Page 44 of The Illicit Play
I mean, Wily knows I’ve got some sass. We hassle each other relentlessly, but I’m pretty sure he’d be gutted if he knew what I’d been getting up to in Chicago.
Fuck. I didn’t give myself away last night, did I?
Dammit!
Shuffling to the edge of the bed, I swing my feet over and give myself a little minute, gripping the mattress as I sway and swallow.
Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.
I’m pretty sure if I tried, there’d be nothing left in me anyway. I feel empty. Depleted. Pathetically weak.
Glancing to my right, I notice a glass of water and some Advil.
Is that for me?
It must be.
Thank you, sweet Sienna!
I’m assuming she was the one who got me changed and tucked up in bed. Why’d she give me her bed? Seriously, I’m so confused right now.
Downing the meds and forcing myself to drink theentire glass of water, I then wipe the drips off my bottom lip and slowly walk to the door.
Oh shit. I need to get my game face on before sneaking into Football Frat. I’m gonna try and make a beeline for the bathroom. I’m desperate for a shower. To wash off whatever I got up to last night.
I hate it when I can’t remember.
It’s so unnerving.
It’s happened to me a couple of times before, and the worst was when I woke up naked next to Simon and had no fucking clue what we’d gotten up to the night before. Nico and Cleo were in the bed beside us, and I had no memory of how we’d ended up in that room or where the room even was.
Some seedy motel.
Clothes were scattered all over the floor, and we were all as naked as the day we were born.
We’d obviously gotten down and dirty, but I couldn’t recall when or who I’d done it with, and… and I’d never felt so filthy in my entire life.
I tried to get back on track after that. I really did.
I pulled away from Cleo just a little and tried to focus on my studies, but I was so far behind on everything, catching up was impossible. And trying to avoid someone when you share a room—also impossible. Within a week, I was being pulled back to another party, and I had no willpower.
Shame shimmers through me, my shoulders twitching as I peek my head out the garage door and check that the coast is clear. All seems quiet as I count the cars in the driveway. Shit. Looks like everyone is home… and who does that camper van belong to?
I frown, wrapping my arms around myself as I shuffle toward the back door. I’m in bare feet, which is the stupidest idea ever because the ground is fucking freezing!
Rising to my tiptoes, I dart up the back steps and into the warmth of the house, hoping to sneak up to the bathroom, but of course luck decides to give me the finger.
The second I close the kitchen door and spin, I’m greeted with two curious sets of eyes.
Sienna and Zoey are sitting at the small kitchen table. Zoey’s in her booster chair thingy, her face smeared with syrup as she messily devours her pancakes. Sienna’s adjacent to her, smiling up at me while I bulge my eyes and try to tame my wild curls… as if she hasn’t already seen me at my worst.
Her grin grows a little bigger. “It’s okay. Wily’s in the living room talking to my parents. You’re clear.”
I keep smoothing down my hair and force my good-girl smile into place, feeling pale and shaky as I pad across the kitchen floor.
“Good morning.” Ugh, my voice sounds so croaky. “Hey, Zoey. How are you, kiddo?”
Zoey nods with a grin, holding up her breakfast. “Pancake!”
