Truth or Dare You (The Love Game Book 2) Read online

  “Hi, um, hello. I’m, uh, looking for the way to room 407.”

  She looked at me like she’d discovered a particularly stupid species of humanoid. Rolling her eyes, she gestured behind me.

  “Take the elevator to the fourth floor, and then follow the signs for the room you’re looking for.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at where she’d pointed and then back to her. Surely it couldn’t be that easy. Weren’t hospitals known for being labyrinths?

  She raised her eyebrows as if daring me to ask another question before saying, “Next.”

  All righty, then.

  I moved toward the bank of elevators. There were other people waiting, so I stood in solidarity with them as we watched the numbers tick down from the other floors as if we were glued to breaking news.

  Finally one arrived, and we moved as a horde toward it, bumping shoulders and crushing spirits as it became clear only the strong would board. A man dressed in scrubs crashed into an older man wearing an American flag headband, and while they argued over who was at fault for the collision—it was the one in scrubs—I slipped past them both just before the doors slid closed.

  The button for the fourth floor had already been pressed, so I clasped my hands in front of me and tried to keep my breathing even. Other than moving aside to let people off the elevator, I remained still and composed. On the outside, that is. On the inside, I was squirrels at a rave.

  When we reached the fourth floor, I stepped off and moved toward the signs the delightful woman downstairs had told me to find. Rooms 400-435 were to the right, so to the right I went, albeit slowly. I approached room 407 as one might approach a viper.

  The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear voices from within.

  Hesitating, I listened to see if I could discern who was in there. Maybe it was a doctor discussing something that was none of my business. Or a nurse giving him a sponge bath. Should I wait a bit and see if someone came out? Should I knock? Should I run away screaming? What was the correct protocol for barging in on the guy who’d broken my heart and then almost died? Why was everything involving Drew so damn difficult?

  My existential crisis was interrupted by a girl, maybe five to ten years older than me—it was difficult to tell with all the makeup shellacked on her face—ripping the door of his room open.

  “Oh,” she said. “Can I help you?”

  Her tone made it clear she had no desire to actually help me with anything. It was nasally and snide and oddly helped me relax. Catty bitches I could handle.

  But then my gaze drifted beyond her and settled on the bed, in which lay a thinner and paler but no less devastatingly attractive Drew. A noise left me of its own volition—some kind of cross between a gasp and a sob—and it got Drew’s attention.

  He swiveled his head toward me, his eyes grew wide, and his mouth dropped open.

  “Sophia.”

  My name left his lips in a near whisper, his voice sounding hoarse, like he hadn’t used it much recently.

  Everyone in the room looked at me, and while I noticed their attention, I only had eyes for the man in the bed. The man who’d left me yet still looked happy to see me. I’d imagined this moment, but I’d never once considered what the hell I’d say when I first saw him again.

  Though there weren’t too many options.

  “Hi, Drew.”

  D R E W

  She was here. The one person I’d wanted to see the most but had no right to ask to come was here. And she looked…beautiful. The best sight I’d seen in a while, that was for sure.

  “Andrew? Are you going to introduce us, honey?”

  I’d been staring at Sophia, but my mom’s voice broke the spell I’d been caught in.

  “Yeah,” I croaked. Christ, how long was my throat going to feel so raw? “Sorry. Mom, this is my…friend…Sophia.” How big of a cop-out was that? Friend? She was simultaneously so much more and, sadly, so much less than that. “Sophia, this is my mom and sisters.”

  They’d have to introduce themselves. My voice struggled even when I wasn’t in shock.

  “Hi. I’m Pam Nolan. These are my daughters—Amber, Courtney, and Heather.”

  My sisters murmured hellos and issued small waves with their acrylic talons.

  I needed to get them out of here. They’d been suffocating me ever since I’d woken up, and while I’m sure they thought their presence was comforting, the truth was I couldn’t relax around any of them.

  We weren’t close in the best of times, and their pantomime of a doting family wasn’t convincing. I’d actually wondered a few times if this entire experience was turning them into Munchausen syndrome by proxy perpetrators.

  Sophia took a few steps into the room but then stopped. “It’s nice to meet you. I heard Drew was out of the ICU, and I wanted to see how he was doing. But I don’t want to intrude, so—”

  “You’re not,” I quickly interjected, sure I would have yelled it had I been capable of such a thing. “It…it’s good to see you.”

  She looked at me for a long moment. “You too.” She sounded conflicted about whether she meant it or not.

  “Mom, could you give us a couple minutes?” I asked without taking my eyes off Sophia.

  Sophia adjusted her grip on her purse, which she was clutching in front of her with both hands. She turned her head to look out the window to the left of my bed, but she didn’t verbally object to my request for privacy.

  “Oh, um, sure. I guess. Come along, girls. We’ll go down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat. Want anything?” she asked me.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Okay, then. It was nice meeting you, Sophia.”

  “You too,” Sophia responded as my mom and sisters filed past her and left the room.

  We stared at each other awkwardly for a few seconds before I broke the silence.

  “Thanks for coming. It’s great to see you.”

