Fuck. It should be illegal to look this delicious in just a towel. My eyes follow one stray droplet of water as it slides from his collarbone down to his chiseled chest.
I’m almost jealous of that drop of water when it descends the defined ridges of his six-pack abs.
“Coffee?” I offer so that the heat I feel rising to my face isn’t too obvious.
“Please,” he murmurs, coming to sit right by my side rather than taking the seat opposite me.
I busy myself by pouring his coffee and then lift the silver domes that cover the plates I ordered. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got a little bit of everything,” I explain, revealing plates of American style pancakes, French crepes, waffles, and eggs Benedict. In addition to those, I ordered servings of scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, and a plate of fresh croissants.
“How many people are coming for breakfast?” Peyton smiles for the first time since he entered the room.
I shrug. “Maybe I went a little overboard, but Channing told me he’s going to finish what we don’t.”
He chuckles. “Ah, if Chan is coming to eat here, then we might not have enough. I swear that man is a bottomless pit. Speaking of Channing, where is he? And J?”
“The gear you guys need for today’s jump has to be delivered to the tower by ten. It has to be checked by security. Ken and Kyle are going to stay with it, but you guys were supposed to give everything a final check this morning. That’s where the guys are. They told me to tell you not to worry and that they would make sure your stuff was all accounted for and in working order. They’ll be here for breakfast as soon as they are done.”
He stares into his cup of coffee without making any attempt to touch it. “Shit. I’m going to have to apologize to the guys. I’m still their team captain, and I let them down.”
I don’t say anything because I agree with him.
“I bet they are furious with me. Disappointed. I know I would be if they had gotten drunk and passed out,” he bites out, closing his hands around the coffee mug as if to draw comfort from its warmth.
I don’t want to get involved in their team’s dynamic, and I also don’t want to take sides, but I have to know. “What happened last night, Peyton?”
He drags his eyes away from the black coffee in his mug to meet my gaze. “Fuck if I know,” he mutters. “Penn said he wanted to have a drink and talk to see if we could come to an understanding. I thought we’d have a beer, but he got shots from the bartender, and they kept coming.” He goes quiet, and it’s obvious that something is troubling him from the worry line in the middle of his forehead.
“Right,” I say.
Peyton takes my gloomy tone the wrong way. “I’m not trying to start any shit, Snow. I’m trying to make sense of what the fuck happened. I don’t want to think that Penn willingly set me up, but—”
I sigh, itching to grab his hand and lace my fingers through his. “But Darrius didn’t look drunk at all last night,” I conclude.
His frown deepens. “Yeah. No matter how I look at it, I think he planned to take me out of the competition.”
A couple of months ago, I would have defended Darrius no matter what. I’d have looked for a reason for his behavior that wasn’t trying to get Peyton out of the running for JeanLuc’s team and possibly tarnish his reputation even further. “I hate to say this, but you might be right. He’s poised to lose his captain spot if any of you do better than him today or at worlds. He knows he’s on shaky ground anyway because Mom hasn’t been happy with his attitude lately.”
He nods. “That motherfucker. But I let him play me like a fucking fiddle. I can’t believe I was that stupid.”
I finally take his hand. “You weren’t stupid, Peyton.”
He smiles, but it’s a self-deprecating smirk. “You’re a sweetheart, Snow, but I call it like I see it. Penn might be an asshole, but I fell into his trap like a complete dumbass.”
I smile back. “Okay, I guess that wasn’t your finest moment, but I’m proud of you for trying to rise above the bad blood between the two of you.”
He laces his fingers through mine the way I wanted to a second ago. “I just thought... I don’t know what I thought, Snow. I’ve wanted to dive with the Cove Angels since my mom died, and the only thing that got my mind off that constant grief was watching Patrick’s amazing jumps. I’m finally where I wanted to be, and I’d be lying if I said that I wouldn’t love to be captain, but I want that to go to the best man for the job, and regardless of whom they choose, I’ll have to work with Penn. So I thought he realized that too and wanted to try to make things right between us. My bad for letting him fool me.”
My heart aches at his words, because I know he’s right. I still want to hope against all hope that there’s a different explanation for Darrius’s behavior, but at this point, I seriously doubt it. “I’m sorry, Peyton. For what it’s worth, I think we should tell JeanLuc what happened. If you can’t jump today—”
“I’m jumping,” he says, letting go of my hand and raking his fingers through his damp blond hair.
“But you can’t.” The words leave my mouth in a rush. “It’s too dangerous, and you look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks.” He chuckles. “That was what I was hoping to hear from my girl.”
I ignore the way hearing him call me his girl makes my pulse quicken. “Peyton, you can’t risk injuring yourself now. Worlds are just four weeks away and I—”
I swallow, trying hard not to spill the tears that are filling my eyes. I’m terrified that he could fuck up his jump or his landing and get hurt, or worse.