I don’t think Old Reina showed emotions. If she didn’t show her makeup-free face, she likely didn’t reveal anything else.
“And you are?” I ask in a cool tone.
“Brianna. You call me Bree—we’re, like, best friends!” she squeals, clutching my hands in hers.
I wince as pain shoots up my arm and to my sore shoulders.
She pulls her hand back quickly, and the pain doubles as my arms fall to my lap. “Oops, sorry. I guess what Asher said is true—you don’t remember.” She throws him a look over her shoulder. “You didn’t tell us it was this bad.”
Did he have to? If her so-called best friend was in an accident and was admitted to the hospital for a week, shouldn’t she have visited? Or at least not partied at the pool with said friend’s freaking fiancé?
And why the hell is that fiancé still here anyway?
A tall shirtless man pushes past her and crouches in front of me. He sports a beautiful tan that complements his dark brown eyes. He narrows them on me as if trying to read something in my face. “You really remember nothing?”
“Of course she doesn’t.” Another blond man in a polo shirt, khaki shorts, and mirror sunglasses stands beside Asher. “Or else she wouldn’t look like a zombie in front of us.”
Elizabeth leans over to whisper in my ear. “The polo guy is Sebastian. The one kneeling is Owen. Both are Asher’s friends and play for the Black Devils.”
I nod, trying to associate the names to the faces. It’s not working so well in my head.
“He’s right.” Bree’s brows furrow, but I can’t help detecting how fake her concern is. “The girls and boys are right outside. You don’t want them to see you this way, Rei.”
“Maybe she does.” Asher finally speaks after watching from afar like a creep.
I don’t actually believe whatever engagement we have is genuine, so I don’t care that he didn’t come to the hospital with Alex. The least he could do, however, is not throw a pool party while I struggle to move.
I throw him a glare before I address Bree. “I just got home from the hospital. I’d rather get some sleep.”
“Yeah, right. Sure.” She pats my hand with mock sympathy. “Don’t worry about the squad. I’m holding down the fort just fine.”
Uh-huh. Why do I feel like that was supposed to be a jab toward me?
“Sure,” I say anyway.
“Wait.” The one named Owen—who’s still kneeling in front of me—cuts in. “You really remember nothing?”
I nod.
“How about the blowjob you promised me after the last game?”
My eyes snap to Asher. He remains completely still, as if his friend didn’t just suggest I give him a blowjob.
His blank face is a mystery on its own. I don’t know if it’s a lack of reaction or a completely different way of showing it.
Meeting Owen’s gaze, I say, “What do I get out of that promise?”
He pauses, taken aback. “What?”
“I wouldn’t promise to blow you if I wasn’t going to get something out of it.”
Asher smirks while Sebastian laughs.
“Well, fuck, girl.” Owen stands up. “You look like a zombie but your tongue hasn’t changed.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Should it?”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe not,” I counter.
Asher moves in my peripheral vision and I could almost swear he was about to say something, but he stops.
Another man comes inside from where Elizabeth walked in earlier. He’s tall with mocha skin and curly black hair. He smiles, and unlike any of the four surrounding me, it reaches his eyes. I mirror it, my heart feeling light. For some reason, I feel like I know him.
Really know him.
“Jason,” Elizabeth says with glee. “You’ve come just in time.”
“How you doin’, Reina?” He stops beside me. “So sorry I couldn’t visit. Mom didn’t tell me.”
Elizabeth laughs awkwardly. “He was at camp. You know, it’s the beginning of the season, Miss Reina.”
“It’s okay.” I smile up at both of them. “I’m alive, after all.”
“And apparently with no memories.” Asher’s biting tone comes from my side.
Apparently with no memories.
What is that supposed to mean?
I ignore him and focus on Jason’s kind expression.
“Well, what are you doin’?” Elizabeth ushers him. “Help me get Miss Reina upstairs.”
He moves, but Asher steps in front of him. “I’ll do it.”
I lift a hand. “I want Jason to do it.”
Asher freezes, and although I can’t see his eyes, the tightening of his jaw is enough to relay his displeasure.
Screw him.
He obviously doesn’t care about me. He made it clear he wants to harm me. If he thinks I’ll just