The Good Kind of Trouble

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The room was spinning like Deacon St. Delphi was hanging upside down from a Ferris wheel. Actually, why would he be hanging upside down from a Ferris wheel? That seemed stupid as shit.

He felt stupid as shit at the moment.

Closing his eyes, he focused on the breath he was taking. In. Out. In. Out. He did that on repeat until he figured the room would've righted itself, and when he reopened his eyes, he saw that it had work.

Except he had no idea where he was.

Man, if his brother saw him now, he'd flip out. Lecture him on how Deacon needed to get his shit together. Needed to stop drinking. Needing to stop with the drugs. Needed to stop the screwing around. Focus on school. Blah. Blah. Blah.

He'd never be like Aiden though.

Deacon frowned as he turned his head to the right. There was a painting on a wall of the Olympian Twelve. All were in their white ropes, smiling down on him like they approved of his current state.

Sitting up, he groaned as he stomach tumbled like a drunken Pegasus. He shoved his hand through his hair. Blond curls fell forward, brushing his brows as he swung his feet off the bed.

A pair of black briefs that were definitely not his lay on the floor, by the nightstand. Next to a lacy red bra that also wasn't his. Huh. Looking over his shoulder, he made sure the bed he'd woken up on was indeed empty. It was. He glanced down at himself.

Shirt was on backward.

Jeans unbuttoned.

Must've been a good night.

Fixing his clothes, he stood, deciding he needed to make an exit and get back to the dorm or to the beach house before whatever went down last night caught up with him.

Or got back to Aiden.

Not like he really needed to worry about it getting back to Aiden. He was still up in New York, and Deacon had no idea what was going on. Alex and Seth had come back, and both... yeah, both weren't acting right.

Then again, Alex hadn't been acting right since Caleb died.

And Alex was totally in love with Aiden. Totally messed up considering loving Aiden would most likely end with her in servitude or dead, but he saw how Alex stared at his brother every time they were around each other. That was love. And he also saw how his brother watched Alex when he thought no one was looking.

They were each other's one and only. Shit. They had to see it. He knew Alex did, and his brother wasn't stupid. His brother had to see it too. Deacon didn't know how any of that could end well.

He really didn't want to think about that, because even though Deacon wasn't a good brother, he loved his brother and he really liked Alex. He knew where that shit would head.

Walking outside, he winced as the harsh glare of the sun reflected off the white sand. Sunglasses. He needed sunglasses stat.

Somehow, because the gods were smiling down on him still, he made it across the bridge, off Deity Island and onto the main part of the campus without lying down in the sand and calling it a day.

He passed a dozen Sentinels and Guards standing sentry. They didn't pay him any attention as he shuffled down the marble walkways, cutting across the courtyard. Rounding the corner of a high stone fence, he jerked to a abrupt stop, seconds from plowing into someone.

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