing in everything I could think of, everything I could possibly need to make the hickeys and bite mark go the hell away. Ryan peered over my shoulder.

He nodded. "Look at that. You can just write things on there. That's a good app."

"Some of the makeup labels are ripped." I tried to write down explanations but those weren't Ryan-coded. We were running out of time. "Ryan, look at me. You need to go get my makeup and you need to get back here before they call us in."

Ryan nodded solemnly. "Got it."

"You can do this," I urged him. "You've got the ball and five seconds on the clock."

"Five seconds on the clock." He nodded to me and disappeared down the hallway. The moment he was gone, I breathed out a sigh of relief, but he reappeared just as quickly, long strides up to mine.

My eyebrows furrowed. "Did you forget something?"

"I just have one question."

"Uh-huh?"

Ryan shifted on his back leg. "Do you like me?"

" What? "

Of all the curveballs he could've thrown at me, that one left me stumped the most. Was Ryan serious? Yes. He was. Because the football player didn't make jokes. I blinked at him ad a huge blush crossed my face. I'd never had a guy ask me something like that. Not once.

"I just—you just—" I sputtered. "On your couch—"

"But you can come on someone's face and not like them," Ryan pointed out, unperturbed by the insanity of the conversation. "I want to know if you like me."

"Of course, I like you," I whispered, my face hot.

The boyish grin lifted his lips. "Okay. Awesome. I like you too."

"Would you go get the makeup?! "

"Will do."

He dipped down and kissed me on the cheek. I couldn't have said anything to him if I tried, I was an exhausted mess of embarrassment. Just as quickly, he turned around and made a line to the exit. I touched my cheek, watching him.