Crushed (Rushed #2) (22 page)

I was reaching mindlessly for another sip of my latte when the worst cramp of my life hit out of nowhere. I gasped and doubled over in mortal pain, clutching my abdomen.
 

Breathe, breathe, breathe!

I felt the surge of warm blood soaking my panties and leggings. It happened so quickly I didn't have time to react.

In the next instant, I was sitting in a pool of warm blood, mortified. I had soaked through the panty liner I was wearing. The pain was so bad I could barely move.

"Morgan?" Dakota stood over me.

Crap. My heart stopped again. How was it possible to be horrified and overjoyed at the same time? I needed him in the worst way. I repeated the
breathe
mantra as my face flamed. I forced myself to look up at him.

His face that was pale with worry.
 

I opened my mouth, with no idea what I was going to say, just as another cramp hit and took away my voice. I moaned and, tears welling in my eyes, grabbed my purse. Blood, my blood, dripped off the chair. I swayed, dizzy and nauseous.

"Go!" Dakota took my arm and helped me up with incredible gentleness. "I'll take care of this." He took his coat off and wrapped it around my waist as I stood. So gentlemanly, like we could cover what was happening.

I ran to the bathroom, which was mercifully empty. I had never been so embarrassed and so thrilled at the same time. I slid into one of the two stalls and pulled a tampon out of my purse. I managed to get to the toilet just as another cramp hit. I looked between my legs into the red water. There were clots, big ones.

No
, I thought.
No, I can't be. This is just a bad period.
I'd had bad ones before.
 

I grabbed my phone and looked up what to do for miscarriages and menstrual clots. My hands shook as I typed and prayed. The screen swam before my eyes. Before eight weeks—I counted back, less than eight—the fetus should spontaneously abort without medical intervention or the need for medical attention. Seek medical help if the clots got too large or there was hemorrhaging.

I'm fine
, I told myself. But I was shaking and scared as I cleaned up. How was I going to get home? How could I walk out of the bathroom with the butt of my leggings stained with blood and my legs shaking? I put my head in my hands and brushed back a tear.

The door to the ladies' room slammed open.
 

"Morgan! Morgan, are you all right?" Dak!
 

His footsteps had never sounded so good. They stopped just outside my stall until his Toms peeked beneath the door. If they had been nervous and twitchy, I think I would have lost it. But his feet were firmly planted, like a knight to the rescue.

I blushed to my toes. This wasn't exactly the kind of throne I'd hoped to be sitting on when my knight in shining armor arrived. Or the most romantic damsel-in-distress situation. I forced myself to reply, but I broke up and my voice cracked, betraying me. I wasn't brave at all. "I'm…I'm fine."

He swore beneath his breath. "Shit, Morgs. Don't lie. You sound crappy."

"Bad choice of words." I grabbed a square of toilet paper and dabbed at my eyes. "I
am
on the toilet."
 

"Shit!" His voice was tender.

"Watch it!"

I pictured him smiling. His Toms inched closer. The stall door rattled. His fingers appeared over the edge. "Need any help in there?"
 

"No! Are you crazy? What are you going to do? Rush in here and wipe my ass?"

His fingers were white. He shook the stall door like he was ready to pry it off. "I'm serious. Look, I have change. Want me to buy you a tampon and toss it over the stall?"

I panicked. "Don't peek over the stall! No one sees me sitting on the john."

"Shy?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I've seen everything you own."

"Modest. I have to preserve some mystery."

"There are two kinds of girls—those who let you see them pee and those who don't."
 

"Profound. You should put that on a T-shirt."

"Maybe I will."

"Damn, now you know my secret—anyone sees me pee and I lose my superpowers." I smiled through my tears.

"Seriously," he said. "Need a tampon?"

"Thanks, I have my own." I smiled through my tears.
 

"Okay. I'll wait for you here."

I didn't have the courage to send him away. I nearly slumped in relief—he wasn't going to leave me alone.

The door to the bathroom opened. I heard a girl gasp.
 

"We'll just be a minute," Dakota said to her, then mumbled something I couldn't hear.

Footsteps receded as I flushed the toilet and pulled up my soaked leggings. I was still blushing when I came out and handed Dakota his coat. "I should wash that—"

"Don't worry about it."

My legs were shaky. I was trembling as I walked to the sink and washed my hands. I couldn't look at Dakota. My face flamed.

He cleared his throat, like he was nervous and embarrassed, too. And uncertain what to do or say. "Everything's cleaned up out there."

I still couldn't look directly at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw he was wearing both his backpack and mine. I nodded. "Thank you."

He gently caught my arm. "This, what happened, seems extreme." He paused. "I'm taking you to student health."

"No!" I panicked. I didn't need to go. If I went, they'd be able to tell for sure whether I was miscarrying or not. And I didn't want to know. "I have heavy periods." Would my face ever stop flaming? TMI. "I'm fine."

"You keep saying that." He took a deep breath. "I'm not convinced."

I reached for a paper towel. "I was caught by surprise." Not a total lie. "I'm usually more prepared." It had never happened like this.

