Jamie did not remember sitting down.

One moment he was standing in the center of the living room; the next, he occupied the couch while five men formed a tense semicircle around him.

It would have been absurdly flattering under any other circumstances.

At that moment, it felt like an interrogation in which the suspects outnumbered the detective.

“Start at the bar,” Jamie said.

Caleb crouched several feet away. “First, tell me if you have chest pain, blurred vision, numbness, or trouble breathing.”

“I have five roommates who speak in riddles.”

“That wasn’t on the list.”

“Headache. Nausea. Missing memory. Is that useful?”

Caleb’s mouth tightened. “Very.”

He pulled gloves from his bag.

Jamie’s stomach turned when the blue latex snapped against Caleb’s wrist.

Caleb noticed and stopped.

“May I examine you?”

Jamie looked at the others. Their attention rested on him with unbearable intensity.

“They leave first.”

Four men objected at once.

“Out,” Jamie said.

Ethan didn’t argue. He turned and herded Noah and Mason toward the kitchen. Lucas remained by the door until Jamie pointed at him.

“You too, Batman.”

Lucas disappeared without smiling.

Caleb waited until they were alone. “You can ask me to stop at any point.”

“Did you say that last night?”

“Every time I touched you.”

Caleb examined Jamie’s pupils, pulse, neck, and arms. His hands were precise and warm through the gloves. When he reached the dark mark beneath Jamie’s jaw, he leaned closer.

Jamie felt Caleb’s breath near his skin.

His pulse jumped beneath Caleb’s fingers.

Caleb withdrew immediately. “That response isn’t fear.”

“Congratulations on your medical degree.”

A faint flush climbed Caleb’s throat. It was the first time Jamie had ever seen him embarrassed.

“This mark is consistent with suction,” Caleb said. “These smaller patches are contact irritation. The spots near your sternum came from cardiac leads.”

“You put me on a monitor?”

“A portable one. Your heart rate was dangerously high.”

Jamie studied him. “And the blood on Mason’s cuff?”

“You cut your palm on broken glass.”

Caleb removed the gloves. “I want a blood panel. The window for identifying some substances is short.”

Jamie agreed because certainty mattered more than pride.

In the kitchen, Mason had made tea nobody was drinking. Noah leaned against the refrigerator. Ethan stood at the island, reading messages. Lucas typed on two laptops at once.

Jamie entered with a bandage over the blood-draw site.

Noah straightened. “Are you okay?”

“No. Your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“Explain my waist.”

Mason choked on his tea.

Noah rubbed the back of his neck. For a man who flirted with everyone from delivery drivers to eighty-year-old landlords, he looked remarkably nervous.

“You climbed onto the back of the booth,” he said. “You announced you could dance better than me.”

“I can.”

“You fell.”

“Less surprising.”

“I caught you around the waist. Later, when you couldn’t walk, I held you upright in the elevator.”

“That’s all?”

Noah looked at Ethan, then Mason.

“No.”

Jamie waited.

Noah’s usual grin returned, but it was softer. “Before everything went wrong, you put my hands on your waist yourself.”

Heat crept up Jamie’s neck. “Why?”

“You said I talked too much and should dance with you instead.”

Jamie remembered music. Noah’s broad hands. His own back against Noah’s chest. The memory ended before it explained the mark above his hip.

“Did you kiss me?”

Noah’s gaze dropped to Jamie’s mouth.

“You told me where I could.”

The kitchen became too warm.

Jamie turned to Mason. “What did you mean by disappointing me?”

Mason set down his cup.

“You were sick. You hate anyone seeing you lose control, and I couldn’t keep the others out of the room. I thought you might feel humiliated.”

“Did you kiss me?”

Mason’s cheeks colored. “Yes.”

Ethan’s fingers tightened around his phone.

Jamie saw it. So did Noah.

“Where?” Jamie asked.

Mason stepped close enough to point without touching. His finger hovered over the red mark at Jamie’s collarbone.

“There.”

Jamie’s breath caught.

Mason’s eyes were gentle, but nothing about the moment felt innocent. “You were sober. You asked me. I asked twice if you were certain.”

“Why would I ask you to kiss me?”

Pain crossed Mason’s face. “That is the part none of us can answer for you.”

Jamie turned on Ethan. “You said you wanted me. Did you kiss me too?”

“Yes.”

The single word landed harder than the others.

“Where?”

Ethan held his gaze. “Your mouth.”

A memory struck with startling clarity: Ethan’s thumb at the corner of Jamie’s lips; Ethan asking, Are you sure? Jamie dragging him down by his open collar.

Jamie gripped the counter.

Noah moved, but Ethan raised a hand to stop him.

“Let him breathe.”

Jamie looked at Caleb. “You?”

Caleb’s expression remained professional, but his ears reddened. “Your wrist.”

“That barely counts.”

“It counted to me.”

The honesty in his voice silenced the room.

Jamie faced Lucas last.

Lucas closed his laptop.

“You told me to kiss the place nobody else would dare.”

The bruise beneath Jamie’s jaw seemed to burn.

“My neck?”

“The back of it.”

Jamie pressed a hand there. His knees weakened as another fragment returned: Lucas behind him, fingers around Jamie’s wrist, lips hovering at his nape.

Tell me yes.

Yes.

The memory contained desire, not fear.

That frightened Jamie in a completely different way.

“I kissed all five of you?”

“Not exactly,” Noah said. “We kissed you.”

“Because I asked?”

“Because you made rules,” Lucas replied.

Ethan’s phone buzzed.

He read the message and looked at Caleb.

Caleb checked his own screen. The blood drained from his face.

“The rapid panel found a sedative,” he said. “Jamie didn’t black out from alcohol.”

Lucas turned his laptop around.

The hotel access log filled the screen. Five digital keys had opened Room 1708 between one and three in the morning.

Then a sixth entry appeared.

UNKNOWN MASTER KEY — 3:14 A.M.

Jamie stared at it.

Someone besides his roommates had entered the room.

Caleb pulled a chair close but did not touch Jamie. “Your bloodwork may still show the substance. We should go now.”

“And tell a doctor what? That five men carried me between hotel rooms?”

“Tell the truth,” Ethan said. “Including every detail that makes us look terrible.”

That earned him a startled glance from Jamie.

Noah opened his phone and displayed six unanswered calls to hotel security between 3:16 and 3:29. Mason produced a receipt from the lobby pharmacy. Lucas showed the encrypted backup of the corridor footage. Their separate fragments aligned too neatly to dismiss and too badly to comfort him.

Jamie stood. His knees wobbled.

Five bodies moved toward him, then stopped at once.

The synchronized restraint struck harder than the movement. They wanted to catch him. They were waiting to be invited.

“Caleb,” Jamie said.

Only Caleb crossed the space, offering his forearm instead of taking Jamie’s waist.

Jamie held on. “The rest of you are coming to the hospital.”

“All five?” Mason asked.

“You wanted to confess together.” Jamie forced himself toward the door. “You can explain together.”

Behind him, Noah muttered, “This is going to be the most humiliating group trip in human history.”

“Good,” Jamie said. “I’m the one with missing hours. You can survive embarrassment.”