Page 32 of Claiming Lily

“I’m fine,” I lie, shoving client files into my purse. “But I need to work from home the rest of the day.”

The room gives another subtle spin as I stand, and I grip the edge of my desk to steady myself. My vision goes fuzzy around the edges, like someone’s adjusting the contrast on a TV screen. Oof. Okay. I definitely need a good night’s sleep.

“Lily, maybe you should sit down for a minute⁠—”

“I’m fine,” I repeat firmly, but my legs suddenly feel like they’re made of water. I take one step toward the door and the world spins.

The last thing I register is the sound of Ryan calling my name and the cold kiss of the floor against my cheek.

The sound of arguing voices cuts through my drowsy haze. My eyes flutter open to fluorescent lights and beige walls that definitely don’t belong in my beautiful guest room at the guys’ house. Where the hell am I?

“—don’t know who the hell you think you are!”

That’s Ryan’s voice, pitched higher than usual with indignation. My head throbs as I try to piece together what happened. The last thing I remember clearly was driving to meet Tom for another property showing. Then . . . nothing. A blank space lives where my memory should.

“You better stop yelling if you know what’s good for you.” Hudson’s voice is low and dangerous, the kind of tone that makes smart people back down.

I try to sit up. It’s hard to do when my muscles are heavy and disconnected. A groan escapes my lips, and the arguing stops.

“Lily?” That’s Cole’s voice, closer than the others. “Hey, you’re awake.”

I blink several times, trying to bring the room into focus. A table and chairs, a fancy coffee maker. I’m lying on the couch in the break room. Gage appears in my peripheral vision, his expression tight with concern.

“What happened?” My voice comes out scratchy and weak.

“You passed out,” Sarah says, stepping into view. “I called Callie, but she couldn’t get here quick enough so she said she’d call these guys.” She frowns at them.

I can’t blame her for being suspicious considering the fact that I’ve never talked about them. They’re not strangers, everyone knows everyone in Big Ridge, but no one knows that I’ve been staying with them.

Guess that cat is out of the bag. The only good thing about all of this is Laura isn’t here. She’d probably have plenty to say about the situation.

“How did I get in here?” I ask.

Sarah glances at me again. “Ryan brought you in here to rest.”

Ryan nods, jaw tight. “You scared the hell out of me,” Ryan continues. There’s something accusatory in his tone. “But apparently I don’t get to be concerned about my coworker because you’re . . .” He looks between Hudson, Cole, and Gage like he’s trying to figure out what exactly they are to me.

“Her roommates,” Cole interjects.

Yup, there goes the cat.

“You’re staying with these guys?” The question comes out sharp, almost accusatory.

Cole steps forward. “And what about it?” The question dances on the edge of a blade. Hudson’s jaw is clenched so tight I’m surprised his teeth don’t crack. Gage has gone completely still in that way that means he’s two seconds from doing something everyone will regret. Ryan, oblivious to the warning signs, keeps pushing.

“I only think someone should know if you’re living with three guys. It’s not exactly appropriate.”

The masculine tension in the room makes me dizzy all over again, like I’m caught in the middle of a pissing contest I never wanted to be part of. But then my stomach growls so loudly that everyone stops glaring at each other and looks at me instead. The sound echoes through the break room like a dying animal, and I realize the dizziness probably has more to do with the fact that I haven’t eaten anything substantial since yesterday than it does with whatever testosterone-fueled drama is happening around me.

“I want to go home,” I say, trying to push myself up from the chair.

Ryan immediately steps forward. “I think you should stay. Get checked out properly. Maybe call an ambulance⁠—”

“No.” The word comes out sharp, and I take a breath to calm down. He’s only worried. I can’t fault him for caring. There’s no need for melodrama, though. “I want to go home.”

Ryan’s face falls, but then he rallies. “Lily, I really think⁠—”

“She said no.” Gage’s voice cuts off Ryan’s protest. “She doesn’t need your permission.”