Let Me Live

Chapter Thirty-Five

I pout at Gianna, tilting my head to the side. "Aw, is someone a little hungover this morning?" I ask innocently, batting my eyelashes.

"Fuck. You," Gianna growls, pressing her fingers to her temples and massaging slowly.

"Sorry, but I'm taken." I chuckle softly, biting into a piece of crispy bacon. "Maybe next time, you'll think before you challenge me to a yard glass, hmm?" I tease, loving the fact that Gianna is so out of her element right now.

The remaining sorority sisters that are still here most likely leaving today to go back home for Thanksgiving, all ten of us, decided to have a movie night last night. Wren got in late yesterday and decided to go straight to sleep so the rest of us were left to watch cheesy romantic comedies, a personal favorite of mine.

And with our House Mother, Mrs. Warner, being wherever she goes with her family to sacrifice children during this holiday, out of the house, the booze was flowing. Luckily we all had secret stashes stowed under our beds and in the back of closets so there was plenty to go around.

The night was going great until Gianna made a comment about her being senior, which meant she was able to hold her alcohol the best out of all of us. And I couldn't stand for that kind of disrespect against me. So she challenged me to a yard glass, which is where someone fills up two-yard-long glasses with every kind of alcohol in the vicinity including chasers.

I won. She threw up. It was glorious.

That's why she's super hungover, even after throwing up which is impressive but I'm absolutely fine.

Gianna's eyes glare into my soul making me smile wider. The shrill sound of my ringtone fills the air and I quickly pull it out, not wanting to push Satan too far to the point where she'll actually murder me.

"Morning Peeps, how's your head last night?" He greets, amusement in his voice.

I perk up. "Perfectly fine, thank you very much. Although President Gigi is feeling a little rough around the edges," I inform him, instinctively ducking as a spoon flies over my head.

He chuckles. "I've never been so proud," he jokes, "What time are you leaving for the airport?"

"Wren just has to get up and get dressed and then we'll take the Uber to the airport."

"And you're sure you don't want me to drop you off?" He asks for what must be the thousandth time. The last time I saw him, he asked me the same question barely a minute after we'd had sex.

"Nope, I'm all good, promise. Besides, your mother would kill me if you missed practice," I remind him. Thankfully, I have yet to cross paths with Mrs. Saints since that nightmare of a first impression when she tried to surprise Levi one morning. At this rate, I'm more than content to be far away from her assessing gaze.

He sighs over the line. "Fine, but I want updates. Let me know when you get to the airport, and when you board and—."

"Would you like a play-by-play of my bathroom visits too while we're at it?" I tease, satisfaction running through me when I hear him huff in annoyance.

"Whatever, I just wanted to make sure I don't see a fiery place crash over the news and have to wonder if it's yours—."

A gasp leaves my lips. "Rude, you asshole!"

"You love it," he says, his voice muffled by what must be a gust of wind. "I've got to head into my morning practice, but I'll call you once you land, okay?"

My face flushes. "Yeah," I say softly, "sounds good."

"I'll miss you," he whispers and a chill run downs my spine as warmth spreads through my chest.