14| volleyball

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"You look fucking awful," Emma says when I stumble into the kitchen around 1 in the afternoon.

I let out a long drawn out sigh. "Gee, thanks. Not like I didn't know that."

Em rolls her eyes. "What's the matter?"

I shake my head and open the fridge, even though I'm not hungry in the slightest. "Rough night."

"What was so rough about it?" Damon asks as he enters the room with Adonis, her arms wrapped around his waist.

"Maybe he got sick of hearing your bed frame slam against the wall last night," Emma chimes in. "I know I sure did."

Adonis looks at anything but us while Damon decides to glare at her. At least I'm not the only one complaining about it now. I appreciate the validation. It's about time! Damon shifts his glare to me and I can't help but give him a shit-eating grin.

"Oh, screw both of you. As if you've never had sex while other people are home."

"You're right," I shrug. "But at least I went to a part of the house where no one was trying to sleep."

Emma nods in agreement. "He may be a hoe, but he's a hoe with standards."

I stare at Emma, mouth agape for a good few seconds before I regain my composure. "Who's side are you on?"

"The side of sleep! Now, if you excuse me, I have to go to work. Damon, invest in soundproofing your room. Hudson, get some coffee in your system, you look like a corpse." And with that, Emma gets up and struts out of the room like she owns the place.

I don't know about Damon, but I plan on taking Emma's words to heart...by brewing a pot of coffee. A giant pot of the strongest coffee I can possibly brew.

"You heading over to your girlfriend's place today or is she coming here again?"

I whip around, coffee pot half-full of water in hand. "Repeat that."

"Oh, come on," Adonis says. "The last time we saw you without a bunch of groupies surrounding you was your stint in rehab."

Ow. I know she didn't mean anything by it, but that's still a sore spot. For the past few months or so, ever since my "little" slip-up, I've been the butt of the joke, not only in the press but in my own fucking family. Everyone wants to know why I hate the playboy label, it's because it comes off the back of the worst year of my life.

"Well, you know me, always trying something new," I try to be as nonchalant as possible.

Damon scrunches up his nose. "Don't say it like that."

"Say what?"

"'Trying something new,' it sounds douchey," he says.

That's fair. I didn't intend for it to come across that way, but it did. The last thing I want is for someone to think I'm just waiting it out until I can get in her pants. That's not the case at all, it's the exact opposite. All I can do is turn back to the coffee maker and hope to God someone says something to lift this tension.

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