Autumn Flame (Seasons #2 )

Chapter 16: Breakfast for Charity, Benefit for One

My head throbs mercilessly. I cannot tell if the pounding is coming from inside my head or outside my door. Both, I think?

I squint in the dark room. Streetlight pierces through a broken strip in the blinds, and regret hits me like the 6 train—the express one.

Ugh. Why did I have to stay up all night at DJ Blaze—Benny's place?

I should have just gone home. We went viral. We celebrated. I should've just stopped right there.

The blaring beats of trance music and clinking of glasses still echoes inside my head, along with that banging.

Argh.

I pull myself upright and stumble to the door. I trip over my shirt from last night when I enter the living room.

Preston is at his door, scowling. "Who the effin' ef is that?"

Unable to speak, I stumble to the front door and yank it open. "Olivia?" I mumble.

"The fuck?" I hear from behind me.

I glare at the girl in front of me who looks not only way more awake than she should be, but has the audacity to look annoyed at me. "What the fuck are you doing here at the ass crack of dawn?"

She smacks her cherry red lips. "Why aren't you ready?"

I stand there, swaying, while my brain slowly fills up the percentage available to process what she's saying. "Ready for wha..." I trail off. I guess I must've hit over fifty percent, because I recall making a bargain with her. "Oh, shit. That's today? That's today."

Olivia points a red nail at my face. "You have five minutes, or so help me—"

I slam the door shut.

Preston looks more alert and angrier now. "What the hell is happening?"

I run past him and dive headfirst into my bathroom. "Tell her to wait in the living room."

"Oh, no," he shakes his head. "I am not letting her in here." He lowers his voice. "She scares me."

"You have like six hundred pounds and a solid two feet on her," I reply from the shower.

"But she can hurt my feelings," he whines.

I hear the front door open and close, and then Preston's bedroom door close and lock.

He wasn't kidding.

I try not to think about the fact that the Wicked Witch of the Upper East is in my living room as I get dressed in my only clean shirt and my nice jeans. They are seriously getting way too much airtime lately.

"Why did I agree to this..." I mutter to the mirror as I run some paste through my hair. I step out into the living room in record time. A brief check of my phone tells me that—yep, Bounce is still blowing up on the socials. That is why I'm doing this.

Olivia rises from the sofa, careful not to touch anything on it. She looks visibly disturbed by our coffee table and the assortment of dirty socks and plates on it. Her expression changes when she sees me to something resembling approval.

Her town car idles on the curb, puffing white smoke into the morning air. We travel to the hotel silently.

"You look nice," I say to break up the silence.

"You too," she says politely.

I tap my thighs. "These are my good jeans."

"They're jeans," she says with a scoff. "But it'll have to do."