Twenty-Eight #2
‘I third it,’ Matilda adds. She barely even taps Sienna, but the girl is so dumbfounded, she goes stumbling backwards anyway. She doesn’t even argue when Matilda plucks the keycard right out of her hand, only letting out a strangled noise right before the door slams in her face.
‘God.’ Matilda sighs happily as she skips back to the bed, smiling so brightly, it practically gives off heat. ‘That was fun.’
Insistent dinging and a chorus of groans drag me out of the fitful sleep I feel like I only just fell into.
With a groan of my own, I roll onto my back.
Slipping the pillow out from beneath my head, I blindly toss it in the vague direction of the bed my surprise roommates share.
A couple of grunts confirm I hit my target – a loud curse has me pushing upright and blinking groggily at Imani as she throws off her duvet in a flurry. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Boys,’ is all she grumbles. A flailing hand whacks Matilda on the stomach, who shoots upright with a shriek.
Through a frowning yawn, I watch as she takes one look at her friend’s phone screen and hurriedly rolls out of bed, both of them shuffling toward the door in nothing but socks and pajamas without a word of explanation.
I have one foot in a Birkenstock when they pause and look back at me. ‘I don’t think you should come.’
I fix Matilda with a grimace, the most threatening expression I can manage in my current hazy state. ‘You woke me up. Wherever you’re going, I’m coming.’
The pair exchange looks and sighs, but they don’t protest any further.
They don’t exactly wait for me either, though – they’re halfway down the hall by the time I’ve covered my pajamas with a hoodie, and they sigh again as if they were hoping to lose me.
And they sigh some more on the elevator ride up to the floor I know the guys on my team are staying on, their little huffs punctuated by the never-ending influx of text messages and the thud of Imani’s fingers tapping the screen aggressively.
‘Should I have brought the nail polish remover?’
That earns me a couple of tight laughs, but any humor is abruptly erased when the doors peel apart, and chaos greets us.
Listen, I’m not oblivious. I know away meets and secret after-hour hotel parties are kind of synonymous, never mind the fact I’ve never been invited to one.
I picture a clandestine affair, red solo cups and too many bodies rammed in one room and low lights, low music, low voices too. Y’know, surreptitious or whatever.
The very antithesis of the huddle of bodies crowding the corridor, begging for the attention of one of the real adults scattered across the floors.
My nose wrinkles as the smell of smoke wafts toward me, as I fight the urge to remind everyone in the general vicinity that we are athletes, for fuck’s sake, with a particular reliance on our respiratory system.
My eardrums thrum with the too-loud rhythm of the music spilling out of an open door.
A bunch of people spill out of it too. And my eyes narrow as they zone in on something raucous occurring at the other end of the hall, something that looks like . . .
A fight. A fucking fight. Or the beginnings of one at least. Two bodies squaring up to each other, practically forehead to forehead, four fists balled tight.
I start to laugh at the testosterone-fueled dramatics, start to turn to the girls to ask what the hell we’re doing up here, only to freeze when my sleepy brain kicks into gear and I abruptly realize that I know both of those bodies.
Pretty damn well.
I blink rapidly in the hopes my eyes are mistaken. ‘Please tell me I’m hallucinating.’
A sideways glance and matching grimaces confirm otherwise.
‘Kai said everything was fine,’ Imani starts, pausing to throw a protective elbow at the drunk buffoon who knocks into me on his stumbling quest for the elevator. ‘And then they just lost their shit.’
As if summoned by the mention of his name, Kai is suddenly bashing his hip against mine, a drink in hand and a crooked grin on his mouth. ‘This is all your fault, you know. They’re fighting over you.’
‘It’s true,’ Brendan chimes in as he appears out of fucking nowhere. ‘Ben was talking shit and Heath . . . well, he didn’t like it.’
I scoff, shaking my head and laughing some rendition of ha ha, good one, you got me.
No one laughs back. In fact, everyone looks uncharacteristically grim – a stoic Kai has my gut twisting.
With a groan and a curse, I stride down the hall.
‘Boys,’ I mimic Imani’s earlier grumble, except mine is more of a shout, more of a call to attention – still a synonym for dipshits – as I shove my way through the raucous crowd. ‘If you’re gonna kiss, get it over with. You’re fucking up my eight hours.’
At the sound of my voice, both guys bristle.
Sea-green eyes snap toward me instantly. Anger sparks in them, so fierce that I have to fight the urge to back up a step.
Ben doesn’t look at me at all. He’s too busy sneering, and he sneers a little harder when he clocks Heath’s look. He uses it to his advantage – he plants both hands on his chest and shoves. ‘Here she is. Right on fucking time.’
That oceanic gaze lingers a second longer before finding their arch fucking nemesis again. ‘Watch your tone, Pullman.’
Snorting his amusement, Ben parrots the warning in a high-pitched, childish tone. ‘You’re such a fucking pussy.’
Beyond a huffed exhale, Heath doesn’t react.
Ben’s expression pinches even more. ‘All well-behaved now your owner’s here, huh? You bring his leash, Dani?’
Heath fucking woofs.
And I can’t decide whether to strangle him for being such a dumbass instigator or . . . well, kiss him is the other fleeting instinct that comes to mind, but I check that one pretty fucking sharpish.
Hands on my hips, I look between the two boys. ‘This is a joke, right? A skit? You’re both really into improv comedy all of a sudden?’
‘Your boyfriend’s a psychopath,’ Ben spits, barking a laugh a second later. ‘Oh, sorry. Ex-boyfriend, right?’
I just about manage to stifle a flinch. ‘Shut up, Ben.’
‘We should start a club, huh, Heath? Men who survived Daniela Williams.’
There are a handful of inches between Heath and me yet I still feel him go taut as a bowstring. As a threatening noise rumbles in his chest, my fingers lock around his wrist and keep him from pouncing.
‘You’re hilarious.’ I cast Ben a brief blank look that suggests the complete opposite before returning my attention to Heath. ‘Let’s go.’