Page 113 of The Shake Off

The cork popped out; the champagne was already to my lips before it hit the wall.

Bang bang bang. “Payton?”

The rim of the bottle jarred against my mouth as I jolted from the noise. “Ouch, fuck.”

I rolled over and pushed myself to standing, kind of, anyway.

“Payton?”Bang bang bang. “Open up.”

Thankfully the wall was there to hold me up as I took a step to the door, followed by the next. One after the other, until my hand gripped around the doorknob and pushed it.

Oops, I needed to pull it.

I blinked at Ace, but I couldn’t seem to focus. I think it was just him standing there, but I wasn’t certain. There might have been two. Or three.

“Payton, are you feeling okay?”

My hand flew to my mouth to cover the hiccup, and the harsh strip light in the hallway burned my eyes as they widened.

Oh shit.

“Payton? Are you going to be…”

The word died on his lip as my body decided it no longer wanted to house everything I’d drunk over the last five hours.

Yeah, my name is Payton Lopez; the girl who broke the New York Lions starting pitcher, and subsequently fixed him.

I was also the one who’d puked on him.

TWENTY-TWO

ACE

For the first time since we started whatever it was we had started, I woke up before Payton. And let me tell you, it’s an experience.

I’d been imagining some kick-ass woman bouncing out of bed before the alarm, and making the day her bitch. But today, I think I’d been short changed, or maybe I’d struck gold. I couldn’t decide.

I looked down at the lump next to me as it started moving. An arm slowly reached out from under the comforter and eased it down to reveal Payton’s head, reminding me of a bear emerging from hibernation.

“Good morning,” I grinned at her.

Scrubbing her hand across her face, she briefly opened one eye and closed it again with a grunt. Yes, definitely a bear. A Grizzly for sure.

I reached over to the nightstand and picked up the glass of electrolytes I’d made for Payton last night. You know, after she vomited on me and passed out.

“Drink this.” I put the glass in her hand and curled her fingers around so they were gripping it properly. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“What is it?” she croaked with a wince. I wasn’t sure if it was from her throat being sore or the volume of her voice. I lowered mine, just in case.

“Electrolytes.”

She lifted her head and sniffed it carefully. Then she peered at the liquid, looking at the contents like she was convinced they might poison her, then sniffed it again. “Where did they come from?”

“I have loads of it in my bag,” I replied, trying hard to hide my amusement. I’d seen some hangovers before, but I don’t think I’d ever seen one like this. “Lucky for you, hey?”

“What do they do?”

“Help with the headache and the dehydration. Drink it. When you’re done, I have Advil for you.”

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