Page 19 of Make Me Bleed
“You’re a dick.”
“I know.” He grins brightly. “And you stink like tequila. Again, might I add. It’s like the shit is constantly leaking from your pores. Did you shower, or are you still drunk? Because if you are?—”
“Trust me, I’m painfully sober,” I mutter, running my hand through my hair and pulling it back from my face. It’s kind of dirty, but it’s too late to do anything about that now. We’re on our way to the first game of the season, and we can’t afford to lose.
I need to get my shit together.
“For now,” he adds with a grin, and I find myself nodding despite my irritation and vexation.
“For now.”
“Jesus Christ, Peris,” Gabe snaps from across the aisle, and my head jerks in his direction, causing my vision to swim and my stomach to clench. I grit my teeth and bite back the urge to vomit.
“What?” I snarl.
“You don’t even have your priorities straight. You’re hungover as fuck.”
“I can play just fine,” I retort, not even knowing if that’s true but hoping this shit passes before we get there. I really gotta stop with tequila. Nothing gives me a hangover quite like it.
Bad idea all around.
“You sure about that?” he counters, and I shrug as I drop back against the seat, knowing we’ll get to the hotel soon. It’s not too far away, but because we’re playing our rival team, we get a hotel for the night, regardless, which is nice. A little splurge of motivation—and a fucking bar that’s not going to I.D. me. A win-win.
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
“You better not fuck this up for the team, Baxter,” Jordan snaps from beside me, and I almost forgot he was sitting there. My mind reels with the surrealness of what’s going on.
“Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.” And with that, I turn toward the window and watch the interstate roll below us until we’re pulling onto the off-ramp and through the city. The hotel is huge and busy with parents and fans. People are loud with their chatter and shouting, and I can’t stand it, but I manage to push it aside as I grab my bag and make my way inside.
Room keys are distributed in a chaotic fashion, and by the time I have mine and I’m making my way to the room with Gabe as my roommate like always. The walk is quiet and awkward, something I never thought would happen between us, but everything has changed.
I’m not sure what’s even real anymore.
“What’s going on with you and Bates?” I ask as we ride in the elevator to the sixth floor.
“What do you mean?” he asks calmly. Too calm when I asked such a crazy question…
I narrow my eyes at him, brows furrowed as I stare at his face. The way his jaw is clenched and his hands are tucked into his pockets, backpack slung over one shoulder. His curls are chaotic today, but they seem more unruly than normal, like they’ve been raked through over and over.
“I mean… it seems like, I don’t know,” I huff. “You’re friendly.”
“Yes,” he says easily just as the elevator dings, and he steps from beside me and out into the hall, searching for the room. I follow him in a daze, blinking widely at him as my brain works to catch up to what he said.
I admit, it takes me far too long.
“What do you mean?”
“What?” he says distracted, eyes roaming over the number plaques.
“You’re friends with him?” I question.
“Yeah.”
“When the fuck did that happen?”
Gabe blows out a breath so strong, it dislodges a curl from his forehead. “I don’t know, Peris. Sometime this year,” he says absentmindedly. But I don’t buy it. “Here we are,” he adds, pointing to the door in front of him.
“What?” I ask, blinking a few times.
