57

Kassie

Missing In Action

I woke up with drool on my pillow, in yesterday's clothes, sore as all get out. Trying to blink myself awake, I pushed up on my elbows. Goddamn. My whole body ached. I groaned and put my head in my hands, thumping back down to the pillow.

Ryan. Pussy-eating. UrgentCare. Gianna's .

"Oh…shit," I whispered.

What woke me up wasn't any of those things though. It was my phone ringing on the nightstand.

Cleo?

"Uh—what's up?" I muttered, barely drawing legible sentences together. "Cleo?"

"We have the photographers here for the team photos."

"What?"

"Where are you?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Where are…? That's at one."

" Kassie . I'm getting tired of you and Ryan going dark on me."

One look at my phone made me swear again. It was a quarter to noon, and by Cleo's timing, we were late for the one o'clock appointment. I thumped back against my pillow. My mouth tasted like I'd licked the inside of a Build-a-Bear. I was absolutely not ready.

"Kassie, please tell me Ryan's with you."

Ryan, the football player who'd presented me with a pre-prepared formal address to start dating? Ryan, the team captain that would rather chop off his own fingers than be late for anything? Gingerly, I leaned up. Nope, not in my dorm. But after the UrgentCare fiasco and us going dark on Cleo, how could I tell her that?

"Uh…yes."

"Tell him to turn his damn phone on. I'll put a tracker in his neck if he doesn't."

"I'll pass on the message."

Maybe Cleo couldn't reach him but I knew Ryan was asleep and the moment he woke up, he'd be calling me. I pushed out of bed. My whole body felt like I'd gone through the taffy machine at the Willy Wonka factory but for the first time ever, I could beat him to getting ready..

I took the fastest shower of my life and kept the phone on the counter, waiting for him to call. Which didn't come. With a frown, I poked out from the shower curtains.

He's still not awake?

The moment I stepped out, I broke down and called him. Nothing.

"Hey, Zariah?" I yelled, pulling open the now-functioning door. "Are you home?"

"Girl, I've been sitting on the couch the whole time."

"Can I get into Ryan's dorm? He's not answering." I debated it for a second. Zariah was only in training to be an RA, I had no idea if she had access to the keys of the buildings yet. But anxiety started to settle in. Ryan didn't disappear. He was always there, maybe out of the camera's range, but I couldn't remember the last time I didn't know his whereabouts. "I'm actually getting kind of worried. He always answers. But that won't get you in trouble, right?"

"Don't worry about it. We'll break into the slut's room."

I snorted and turned back to the bathroom mirror. The steam eased up on the mirror and I could finally see myself.

My breath caught in my throat.

"Holy fucking shit," I blurted out.

"Kass?"

"Uh—don't worry about it!" I'd have to tell Zariah eventually but we were on a time crunch. There weren't minutes to tell her about the dull red and purple blotches up my neck, obviously hickeys. The most obvious hickeys in the world.

I sucked in a breath. Those teeth marks.

Ryan.

He bit me. Heat flooded between my legs, remembering how he'd had me, willing and ready on the couch. He'd bit me and I'd begged for more.

That jolted me awake more than coffee.

And still, nothing from Ryan himself.

As fast as I could, I worked on my neck. Layers of foundation, powder, my roommate's setting spray, all of that was mixed together until all the evidence disappeared. Add that with one of Ryan's jerseys and jeans and I actually looked decent for the event.

Now to go get the missing man of the hour.

"You're never going to believe this," Zariah told me as we walked across campus. "One of our guests got assaulted."

I looked up from my phone, calling Ryan again. "What?"

"I'm so serious. I saw him in the morning, right? Venti iced americano and he looked normal . And then, cut to the end of my shift, I'm closing up the coffeeshop and he limps into the lobby— whooped . Bleeding all over the place, he had a cut on his face this big. The shift leader lost it when she saw him."

"What happened?"

"He said he fell. The shift leader's freaking out—they need to report injuries—but he said he tripped outside of the parking garage."