"I'm taking you home. No arguing."

I nodded, meek and pleased. I needed him.

He was holding my coat. He held it for me while I slipped into it.

I stared at the door, trembling at the thought of walking out in public.
 

He put his arm around my shoulder. Why did it feel so damn good?
 

"Screw them, Morgs. People understand. This shit happens." He squeezed my shoulders. "Put your arms around my neck. I'll carry you out."

I could have argued, but I had neither the mental nor physical strength to. I put my arms around him and bent at the knees so he could pick me up.
 

He carried me out of the ladies' room and through The College Grind, out the door and into the freezing day and biting wind.

"You can't carry me all the way home," I said.

"Watch me," he said.

I rested my head against his shoulder.

Dakota

I didn't even notice Morgan's weight as I carried her to the Delta Delta Psi house. She cuddled into me and felt too damn good in my arms. Shit, I was worried about her. She looked pale and in pain.

I carried her up the steps to the house and kicked open the front door with my foot, startling a couple of girls who were sitting in the living room. I ignored them and headed for the stairs.

One of them rushed at me, trying to block my way. "You can't go up there."

I glared at her. "The hell I can't. Morgan's not feeling well. I'm not setting her down until she's in her bed. She needs someone to sit with her. Is Victoria around?"

The girl took one look at Morgan's pale face and backed off. "I'll find her. Or someone."

I brushed past her and up the stairs with our two backpacks bouncing against my back. I'd never been upstairs in the Delta Delta Psi house. "Your room or the sleeping porch?"

"My room. I have a bed."

"Which way?"

"Third floor." She gave me directions.

"Guy on the floor!" I yelled as I carried her through the fire door onto the floor.
 

The class day was in full swing. The sorority was nearly empty. No half-dressed girls in sight. I caught glimpses of rooms through open doors as I carried Morgan to the end of the hall. Blow dryers, makeup, clothes strewn around. Zach had described it to me. He hadn't exaggerated about the girlie mess.

Morgan's door was closed, but unlocked. I managed the knob and pushed the door open with my foot again. Her room was bright and smelled like her perfume. Her bed was covered with girlie pillows.

I set her on a chair, dumped the backpacks, swept the pillows off the bed, and opened it for her. I held out my hand to help her into it.

She bit her lip and shook her head. "I need to get out of these clothes first."

"I'm not leaving until there's someone here to sit with you. I won't look." I turned my back.

I heard her rustling in a drawer behind me. "Modesty's a funny thing, isn't it? You've seen everything I own, but this embarrasses me."

"It shouldn't."

I heard the bedsprings creak.

"I'm decent," she said.

When I turned around, she was sitting in bed with her pillow propped up behind her, wearing a white cami that showed her dark nipples. I wondered if she was just trying to torment me. I grabbed a few of her decorative pillows from the floor and put them behind her, making her comfortable.
 

The girl from the living room stuck her head in the room. "Victoria's on her way back from class. She'll be here as soon as she can." The girl hesitated. "I can sit with Morgan until then."

She looked like a scared frosh.
 

"Thanks," I said. "I'll sit with her until Victoria gets here."

The girl looked like she wanted to argue. I gave her a hard, unyielding stare. She nodded and cast a worried glance at Morgan. "Give me a shout if you need anything."

"You really don't need to stay," Morgan said to me after the frosh had left. "Vicki will be here in no time."

I didn't move. I had a sick suspicion. I needed to know. "This isn't an ordinary period. You aren't…?" I couldn't make myself say the words.

She shook her head and looked into her lap. "I don't know." She bit her lip. "I'm late. Does it matter? It's over now."

"Was there anyone else?" I had to know.

She met my eye and shook her head.

I held her gaze. "Would you have told me?"

"I don't know." Her voice was soft. "I really don't."

Victoria charged in before either of us could say more. She was red from running, and out of breath. She glanced at me and then at Morgan. "I came as soon as I could. I'll take over now."
 

Chapter Sixteen

Morgan

I was sure I'd lost Dakota there, in that moment when neither of us could voice our true fears. Hookup guys don't hang around in general. Hit them with a pregnancy scare and they're long-gone history.

So I was surprised when he called me later that night to see how I was doing. And when he texted me the next day to check up on me again. But there was a strain now, a polite distance. He didn't mention getting together again. And our sobriety buddy companionship seemed like a thing of the past. And then communications simply ceased. I shouldn't have been surprised.

I recovered quickly. By Saturday, I was back to my old self. I was sitting in the living room on Saturday evening, trying to look politely bored and done with the party scene, like it was beneath me, when Zach strolled in to pick up Alexis.

I set down the magazine I'd been mindlessly leafing through. "Well, if it isn't my savior."

He turned my direction and smiled. "Savior? That's a little over the top."

"You did save my life." I felt another huge sigh of relief that all I felt when I looked at him was friendship and gratitude.

He shrugged.

"If you say it's no big deal, I'll have to smack you." I gave him my sly smile, wondering if he could see the difference in me. The lack of desperation. The lack of longing for him. "I suppose you're here for Alexis."