Page 45 of Play Maker

Axel

I woke up disoriented, feeling like someone put a jackhammer to my head and was working it full blast, drilling into my skull. Shit, I was never drinking vodka again, or at least, not that much.

I reached into my pocket for my phone, and when I pulled it out and tapped on it, I realized it was just after three in the morning. I didn't remember walking back to the dorm, but I must have if I passed out on my bed.

Only, the bed felt different. And the room was in total darkness, except for a tiny window at the far end.

Wait, that couldn’t be right.

I tapped the flashlight feature on my phone and started scanning around me. This wasn’t my bedroom. What the fuck? This wasn't any room in the dorm. Then I heard it. A snore. There was someone else in here with me.

Where was I? And who was that?

Memories of the night before came flooding back, everyone teasing me and Jace about locking us in a room until we sorted out our shit. There were more drinks, and laughter, and then…

Fuck, they didn’t. They wouldn’t. Would they?

I scanned again, doing a full 360 this time, and sure enough Jace was lying on the far side of the king-sized bed, sprawled out on his stomach, hugging a pillow. Then recognition hit me. We were in the attic in Ethan’s house. The space for extra crashers.

So, not the basement but still, did they lock us up here?

Instead of freaking out, I quietly got up and located the door. There was a switch nearby and when I flicked it on, the room flooded with bright, white light.

“What the fuck?” Jace grumbled as he sat up, his hair sticking up on end.

Holy shit, how’d we gotten up here? What did it matter, as long as we could get out.

I reached for the door handle and jiggled it. Phew. It wasn't locked.

“Don’t tell me they really—” Jace started.

“Yes, they did. Serves us right for drinking so much. But we’re in the attic, not the basement, and the door’s not locked.”

Jace sat up, stretching, his white t-shirt riding high, exposing his taut abs. I licked my lips. Fuck I was dehydrated.

“Thank God for that.”

“Grab your stuff. I’ll walk you back to the dorm,” I offered.

Wow, I was so polite. I was obviously still drunk.

I padded back to the sofa, slipped on my boots, and reached for my coat.

“You go,” Jace replied, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna raid Ethan’s fridge as payback and then go home.”

He slid off the bed and walked around it, sleep-rumpled, his tight jeans riding low on his hips. My eyes couldn’t look away from the tease of sleek skin and tight v-lines.

“Axel?”

“What?”

“Are you hungry?”

Now? I was fucking starving. Only, it had nothing to do with food.

“Um, yeah,” I finally replied. “But first, I need water. My mouth tastes like stale booze, and it feels like I’ve been chewing on sandpaper.”

Jace grimaced. “No wonder you never get laid.”

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