I stared at her, dumbfounded, as we walked into Roman Villa. "Tripped…into a backhoe?"

"Tripped off the parking garage maybe. I don't know. We have a bet going for what happened."

"What the hell did he do to piss off someone that badly?" I said incredulously.

"No idea." Zariah waved at the desk assistant and slipped behind him to get to the lockbox with the keys. "Hey, Dave. Here for official RA business. Don't mind me." Shifting back, she threw over her shoulder, "I think his wife caught him cheating and she sent a half-decent hitman after him."

I caught the keys when she tossed them. "Maybe he owes somebody some money."

"Either way, he still looks like roadkill."

"You're a lifesaver, Z!" I told her and hurried to the elevator.

"Just bring them back to the desk!"

I pressed the button. "I got it!"

If Ryan wasn't in his room, all I had to do was call Adam and King. They'd been in his car when he'd dropped me off. The elevator inched along to the other floors while I drummed my fingers against my hip, waiting, waiting, waiting for the elevator to stop.

The doors finally opened to Ryan's floor and I bolted out.

I'd never been in the position to wake Ryan up. That was his job. He was the one waking me up with a breakfast burrito and a promise that I could use the aux cord in his car. Everything was weird about this. Especially his dorm - what happened?

Ryan's apartment was always clean and tidy. It's how he kept everything else. But a black shirt was bunched on the ground and his wallet and keys were on the floor. It was only three items but they might as well have an actual landslide.

What the hell?

Ryan's bedroom door was closed. My steps slowed in front of it and I hesitated with my fist hovering over door. I'd never actually gone into his bedroom before.

"Oh my god, he ate your pussy," I muttered. "Get a grip."

I knocked.

Nothing.

With a deep breath, I rapped my knuckles against the wood again. Some people can miss phone calls, it's fine. Not Ryan. Never Ryan.

A low groan answered, and I slowly opened the door.

Ryan was draped over the bed, completely diagonal. He hadn't even slept under the covers. The light from the hallway flooded across his taut back muscles, and his dark curls, fluffy and tousled from his sleep. Those deliciously thick arms were halfway folded on the bed, halfway hanging off, like he'd flopped on the bed without a care in the world.

My fingers twinged against the door, begging to touch him.

No pajamas either, he was shirtless with a pair of jeans on.

Jeans?

Ryan took a struggling breath and forced himself up on his elbows, slow and jagged movements. Oh my god. He didn't sleep at all. My heart squeezed just watching him, Ryan was exhausted.

Fuck. Never mind. I hated waking him up.

He never got sleep and now—when it was my fault he pulled an all-nighter—I had to be the one to drag him off to something as dumb as team photos.

"Kassie?" he croaked.

Oh, god .

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, wanting nothing more than to tell Cleo we couldn't make it. But we already skipped out on so much.

This is horrible .

"What time is it?" He reached for the nightstand and swore under his breath, pressing his forehead against the blankets. "It didn't charge—what time is it?"

I winced. "Noon."

" Goddamnit ."

Ryan didn't hesitate, he hauled himself out of bed and evaded the light from the hallway, heading off to the bathroom faster than I could've. I just stared after him. The one time he actually took a nap and I had to ruin it. I walked over to the bathroom door.

I sighed. "This sucks."

Ryan's voice was muffled through the door and I could barely hear him running the sink water. "I didn't mean to oversleep."

"Not that. I mean—waking you up sucks."

"I'm easy to wake up."

"No, but…you never get…sleep. You need more sleep."

" Shit. "

I frowned and stared at the door. Did he drop something? Ryan swore earlier but nothing like that. Carefully, I pushed open the bathroom door and the sudden light made me blink.

For a moment, there he was, delicious, shirtless Ryan before he jerked over to look at me. After games, I was used to seeing bruises on his body. He was slammed by huge dudes on a field. There were bound to be bruises.

But the bruise on his side, the size of a grapefruit, with a jagged cut above it, made me suck in a breath so hard, my throat hurt. My mouth fell open.

He held up a hand. "It's not as bad it looks."

"What the fuck? " I sputtered.