Page 107 of Her Devils

Then there’s Penn.

Motherfucker.

No, it isn’t just that I’m worried that Lenley might still be in love with him, or the fact that I was right that the second Len stopped pining for him and moved on, the asshole wanted what he realized he could no longer have.

I run a hand over my face, my skin clammy and cold at the same time.

Penn came over to the table I was at with all our teammates when I was about to ask Lenley to dance with me.

He wanted to talk, see if there was a way to overcome our differences, and give being teammates a real shot.

He wanted to have a drink with me and talk things over.

I fell for it just like I did when we were sixteen and Penn asked for my help with his GPS, taking me away from the locker room while his cronies stole and damaged my wingsuit and the rest of my equipment.

I can’t believe I fell for it again.

He asked the bartender to pour a shot and then another. When I told him that maybe we should slow down, get a beer, and just talk, he called me a chicken.

More shots were poured, and we kept knocking them back. Only, he must have had water in his glasses rather than vodka or something like that at a certain point.

It’s the only possibility, because while I started feeling unsteady on my feet and began seeing two Penns standing by my side at the bar, I don’t recall him looking affected at all.

He walked away, leaving me there until Lenley and the guys came to the bar.

Speaking of Lenley, I hear a faint knock and her voice as she lets someone into the hotel suite.

A few moments later, she opens the bathroom door. “Peyton?” she says, checking me out, and I can only imagine how I must look. If it’s half as bad as I feel, I’m not surprised when she doesn’t come closer, staying by the doorjamb. “Are you okay?”

I rub my face with my hands again, clearing my throat. “Been better, to be honest,” I admit.

She nods. “I ordered you breakfast. Room service just delivered it. I think you should eat.”

I mimic her body language, attempting to nod, but I abort my mission mid-action because the movement makes my head throb as if it’s about to explode.

Truth be told, I don’t know if I can handle any food right now, but some black coffee would probably be a good thing. “Let me brush my teeth, Snow,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Maybe I should take a quick shower too. I’ll be right with you.”

Another nod, and then she leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

I brush my teeth twice, using the complimentary mouthwash afterwards to make sure the litter box taste is completely gone.

The hot jets of the shower go a long way toward making me feel less gross, but I wash myself quickly just in case Len is waiting for me to eat breakfast.

I rub my short hair with a towel and wrap another one around my hips.

My eyes are bloodshot when I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, and my skin has a grayish, sickly hue, but I think this is as good as I can hope to look today.

I leave the bathroom, bracing myself for Channing and Jameson’s fury. It’s jumping day, and I got wasted like a complete dipshit, so whatever they have to say, I more than deserve it.

***

Lenley

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ITAKE A SIP OF MYorange juice, pleasantly surprised that it’s freshly squeezed rather than the bottled variety, when Peyton comes out of the bathroom.

How can he look so hot after getting blackout drunk last night? I mean, sure, his eyes are red, but the rest of him...

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