Brow furrowed. Mouth tight. Eyes narrowing and dissecting.

Luke has no idea I’ve had sex with CJ. He’s wondering what I’m doing here, since I obviously don’t belong. I’m reading that loud and clear.

I push off from the wall and turn to face them both. “Hi,” I greet them softly, looking to the doorway and then back into their faces. I clear my throat. “I was just, uh, getting my steps in before my rotation starts.” I hold my wrist up and show them my FitBit. “And I heard your voices. I had no idea this was CJ’s room. Some coincidence, huh?” Laughter catches in my throat.

Ben’s eyebrows raise.

“This is my favorite floor to walk on. It smells the best,” I quickly add, wincing when I hear how ridiculous that sounds.

It smells the best?

Shut up, Riley!

Keeping his smile and pairing it with the laughter he’s holding in, Ben turns to Luke. “You ready?” he asks.

Smirking now, most likely due to my terrible lying I’m certain neither one of them are buying, Luke’s eyes leave mine. He gives Ben a silent nod, then the two of them move past me and head down the hallway. I watch them disappear around the corner. They never look back.

Maybe they’re going to pretend they didn’t see me here? That would be seriously cool.

I should make a donation to the Ruxton Police Department. Of course, you need money to make a donation and I don’t exactly have any . . .

“Are you coming in today, or what?” CJ calls out from inside the room, spinning me back around and startling me.

My eyes widen. I feel my cheeks warm.

He knows I’ve been here.

I slow my breaths as I step up to the doorway and fill it, peering inside CJ’s room for the first time. I look over at him.

He’s sitting up in bed, hospital gown on, sheets bunched up around his waist and tucked under his injured leg for easy examination. White bandages wrap around his ankle and halfway up his calf. It looks swollen. Parts of the bandage are stained brown.

My stomach clenches when I think about how much blood he lost. I know there were cuts on his back too. He was bleeding from those as well. He seemed to be bleeding from everywhere.

God, how many stitches did he need?

“Hey.”

I lift my gaze after CJ speaks. He’s staring at me, bright blue eyes looking alert but with shadows under them. Dark smudges revealing his exhaustion. Behind an overgrown beard that’s a shade darker than his golden auburn hair, the corner of his mouth is lifted.

“Come here,” he says. His voice is rough. He sounds tired.

I wonder how much pain he’s in. Maybe he isn’t sleeping well.

“Are you comfortable right now? Are they giving you anything?” I ask, hooking my thumb behind me as I keep my spot in the doorway. “You can ask them for something stronger. If what they have you on isn’t working, they need to give you something else. I can ask them.” I drop my hand and begin to pivot around. “Let me ask them . . .”

“Riley.”

CJ’s voice halts me. I stop mid-turn and look back at him, meeting his eyes.

“Come here,” he repeats, a little firmer this time. His mouth is tight now.

I exhale a breath, then I step into the room and move around the bed so I’m on his non-injured side. I take a seat in the chair pulled up to the bedside and knot my fingers together in my lap.

The monitor CJ is hooked up to beeps when he shifts back and sits up taller. I follow the tubing coming from his IV bag to the needle going into his arm.

“Are you in pain? Does your leg hurt?” I ask, lifting my gaze to his face.

“I’m all right,” he says through an easy smile. It does nothing for my nerves or the guilt I feel eating away at me. That’s deep in my bones. I fear it will never go away.

“And your back? Is your back okay? Did you need stitches there?”

CJ shakes his head.

“Anywhere else?”

“You’re blaming yourself for this. You need to stop,” he orders, reading my worry and ignoring my question. His face is serious now. “This wasn’t you, babe. You didn’t put me in here.”

“He didn’t want to go. I made him go,” I reply. “I . . . I begged him. I don’t know why it was so important to me. I should’ve just gone by myself. This never would’ve happened.”

“You get him the coke he snorted?” CJ asks, even though I think he knows this answer already.

I bite my lip and shake my head.

“You push me into that window? Was that you?”

“No, but I—”

“Wasn’t you, Riley,” CJ interrupts. “What he did, the drugs he took, those consequences are on him. You’re not taking the blame for this, babe. The only thing you did was ask your man to accompany you to shit he should’ve been going to in the first place. That’s it. Me being here is not on you. That’s on me and that’s on your man.”

“He’s not my man,” I rush out, watching CJ’s eyebrows raise. “I, uh, ended it.” I shrug. “When he got arrested, I ended it. It’s over.”

“You ended it `cause he got arrested?”

“We weren’t doing good,” I confess, and I see understanding flash in CJ’s eyes. “Richard getting arrested and everything else that happened that night, that was just the final push. I think I would’ve broken up with him even if that wouldn’t have happened. We just weren’t working anymore.” I sigh, shaking my head. “I was so stupid to think some concert he didn’t even want to go to would fix that.”