Page 43 of The Shake Off

“What?” she spluttered. “Penn gave it to you?”

My eyes widened as far as hers had. “No! Fuck, no. No. Beulah Holmes did. I saw the picture of you all.”

Her gaze followed my finger to where it was pointing at the fridge. “Oh. I’m surprised Beulah gave it to you.”

Now it was my turn to look at my feet.

In an act I wasn’t entirely proud of, I’d gone up to Beulah’s office and stayed there until she’d given Payton’s number to me. I’d talked and talkedand talkedabout the yips, until she couldn’t take it any longer. In the end, she’d written the number on a Post-it and tossed it at me, asking for me never to return.

“I had to promise not to bother her for anything ever again.”

“Oh, okay, phew.” She pressed a hand to her chest before she continued, “And the less Penn knows about this, the better. I can’t cope with a lecture on breaking his boy wonder. Or any subject, if I’m honest.”

I huffed a small laugh. I was well acquainted with Penn Shepherd’s lectures. “Me either.”

She stood staring at me, and I remembered why I was here in the first place, and all the nerves came flooding back. I tried to find some words, but I had nothing.

Normally when I was with a girl, I knew exactly what to do.

Charm oozed out of me, and they lapped it up with a coy little giggle while batting their lashes. But not this one. I wasn’t flirting; I wasn’t even sure I knew how to flirt with her.

If I tried, she’d probably shoot me down on that, too.

I didn’t want to smile; I didn’t throw her a wink. Nothing.

I’d been stripped of my powers. They were all gone.

This is how Superman must feel. Payton is my Kryptonite.

Whatever she was, the longer we stood here in silence, the more awkward as fuck it was getting, and if my career didn’t rest on it, I’d be running for the door.

It was like she read my mind. “Do you want a drink?”

I didn’t drink during the season, but I was about to make an exception. “Sure, waddya got?”

“Shot of tequila?” she grinned, and for the first time throughout this entire shitshow – including, and especially, the last two weeks – I found myself genuinely laughing.

As she reached behind me for the bottle, her arm brushed past me, and the scent of roses and clean linen – the same scent I’d woken up to twelve days ago – floated under my nose and lingered in the air.

I rubbed against my chest as it tightened.

Payton picked up two shot glasses, poured out the tequila, and handed me one so full it dripped onto the countertop.

“You seem uptight.”

The tequila burned all the way down to my belly. “I feel like I’m starting my first day of school.”

She looked up at me, her big brown eyes twinkling under her thick black lashes, and a sly grin crept over her face. “Maybe it is.”

I coughed out a laugh. “It’s not funny. I’m under pressure. I fucking choked this week. I’m going to ruin the entire season, and my career.”

“Are you always this dramatic?” She poured out another shot, throwing me a hefty eye roll as she did. “Actually, don’t answer. Penn is exactly the same.”

I groaned. “Can we not talk about my boss?”

“Sure.” She lifted the shot glass to her lips and knocked back the pale gold liquid. “What d’you want to talk about?”

I looked away as her pink tongue darted out and licked a stray drop from the corner of her mouth, reminding me of what else that tongue was capable of. My cock stirred again, and I couldn’t decide whether it was wrong to be attracted to someone who’d ruined my life.

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