Play Me

Zaver

I shift, the blanket on top of me heavy as light shines across my face, making my head pulse.

I groan, turning over and mashing my face into a pillow. The second I catch a whif of the orange scent of the pillow, I jerk upright till I am sitting and blinking my hangover away, looking around the room.

I don't remember much, just that I got rejected by someone, and after that, I started drinking. I must have drank a lot for me to end up in a strange room. I never stay the night at a girl's house, ever. It's my one rule.

I look around the room. It is cluttered with hockey gear, a massive bag, and four sticks fill one corner, joined by a rack and shelf of trophies and metals.

I try to calm myself. I must have fallen asleep in one of the guys' rooms.  Except there is something vaguely girly about the room, and none of the guys have a weighted blanket.

"Shit, shit, shit," I mumble, leaping from the bed and rushing to get my stuff right as a door in front of me opens.

Standing in the doorway is a girl dressed only in a towel, her hair damp, rivers of water running from the tips down her chest.

"Chill, I'm not gonna kick you out," she says, walking over to a dresser as she rolls her eyes.

"You're Mara," I say stupidly, staring at her towel covered ass. When she turns around, I evert my eyes, but not before I see the glimmer in hers.

"Ding ding," she says sarcastically, pulling clothes from the dresser before dropping the towel and wiggling her perfectly round ass into a thong, then pulling a pair of jean shorts up over that, leaving me staring with my mouth open as she pulls a sports bra on, which is quickly followed by a cute tank top before turning to me.

"Did we..?" I mumble.

"No, you were too drunk," she says. "I let you use my bathroom and said you could stay over, then you crawled into my bed in just your boxers and cuddled me all night."

"Sorry," I say, shifting.

"No problem, but you might wanna get rid of that problem," she says, nodding towards my crotch and I look down only to see I am sporting a major case of morning wood.

"Shit, fuck. I'm so sorry," I say, yanking my jeans up and grabbing my shirt.

"It's not like I've never seen one," she says, and just thinking about her being with other guys has me prickling.

"Huh," I murmur, and she spins around, her eyes sharp.

"What, you think I can't get a date?" She snaps, nose wrinkling.

"You can't tell me all the guys aren't scared of you," I say, shrugging and shifting so my problem is less noticeable.

"Whatever," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "You can leave now, I take back saying I won't kick you out."

She opens the bedroom door and marches out, not even waiting for me as I rush to pull my shirt and shoes and follow her.

My head hammers as I rush down the stairs, stumbling to follow her.

I come to a dead stop as four different pairs of eyes fall to me, surveying me, puzzled.

"Who are-" one girl begins before being cut off by my very friendly bed mate.

"This is the man who crashed my bed," she says, opening the fridge and pulling out a chocolate drink in a Mason jar.

"Mara?" One of the girls says. She has fiery red hair and green eyes with just a hint of brown and even sitting down, I can tell she is tall.

"What Opal?" Mara asks, shaking the glass up and snatching a banana from the counter.

"Why don't you take an apple?" Says another girl with short brown hair.

"I hate apples, Hazel," Mara says, scowling.

"Are you going to practice?" Asks Opal, not detered by Mara's dark glare.

"I'm gonna go work out and sweat this alcohol from my body," Mara says, trying to wrench the lid of her jar open. "Maybe if you all did what I do, you wouldn't be sitting at our island with pounding headaches."

She bangs the lid against the counter, scowling. "Mutherfuckin' lid," she growls, looking like she would rather be anywhere else.

"Want help?" I ask, and the glare she sends my way could kill a damn serial killer.

"No," she says as I take two steps and snatch the jar, smirking.

"Asshole," she yells, and her fiends wince. "Give me the damn jar."

I smirk, cracking it open easily as she lunges at me. I slam the jar onto the counter and grab her, throwing her over my shoulder.  

"Put me down dickwad!" She yells and her friends scowl and Opal throws a apple at her head. It misses and hits my shoulder instead.

"Got a foul mouth, don't we?" I say smirking as she pounds my back trying to get me to release her. "Maybe I should wash it out?"

"Fucker, put me down!" She yells, pounding in my back harder.

I drop her abruptly, catching her as she stumbles, and she glares up at me, eyes narrowed, and lips pressed tight together as her friends laugh.

"Out of my damn house, dickwad," she snaps, spinning around and leaving the kitchen.