I’m about to remind him that my brothers are in the next room and they can walk in on us at any moment, but I lose all sense of logic when his mouth dips to my neck and he starts untying the drawstring to my pants.

“I was supposed to have fun tonight,” he rasps against my flesh as his hand disappears inside my panties. “But all I could think about was coming home to you.” I’m trying to process his words, but he grinds the heel of his hand against my clit. “How much I crave this tight pussy.”

A hiss escapes me when he slips a finger inside my slickness.

He groans low and deep. “I love how you’re always so goddamn wet for me.”

It takes every ounce of willpower not to moan when he picks up his pace, teasing me into oblivion.

“Fuck. I could take you right here, baby girl.” My entire body trembles when his teeth sink into my neck, hard enough to leave a mark as he adds another finger. “Bury my dick inside you and make you mine forever.” Something obscure passes in his gaze. “That way you’d never forget me.”

I open my mouth to tell him to do it, but he freezes…right before he starts shaking and falls to the floor.

Shit.

“Oakley’s having a seizure,” I shout.

My heart’s in my throat as I rush to grab a pillow off the bed and place it under his head.

A moment later Jace and Cole are at my side.

“Is he okay?” Cole asks.

“How long has he been seizing?” Jace questions.

“About twenty seconds…so far.”

My mind is spinning trying to figure out how one moment we were fooling around and the next…he’s having a seizure.

Oakley has epilepsy, so seizures aren’t exactly foreign—but I also know his seizures are almost always triggered by severe emotional distress…or drugs.

My stomach drops. “Were you guys with him the whole time tonight?”

Jace and Cole exchange a confused glance.

“Yeah,” Cole answers. “Why?”

“Go,” I tell them. “You two are drunk. I’ve got this.”

They start to protest, but the look I shoot them tells them I mean business. “I mean it, assholes. Get out.”

I wait for Oakley’s seizure to end before I shove my hand inside his pocket.

A ball of dread lodges in my throat when I pull out a tiny plastic bag. It’s empty, but I notice a faint white powdery residue.

Oakley blinks up at me when he comes to. He looks so disoriented I almost forget how livid I am with him.

“You had a seizure,” I whisper, running my hand along his forehead.

I have every intention of confronting him about what I found, but right now I know he needs to rest.

“Is he okay?” Dylan asks rushing into the room.

Sawyer quickly follows suit. “Is there anything—”

“He’ll be fine,” I tell them. “But if you two really want to help, take Jace and Cole home because the calmer it is around here, the better.”

Sawyer nods. “No problem.” Looking down, she blows Oakley a kiss. “Feel better, Oak.”

Standing, I head over to his dresser and pull out a pair of sweatpants for him.

Dylan tries to pry them away from me. “You don’t have to do that, Bianca. I can—”

“No,” I snap, tightening my hold. “I’ve got this.”

I narrow my eyes, daring her to challenge me.

I can’t decipher the expression on her face, but fortunately for her sake, she’s smart enough to back down.

“Fine. If you need anything, let me know.”

“I won’t.”

I can practically taste the retort on her lips, but she bends down and smacks a kiss on Oakley’s cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He gives her a groggy half-smile before closing his eyes.

“You made me grilled cheese and soup,” Oakley whispers as he rolls over in bed.

Snuggling closer to him, I push his dark blond hair out of his eyes. “I did.”

The silence stretches between us until the only sound in the room is our breathing.

“Oakley.”

I wait for him to look at me before I utter, “I found the cocaine in your pocket.”

I wait for him to say something—anything—but he doesn’t.

He averts his gaze, almost like it hurts to look at me.

“Thanks for the food.”

The dismissive tone of his voice makes it clear this conversation is over and he wants me gone.

Tough shit.

“You could have died,” I inform him, even though I know he’s already well aware of that.

Oakley is many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.

Sighing, he reaches for the blunt on his nightstand and lights it. “Spare me the pep talk. It’s not like I do drugs every day.” Inhaling, he smirks. “Except weed.”

That may be true, but it doesn’t make it right.

Because even when he’s not doing cocaine, ecstasy—and God only knows what else—he’s still drinking nearly every day.

Nerves bunch in my stomach as I struggle to find the right words.

Then again sometimes the right words are the exact ones staring you in the face.

The ones that hurt too much to acknowledge.

“You have a problem, Oakley.”

His jaw tics, the tendons along his neck bunching as he brings the blunt to his lips and inhales. “I have lots of fucking problems.”

I refuse to let him skirt around this. “You know what I mean.”

He takes a deep drag, filling the room with the smoke from his marijuana. “Like I said, it’s not like I do hard drugs every day.”

I’m more concerned about why he feels the need to do them at all.

Pushing the covers off, I get out of bed because our bodies touching is too much of a distraction from how important this conversation is. “Why did you do drugs last night?” I hold his gaze. “And don’t you dare lie to me because we don’t do that with each other.”

His voice is a rough, painful scrape as he rakes a hand through his hair. “I wanted to escape.”

“From what?”

The look he shoots me sucks all the oxygen out of the room. “You.”

My throat grows tight as I try to process his words. “Is that your fucked-up way of saying this thing between us is…”

I let my sentence trail off before I can utter the word real.

Because once I say it—there’s no taking it back and the magic between us might go away.

Oakley’s not the kind of guy who does relationships, he’s made that perfectly clear from the beginning.

Expression pensive, he speaks through a thick cloud of smoke. Like what he’s about to say next will change everything between us.

“You do things to me.”

Everything in me goes still. “What kinds of things?”

His voice is so low it’s nothing but a faint rasp, but I hear it.

“You make me feel.”

The air between us becomes heavy as I take a step toward him.

On one hand—Oakley acknowledging he has feelings for me is…well, everything I’ve ever wanted.

But it’s not worth the risk of him using drugs.