  “Yeah, of course. And it’s good to see you too. You’re looking good.”

  I huffed a laugh that sounded harsher than I intended it to. “I look like shit, but thanks for saying otherwise.”

  “Nah. Alive is a good look on you.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  We lapsed into silence again, and I hated it. Not even the first day we’d met had things been this stilted between us. And while I knew I was the one who’d made it this way, I wasn’t sure how to repair it. Or if I even should repair it.

  When I’d told her she could do better, I wasn’t lying. But I would’ve given anything to have been worthy of her. To have been able to beg her to give me another chance to get it right.

  My throat began to tickle, and I fought to clear it before a coughing fit came on. I stretched to get the water that was on the table by my bed, but it was just out of my reach.

  Just as I was readjusting myself so I could get my hands on it, Sophia was there, grabbing the pitcher and filling a cup for me.

  “Thank you,” I said, though it came out more as a grunt. When my throat wasn’t feeling so Sahara-like, I set the cup down and looked up at her. “Sorry. My throat’s still sore. They had to, uh, intubate me when I first came in, and it stayed in for a while when I was in the ICU. It’s better than it was, but I’m still pretty rough sounding.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but instead of saying anything, she blew out a breath and turned slightly away from me for a second. When she looked at me again, her eyes were watery.

  “That’s… Don’t apologize… I… Shit, I’m sorry. That you went through all that. That’s…” Her voice trailed off, and a tear slipped out the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek until she swiped a hand at it.

  Not knowing what else to do, I reached out and grasped her fingers. She startled at the contact but didn’t pull away. She lifted her head so her eyes could meet mine.

  I smiled. “You did warn me about the bike.”

  She sniffled and gave my fingers a squeeze. “Well, I am always right, so…”

>   I laughed and she smiled, and I thought that maybe this could be enough. Maybe this small moment where we got to be the people we’d been two months ago could be the closure we’d both need to move on without the other.

  “Thanks for coming,” I said again. “Really.”

  She seemed to search my face for something, and I had no idea if she found it or not, but she offered me another small smile.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She sat down on the edge of my bed, and we chatted for a bit about unimportant things—like how hospital food was surprisingly good and how I’d been binge-watching Law and Order—both of us obviously making it a point to stay away from anything personal, even though I was desperate to hear everything she’d been up to since I’d last seen her. Eventually, I couldn’t resist trying to delve a shred deeper.

  “What’s going on with Brody?”

  Her face shuttered instantly, and I internally cursed myself for ruining our easy conversation. I should’ve known better than to ask about her family of all things.

  “I have no idea,” she finally said. “We haven’t heard from him since Christmas, when he made it clear he had no plans to come home anytime soon. He’s dead in a hostel somewhere for all we know.”

  Her words were harsh, but I saw the hurt beneath them. It was one thing for Brody to go AWOL on her parents, but for him to cut off contact with her too was rough. Especially considering they’d spent the entire fall semester having each other’s backs.

  “My phone broke in the accident,” I said, “so I don’t know if he’s reached out to me or not. I asked my family to get me a replacement, but you’d have thought I was asking them for a kidney.”

  She chuckled, but I could tell it was more out of politeness than anything else. She rose, and I knew her stay was over. It was probably for the best anyway. We’d been able to have a good conversation, even if it had been about as deep as a puddle. This was good. We’d be able to leave things on a better note than I’d left them in November.

  She slung her purse strap over her shoulder and looked down at me. “I should get going.”

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s probably getting late.”

  “Little bit. Just…take care of yourself, okay?”

  “I will. I promise.”

  She smiled. “Good. Bye, Drew.”

  “Bye, Sophia.”

  We stared at each other, suspended in time, until she blinked and freed herself from the trance. She made her way toward the door with none of the trepidation she’d had when she came in.

  She was fleeing, and a good man—a better man—would’ve let her get away cleanly. But I just wasn’t that guy.

  “Sophia,” I called out as best I could as she reached the door.

  Her shoulders bunched up at my voice, but she turned around and looked at me expectantly.

  “If you ever felt like stopping by again—and I’d understand if you didn’t want to—but if you ever felt like it, I’d…I’d really enjoy it.”

  I could see the struggle on her face, and I hated myself for putting her in that position, but not enough to take my words back. It’s a wonder what she ever saw in me. I was such a selfish asshole.

  Finally, she spoke. “Maybe, okay? The best I can do is maybe.”

  “Maybe is more than I deserve, so I’ll take it.”

  She didn’t disagree—not that she should’ve. She didn’t reply at all. The door opened and then she was gone, and I was left watching the space she’d just filled, hoping like hell I’d see her again.

  Chapter Three

  D R E W

  It had been a week since I’d seen Sophia, and I hadn’t heard from her—not that I really expected to. But for some reason, I was upset by the lack of contact, even though I knew I had absolutely no right to be.

  I tried to focus on other things, but those other things consisted mostly of my aching ribs and lack of mobility. And thinking about how much recovery time I had ahead of me wasn’t a good way to improve my mood.

