"She cheated on me. He cheated on you. What do you say? Want to settle the score?"
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Kate Wilson, a hot-headed Dragon striker, and Rosie Connelly, an uncredited behind the scenes Sea Lion captain; witness Kate's...
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Flashbacks of my drunken shenanigans from the previous night had gotten so bad when I'd woken up that when Eduardo had text me asking if I wanted to go for a jog, I'd gotten up and ran to his house.
Every breath stung like a sharp icicle dug inside my throat and scraped all the way down into my lungs. The movement made me want to flop to the ground and die, yet it was still better than lying in bed and confronting all the ways I'd embarrassed myself at the party.
If you had to rate my kissing skills between a one and a ten, what would it be?
I cataloged every motion and contraction of my muscles; how my fingernails dug into the palm of my hand, the way my arms swung back and forth, and the sound of my sneakers thumping against the sidewalk.
We were together for a year, Kate.
I'm not . . . Kate, I'm not a bad guy.
That doesn't mean I don't care about you anymore.
I ran faster, pushing myself to the limit, hoping to block his voice from creeping into my thoughts and worsening my headache. The jazz music blasting in my earphones became a mindless buzz against my heavy breathing. The cool morning air did nothing for the swelling heat on my face. My cheeks absorbed the hues of daylight that snuck under my red hood. The hood didn't stop people from recognizing me as I struggled to keep momentum all the way to the Santiago house.
My unfitness was only one of many reasons people could judge me.
The beer pong game had been a total shitshow. Losing to my ex-boyfriend had been embarrassing. Losing to the person he cheated on me with? That stung too. Still losing after I'd bitten the bullet and teamed up with my rival, who hated my guts? That'd been plain mortifying.
Oh, but all of that had been nothing compared to the fact that I'd gotten so drunk that I'd nearly kissed said rival.
Once a cheater, always a cheater. Do you really believe that?
Dark eyes, long eyelashes, and pouting lips.
She'd looked so fucking pretty under the moonlight.
And kissable.
So kissable.
Again. Humiliating.
Drunk and horny Kate had been a mess. She'd bared zero reflection on sober and hungover me. They were two very separate people who couldn't be held accountable for the other's actions.
"Wait! You're going to leave me high and dry? Like this?!"
"More like low and wet!"
"For fuck's sake," I heaved out, face now burning from exertion and embarrassment.
