Gray watched her sleep, tracing the tangled blue-and-black swirls of hair that flowed over her shoulder. She slept like the dead, never making a single sound. Even her lashes didn’t flutter. But her heartbeat stayed strong and true under his other hand.

If that had changed for even a second during the long night he’d spent sitting with her on the lumpy couch in the Feldmans’ basement, he would’ve hauled her off to the E.R. He wouldn’t risk her health even if his parents found out and grounded her for a century. But that steady beat never wavered, so he’d called his worried parents shortly before midnight and told them Jazz was with him. She was fine. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her, ever.

Except he already had. He should’ve known she’d be curious about the Feldmans’ party, especially now that she was friends with Stacey. That girl liked to party. Hard. He didn’t know if Stacey had been the one to slip something in Jazz’s drink or if it had been some other creep—like that jerk Toby who’d been watching her dance until Gray showed up—but he recognized the signs of a girl who’d been roofied. Jazz never drank to excess. Though there was a first time for everything, his gut told him this wasn’t it.

Someone had fucked with her, which meant they’d fucked with him.

She curled into his chest. Slowly, she opened her eyes. “Gray?”

Her weak, thready voice rekindled his anger. Whoever had done this to her would wish they’d never laid eyes on those fucking drugs once he showed them the error of their ways.

“Yeah,” he gritted out, brushing his fingers over her cheek. “How’re you feeling?”

“Stupid.” Wincing, she sat up and seemed to realize that she was on his lap. “Whoa. What’s going on? Where are we?”

Just as he’d thought. She didn’t remember the end of last night. Sure, some blackout drunks experienced the same. That wasn’t Jazz. He’d never believe it.

“You’re safe,” he soothed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Her forehead puckered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We’re in the Feldmans’ basement. There was a party. Do you remember any of that?”

“Yeah. I came here with Stacey.” She glanced around. “Where is everyone?”

“It’s the next morning. Everyone’s gone. Well, except for Beth, her boyfriend and a few friends sleeping it off upstairs.”

She rubbed her temple. “My head hurts like I got loaded.” She frowned. “I only had two beers. Why do I feel like this?”

“You’re sure? You remember that part?”

“Yes, I remember. Some parts are fuzzy. The drinking part I remember, because the first beer I drank tasted funny. I took a second one, figuring that maybe I just needed to get used to the taste. The second one was even worse.”

He smoothed his hand over her knee, avoiding her gaze while he hauled his ragged emotions back into line. He wasn’t going to go off in front of her. She already didn’t feel well and she’d had a shitty night.

A coppery flavor filled his mouth and he swallowed it away. He hoped it had only been shitty.

“Who gave the beers to you? Do you remember?”

She pursed her lips and looked off in the distance as if she was struggling to line up the details. “I don’t know his name, but it was the same guy both times.”

“I just bet it was,” he said, idly stroking her jean-clad knee to keep from punching a hole through something. Anything. “Sure it wasn’t Toby? The guy who was watching you dance?”

“I was dancing?”

“Yeah.”

Her cheeks flooded with color. “Like on a table?”

“No, just here, in front of the couch. Unless…” He refused to think about any other possibilities right now. “Was Toby the one who gave you the beers, baby?”

She blinked up at him. “You just called me baby.”

“Don’t worry about that.” That was for him to worry about later—that he’d let himself slip that much—after he made sure she was okay. “If you don’t know his name, describe him to me.”

“I don’t know him. He’s a senior. He was tall with dark hair and big shoulders.” She shrugged. “That’s all I recall. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing, really. He gave me a beer and Stacey took one. Then later on, he came downstairs to talk to Toby and he offered to get me another.”

“Did he touch you?” he asked sharply.

“No, I don’t think so. Toby tried to—” She broke off, her flush increasing. “You think he did something to my beers. That’s why they tasted weird.”

“I think it’s a good guess.” He fought to keep his tone level. “He probably put roofies in them.”

“Like…the date rape drug?”

“Yes.” He rubbed his thumb along the seam of her jeans, not looking at her. “You don’t remember anyone doing anything, do you?”

“Toby grabbed my boob but I think you mean more than that.” She shook her head rapidly. “No. I’m pretty sure nothing more than that happened.”

He swallowed, hating that he needed to press the subject but knowing he had to. For her. “There’s a bathroom right down the hall. Can you go down there and…check? Just make sure you don’t see any unusual bruises or anything out of place.”

“You think someone raped me and I don’t remember?” She shook her head again. “No. I’m sure that didn’t happen.”

“Jazz.” He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Go check as best as you can, all right? For me. If something did happen, we have to know now so we can…” Jesus, he couldn’t do this. Couldn’t say this. “…take the appropriate steps.”

Her eyes filled. “What we? If someone hurt me, I’m all alone. I’ve always been alo—”

“No.” It took everything he possessed to keep his voice firm. She was shaking now, and he wasn’t far from it himself. “You aren’t alone anymore. I’m with you, for everything. I’ll wait for you right outside the door, and no matter what, we’ll face it together. Okay?”

She closed her eyes and nodded, then she slipped off his lap and walked down the hall with her head held high.

True to his word, he followed and waited until she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. The relief on her face caused the knots in his stomach to untwist all at once. “Everything all right?” he asked, needing to hear her say it.

“Yes. Everything’s fine. No bruises, no…irritation or sign of anything anywhere. I’m fine.” She let out a long breath as his arms came around her, hard. “God, why do guys do that? Why would someone be that desperate for sex?” She gazed up at him, chin quivering. “You wouldn’t ever do that, would you?”

“Of course not. Never.”

“You promise?”

He set his chin on her hair and tried not to let the indignation through that she even needed to ask. She was understandably shook up. “I promise.”

“Okay.” She pressed her face into his throat and exhaled shakily. “Okay.”

“No, not okay. I get that you want to go to parties and all that, but I can’t risk this happening again. My parents would never forgive me,” he added hastily as she began to argue.

“You’re not responsible for me.”

“I damn well am. If you want to go to parties, fine. Awesome. But we’ll go together.”

She rubbed her eyes, smearing her mascara. The raccoon look only made her blue eyes more pronounced. “Why would you want to go with me? I’m a lame freshman. You’re a senior.”

“You’re not lame.” He pushed lightly at her shoulder. “Sometimes I even kinda like hanging out with you. Once a month or so.”

The corner of her mouth curved. “What about when you have a girlfriend? Won’t she get pissed you’re hauling around a spare tire?”

“Didn’t I already tell you I don’t have girlfriends? Besides, friends look out for each other. Do we have a deal?”

She studied him for a long minute then nodded reluctantly before gifting him with a gorgeous smile. His Jazz’s smile. “Deal.”