  As I lay there feeling sorry for myself, a knock sounded on my door, and a foolish part of me hoped it was Sophia. But when the door opened and I saw the bespectacled face of my doctor instead of the radiant one of Sophia, my mood turned sour again.

  Thankfully, he got right to the point.

  “With all the progress you’ve made, I’d say you are ready to go home,” said Dr. Kline. “Not today, but we can probably discharge you tomorrow.” The tall, lean doctor smiled down at me as my mom fluffed my pillow for the fifth time since he’d arrived.

  She always turned into Carol Brady whenever a doctor came into the room, and that shit was getting old fast.

  My sanity had come to a screeching halt today when my mom had been informed that I might be released. She then ordered our whole family to the hospital, and they’d descended like locusts. Well, everyone except Cody, who was in school.

  “A nurse will come in to review the paperwork with you,” Dr. Kline continued, “but there will be a number of restrictions. Your leg still can’t bear weight, and you’re going to need assistance with a lot of the ordinary day-to-day activities while your other injuries continue to heal. It’s also imperative that you go to all of your follow-up appointments so we can continue to monitor your recovery.” He gave a quick look around at my family before looking back at me. “Do you have someone who can help you manage?”

  Despite Florence Nightingale by my ear, the doctor looked dubious.

  I shared his feelings. While I knew my parents had managed to keep me alive during my formative years, I didn’t want to have to depend on them to do it again. I had no doubt they’d help me out, but that support would become an annoyance for them after two days. They’d be ignoring me and leaving my meals by the door like I was an inmate in no time.

  Not to mention the fact that nothing with them was free. Anytime they wanted something from me, they’d remind me of the time they so selflessly nursed me back to health.

  No thanks.

  I’d already found a place to stay, and while it wasn’t ideal, at least it wasn’t with my parents. I opened my mouth to respond, but my mom cut me off.

  “We’ll take care of him, won’t we?”

  My dad grunted in response. He’d been sitting in a chair staring up at my little TV for the past hour. He didn’t seem to care what was on—he was currently watching Days of Our Lives or some shit like that—as long as it prevented him from interacting with the rest of us. I couldn’t really blame him.

  I’d actually had a reprieve from all of them for the past week. The drama of me being in the ICU had appealed to them, but once I’d been downgraded to a normal patient, they’d all lost interest. I hadn’t seen my sisters since the day Sophia had stopped by, and my mom had only blustered in once or twice.

  This was the first time I was seeing my dad without needing to be high on sedatives to prevent me from yanking the tube out of my throat.

  Cody was the only one who’d come around fairly regularly, stopping by almost every other night, but he typically tried to avoid the times everyone else was here. He was a man after my own heart.

  Dr. Kline gave me a few more instructions before excusing himself from the room. I had to fight down the urge to beg him to take me with him.

  “These doctors keep getting younger and younger, I swear,” my mom said as she sat in the chair beside my bed and pulled out her phone.

  “He’s forty at least,” I said.

  She raised an eyebrow at me. “And that’s old?”

  “It’s not young.”

  “It is to me.”

  “You’re ten years older than him max.”

  She waved her hand at me dismissively and continued pecking around on her phone.

  “Can we go?” my oldest sister, Amber, asked. “If he’s not getting out today, we don’t need to be here, right?”

  “I can’t come tomorrow,” Courtney added. “I have a shift at the salon at three.”

  “What if he gets out in the morni
ng?” my mom asked.

  Courtney scoffed at that. “I can’t get up early. Alejandro said if I show up to work tired one more time, he’s firing me.”

  I’d bet my life he’d told her not to show up hungover, but at least she seemed to care about keeping her job.

  “What about you two?” Mom asked my other sisters.

  “I told Hazel I’d come to her school for Career Day,” Amber said. Hazel was her boyfriend’s eight-year-old daughter, and from what I could tell, the young girl hated my sister with a passion that rivaled the Romans’ hatred of Jesus. I highly doubted Hazel had willingly invited my sister to her school.

  “Aren’t you supposed to have a career to speak at one of those?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

  Her answering glare told me my comment wasn’t appreciated. “I’ll have you know that I am a certified teaching assistant.”

  “Who’s never taught or assisted anyone a day in her life.”

  “At least I can go to the bathroom by myself,” she retorted smugly.

  “Well, you didn’t almost die and shatter your femur to pieces either, so…”

  “Okay, enough!” My mom ran a hand through her frizzy blond hair. “I swear, you’re as bad as you were when you were kids. What about you, Heather?”

  “I guess I can be here,” she said, her voice lacking any emotion whatsoever.

  “I can save everyone a lot of time,” I said. “I already have a place to stay lined up, and I can get myself over there.”

  “What are you talking about?” my mom asked. “You’re coming home so we can take care of you.”

  “No, really, it’s fine. A friend of mine can help me out.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Drew, tell Andrew he’s being ridiculous,” she said to my dad.

  “Stop being ridiculous, Andrew.”

  I rolled my eyes at my dad’s forced concern. I’d never exactly liked being a junior, mainly because it meant I needed to share a name with a person who mostly moonlighted as a parrot.

  “No random person is going to take proper care of you,” my mom added.