Page 61 of Dirty Roulette
“Where do you want them?”
“The table is fine.” I throw the strap over my head and the five pizzas with a mountain of wings lands in front of her.
“Where’s Payton?” I dip my hands into my front pockets with my thumbs hanging out.
“You wouldn’t even tell me why she was crying earlier. Why should I tell you?”
I shrug. “I wanna make sure she’s okay.”
Charlie leans against the table and cracks open a sweaty beer. “What the hell is up with you two?” She takes a sip, then throws open the pizza box.
“She needs to be the one who tells you. I promised. Now, where is she?”
“You’re a shitty brother.” Charlie lifts a gigantic slice of pizza, with the thick cheese melting off. She points a finger out the patio door. I walk across the carpet and step outside into the cool night air where it’s dark.
There’s a faint hum of jets from the hot tub filled with a group of people lounging. They drink and laugh. Stepping closer, Payton is chugging something in a red cup. Some dude with a man bun, skinnierthan a twig has his arm over her shoulder, and my heart tanks. When she sees me standing right in front of her, the smile washes off her face within seconds.
“You ordered pizza?” I feel my eyebrows lift in annoyance.
“Ryder...”
“Je t'ai trouvé.”Found you.
“Hey, that’s the guy from the party.” The man bun poser points a finger at me with a beer in hand. “Small world! You’re a delivery boy?”
“Hi, Payton...” My blood pumps into my heart and I’m not sure if I can handle her getting cozy with another guy. “Can we talk?” I’m fuming in the face, wanting to rip the guy off her.
“Hmmm...” She taps her fingers on the red cup.
“Can you get out? Now.”
Payton’s pained expression incinerates me from within. She stands up and climbs out of the hot tub in a skimpy bikini with her nipples nearly falling out, dripping wet from head to toe.
I grab a towel from a chair and toss it to her chest. She follows me into the house, crunching her hair dry with the towel before wrapping it around her body. She storms down the hallway and flips on a light switch in the bathroom. The door slams shut behind us, and I lock it.
“Why is his arm around you?” I ask.
“Oh? Explain why Brittni’s hands are wrapped around you every day at practice, and you don’t bother to push her off or do anything but let her touch you right in front of me! Then you barely text me! And you post pictures online with girls wanting to lick your dick!” She turns a heel to the door, but I step in front of her. She likes running away, she’s been like that since a kid.
“Move!” She demands.
“Stop...” I grasp her hand and pull her over to me. Then I see the ink etched into her arms. It’s swollen and red, but I stare at the dandelionsand butterflies neatly painted on her arm with it wrapped over. “You got a tattoo?”
“Don’t change the subject. I’m mad at you.”
“Well, that makes two of us then... but that’s pretty... and shouldn’t you NOT be in a hot tub and are you drinking too?”
She says nothing, but the watering in her eyes, and the red puffy cheeks stab me in the chest. “I didn’t submerge my arm... and it was lemonade. Can you please let me go?”
“Not until I know we’re fine...”
“I feel like you’ve been trying to ignore me all week.”
“I’m not trying to ignore you.” I lean against the bathroom counter, her fingertips in my hands.
“You barely notice me at practice. It’s like I don’t exist or anything.”
“You don’t want anyone to know, but you want me to pay attention to you. That’s not how things work.”
