Page 48 of Play Maker

I slide out of bed, careful not to shake the mattress too much. Then I grab my sweats and pull on the long-sleeved tee I tossed on the ground next to her hoodie last night. I glance at it, think about how she looked in it, and force myself not to steal it before I toss it to her then walk through a fucking closet.

Before I step out, I hear aclick. She must have locked it.

I exit the room I’m supposed to, hurry down the stairs, hoping I have time to take a piss before the girls and Mrs. Brooks come in.

“Morning,” I mumble, adjusting my morning wood.

“Well, shit, that’s not a good sign.”

I step inside the bathroom and ask, “What’s not a good sign?”

“You didn’t use her bathroom, so you didn’t …?” He humps the air.

“Yesterday was exhausting.” It’s true. It was.

“Sucks, man. Better luck next time.”

* * *

The door opens with zero subtlety, laughter spilling in before I even see them.

Izzy’s voice cuts through first, with a tray in hand. “It smells like cinnamon and secrets in here.”

Skinner, still wearing to tight sweatpants and socks that don’t match, turns from the coffeemaker like he’s hosting a cooking show. “Welcome to The Stables: Silo Edition, where coffee is brewing, gossip is optional, and judgment is expected.”

Maggie follows Izzy in, cheeks pink from the cold, oversized scarf trailing behind her, and another huge tray in her hands. Behind them, Jade walks in with a tray as well—poised, perfect, and stunning even in her casual clothes.

She scans the room in that way a parent should. “Morning, Kolby, Skinner.”

“Morning, Mrs. Brooks,” I say, automatically straightening.

She gives me a once-over. “Sleep okay?”

Skinner chokes back a laugh that makes me want to tackle him.

“Like a rock,” I say.

Izzy’s already beelining for the coffee pot. “Did Lo die? Is she even awake?”

“She’s off today,” I offer and hold up her notebook with her house rules. “Her day off.” I set it down, realizing that didn’t make the list and I’ve fucked up already in less than a minute.

Jade smiles. “That’s my girl.”

Maggie pulls out a chair and drops into it like her legs are broken. “This place’s vibes are off. Like something bad already happened and now everyone’s pretending it didn’t.”

Skinner mumbles from behind his cup, “That’s just Kolby’s resting guilt face.”

“It’s climbing the hills like fog from the valley,” I joke.

“Is she upstairs?” Izzy asks, eyes way too sharp for this early.

“Sleeping,” I say, maybe a little too fast.

Maggie snorts. “Or hiding.”

“Both,” Skinner mutters.

Jade takes the foil off one pan. “The smell of bacon may wake her. Boys, eat.”

---