Page 149 of Broken Saint
“Saints for the win,” Letty teases.
“Sure. I’ll let you believe that. We all know the Chiefs are going to take it all the way this year,” Macie argues, forever loyal to her man and his team.
“When was the last time they went all the way?” I ask, more than aware of how long it’s been since the Chiefs went to the Super Bowl.
“Well, Leon specifically…” Macie teases, wiggling her brows. “Last night. For hours.” She sighs. “And hours.”
“Gotta love those Dunn boys,” Peyton agrees. “Stamina of gods.”
“Hey now,” Letty argues. “Mine is pretty legendary. And I know for a fact that Harley has no complaints.”
The next few hours pass in a blur of cocktails, laughter, and reminiscing.
As predicted, I get messages from Colt. But not long after their curfew, he wishes me a fun night with the girls, tells me that he loves me again and signs off for the night.
The girls broach the subject of my sudden move to Seattle, but I wave off any kind of serious conversation for when I’m less intoxicated.
I can’t deal with serious shit when I’ve got a whole host of vodka, tequila, whiskey, and many others rushing through my bloodstream.
We stumble toward our room sometime after midnight.
I assume that Letty and Peyton know where the guys are—this is almost a weekly occurrence for them—but none of them say anything.
For all I know, we could be next door to one of them…to Colt. Or we could be at the other end of the hotel. I figure that it’s probably for the best I don’t know, or there’d be a chance that my drunken, horny ass would be trawling the hallways for just a taste of my man.
I’m so drunk by the time we stumble into our room, I have to be helped out of my shoes before I fall head-first onto one of the double beds and instantly pass out.
“We’re going to have to wake her at some point,” is the first thing I hear when I eventually come to.
It’s said quietly, but even that is too loud.
“Shhh.”
“Ah, drunken beauty is awake,” Letty teases.
Rolling onto my stomach, I stuff my face into the pillow to try and block out the light.
“How are you feeling, El?” Peyton asks.
All of them sound way too perky considering how terrible I feel.
“Go away,” I mumble into the pillow, much to their amusement.
“No can do, Miss Myers. We’ve got to watch our men go kick ass on the field.”
I can’t lie, the thought of watching Colt play without freaking out like I did earlier in the week certainly perks me up a little.
“Is there coffee?” I ask, rolling back over.
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Macie asks, making me frown.
“Right now, I’m not sure,” I mumble.
“Here. Skinny vanilla latte, double shot,” Letty says, holding out a takeout cup.
Shuffling up the bed, I rest back against the headboard and take it from her.
“Also,” Peyton adds, “water and pills.”