Andreas’s arms come up to wrap around me. He hugs me to his lean frame so tight that tears I can’t explain spring into my eyes.
He smells just like he should, like sunshine and warm amber. I want to sink right into him.
Then he’s detached himself after all—not shoving but pulling himself away, backing up a step as my head comes up to look at him. He opens his mouth and closes it again, and his gaze veers to someone beyond my shoulder.
I pivot and wobble on my feet with a wave of dizziness. Jacob’s come up behind me—he catches my arm to steady me, his face set in that stupid scowl I’d like to punch right off it.
I yank my arm away. “I don’t want to dance withyou. You’ve been so mean to me over things I never even did.”
Jacob blinks at me, startled enough for his stern expression to break, and glances at Andreas. “What the hell happened to her?”
Andreas’s mouth twists. “She says she had a drink. Just one, and with that girl from the residences hovering over her I don’t think anyone could have slipped something in it, but the alcohol could be interacting oddly with the poison.”
“That’s right!” I say triumphantly, as if Andreas has given me a trump card. I jab my index finger at Jacob, who is continuing to be way too gorgeous even when he’s annoying. “You poisoned me too. Definitely no dancing.”
My legs quiver under me again, even though I haven’t moved them this time. I list to the side before catching my balance against the wall. “The floor’s getting tippy.”
Jacob swears under his breath. “We don’t want her collapsing in here, for fuck’s sake.”
“Nope,” I agree. “Then everyone would know just how big a jerk you are.”
He glowers at me, which really isn’t helping his case.
I glance away from him and notice Zian making his way over. One of the corset-top girls is trotting along behind him, pawing at his arm. And just like that, I’m sad again.
“He doesn’t want me touching him, but these girls he doesn’t even know…”
Andreas grips my shoulder. “It’s okay, Riva. But we’d better head home. You’ve gotten kind of… sick.”
I do feel that way now—all topsy turvy, like my stomach is flipping in somersaults.
I pivot, and Brooke is there, her big kind eyes even wider than usual with worry. “Is everything all right?”
My good mood returns in a flash. I snatch at her hand.
“Yes! Let’s dance some more. It’s definitely not time to go home yet.” A whoop careens up my throat, loud enough that several nearby dancers glance our way. “Let’s paaar-ty!”
Andreas keeps his grasp on my shoulder, the spoilsport. “We think she’s been roofied,” he says to Brooke. “She… doesn’t normally act like this, even when she goes out.”
Brooke’s eyebrows draw together. “I can’t believe someone—we’ve never had any problems here before. I can help get her back to the campus. It was my idea.”
“It’s fine,” Jacob says, coolly and smoothly. “We all came together. No need for you to interrupt your night.”
“I want to dosomething.”
“You could keep an eye out for her hoodie,” Andreas suggests. “We still haven’t figured out where that got to.”
Brooke doesn’t look convinced, but I’m dizzy again, my thoughts too muddled to come up with an argument in my favor.
Zian reaches Jacob’s side, his fawning fan gone off someplace else finally, and studies me with a flex of his arms. “Is something wrong?”
“She’s out of it,” Jacob says. “We need to get her home so she can sleep it off.”
“Not sleepy,” I mumble in an ineffective protest.
In the face of all their concern, Brooke eases back. “All right. If I find her hoodie, I’ll drop it off in your mailbox.”
“Thank you,” Andreas says, flashing a smile, and then they’re ushering me out of the club.