Page 33 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

“The Myers,” I say.

“You actually live with Boston?” Aston asks.

“Yep. Why, are you also fans?” Everyone seems to idolise them, its borderline insanity.

“Not exactly... rivals would be a better word for it.” Aston seems tense.

“Looks like I came to the right place,” I say. “Pissing him off has quickly become my favourite pastime.”

A few hours pass, and time has started to blur, along with my vision, which is weird. Do they have some kind of super drugs like Marlow? When a fight in the house breaks out, Aston sends the guys to investigate to make sure his house doesn’t get trashed.

“So...” he says when I spin around to straddle him.

“So...” I repeat. “How about we make this a party of two?”

He doesn’t argue, just stands up, and I wrap my legs tight around his waist to stop from falling to the ground.

After that, everything happens so fast, my brain needs a few seconds to catch up.

I’m ripped unexpectedly from Aston and thrown over someone’s shoulder, causing me to vomit, the chunks running down the back of someone’s legs. Lights whirling mixes with the sounds of cursing, and the final thump of my body when it hits something soft tells me things have changed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” a familiar voice asks.Why is Brennan here?

“Resting my eyes so the world stops spinning.” I laugh at myself. I can be hilarious when I want to.

“Grow up, Jolie, and be serious,” he snaps.

“So sorry, Mr Maturity, I was tryin’ to have fun and forget how much of an asshole you are.” Gosh this is comfortable—it feels like I’m lying on clouds. “I’m also not sorry for puking on you, and I hope it stains.” While I always wanted to get super wasted, this feels weird; damn rich people have had the good shit all along.

“Why do you always run? People fight, but you don’t have to run anymore.”

“This wasn’t running—I wanted to get laid. It makes me feel good, and no one was around to start the bet that me and Boston made.”

Everything goes fuzzy and my eyes are too heavy to stay open. He keeps talking, but I close my eyes and drift off.

The sound of Disturbed pierces my ears and unfortunately my pillow blocks out none of it. Boston, that son of a bitch. I push off the covers and get up from the bed. Looking down, I notice I’m not wearing my own shirt and quickly jump back to face the bed, relieved to see that it’s empty. It seems I’m making a habit of waking up in other people’s clothes. I need to start being careful; I wasn’t aware that all I needed to get wasted was to take drugs and alcohol from rich kids. It’s like they water it down for the poor people.

My brain thuds against the front of my skull. Boston better be ready for a fight. What sort of crazy asshole plays this kind of music so early in the morning? I head straight for the kitchen—the main control to the sound system is on a panel just before you walk in.

I hit the power button, releasing the pressure from my brain instantly. A dull thud now replaces the stabbing pain.

“Morning, sunshine.”

I poke my head into the kitchen and see Marlow standing topless at the stove, his hair pulled up into a high man bun. Stepping into the room, I appreciate the view of his back.

“Sunshine isn’t going to work for me,” I say, taking a seat at the breakfast bar and laying my head on the cool bench.

He turns to face me, pan in hand, and tips scrambled eggs onto a plate before pushing it in my direction. “Eat. You’re going to need your strength when everyone gets back.”

“Why, do you all plan to strip me naked and pin me down again?”

He smiles. I haven’t spent much time with Marlow to appreciate how rugged and handsome he is.

“If it turns you on, I’m not opposed to seeing you naked again.” Marlow takes a seat next to me, pulling his plate of eggs closer.

“Where is everyone?”

“At the gym, I’m on Jolie watch.”

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