“They’re not at capacity, and your scholarship is transferable.”
“I also won’t be needing dormitory accommodation.”
“Where will you live?” She frowns.
“I’m getting an apartment. Rent is a lot cheaper there.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Tonight. As soon as I pack up my room.”
“Has something happened, April? Can I help you in any way?”
My eyes well with tears. Please don’t be nice to me… I’ll lose my shit. “I’m fine but I do need to leave now.” I stand to finish the conversation.
“Well, don’t sign a lease until I get this approved, okay?”
“Thank you.” I give her a weak smile.
I walk across the campus to my room. The classes are on at this time so the hallways are relatively quiet. I want to be packed up and out of here by three o’clock before everyone gets home.
I put the key into my door, and Penelope’s door opens, bringing her into view.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hello.” I struggle with the key, eventually pushing the door open to walk inside.
She stands in my doorway, holding the door open. “Where have you been?”
“I stayed with a friend,” I lie.
“Word has it that you’re turning tricks.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Who told you that?”
“Apparently Brandon is heartbroken. He confided in Lara.”
I nod as I get a running picture of events. “And Lara has told everyone.”
She crosses her arms. “Yep…pretty much.”
My eyes fill with tears of shame.
“You alright?”
I press my lips together and shake my head. “I’m leaving.”
“Now?”
I nod.
She walks into my room. “I’ll help you pack.”
She begins to fold my bed linen and take things out of my wardrobe and lay them on the bed.
I stare at her for a moment.
“Well, what are you doing?” she asks. “Don’t you want to be out of here before the gossip columns go into meltdown? You know what these fuckers are like.”
I give her a lopsided smile and pull my suitcase out of my wardrobe.
It’s rare that people surprise me.
“Thanks.”
SIX YEARS LATER. . .
9
April
My phone vibrates on the table as a text comes through.
You up?
I smirk and turn my phone over so that I can’t see the screen.
Penelope holds her wine glass midway to her mouth. “Kill me now. Is that Duke?”
I sip my Margarita. “Uh-huh.”
“Are you fucking crazy?” Anna snaps.
I roll my eyes.
Penelope and Anna exchange an unimpressed look.
“If you two like him so much, you can be his booty call.” I smile against the rim of my glass.
“Um, okay.” Penelope widens her eyes as she pretends to pick up my phone and answer it.
“I wish a fuckable football player wanted to be my baby daddy.” Penny puts her hand up in the air as if she’s in class, waiting to be picked. “Hell to the yeah, I’m totally down with that.”
I smirk and see my phone vibrate, once again. I ignore it a second time and flick it on silent.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Penelope huffs in disgust.
“I tell him all the time to go find someone else.”
“You actually say that to him? Go find someone else.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And yet he calls you every night for a booty call, which you conveniently take him up on.”
I shrug. “He’s just so hot, and we're friends.”
The girls laugh.
“I don’t want a relationship.” I sip my drink. “But I’m not completely stupid.”
My phone begins to ring, and I know I have to answer it. He won’t stop calling until I do.
“I’m just going to take this. Back in a minute,” I say to the girls. “Hi,” I answer as I walk toward the front door of the bar.
“Are you ignoring my texts?”
“Of course, I am.” I push the heavy front door open and walk out onto the footpath. “Fuck, its freezing out here.” I pull my jacket closed.
“Where are you?” he asks.
“I told you, I’m out with the girls tonight.” I glance at my watch. “Why are you still awake? It’s 2:00 a.m.”
“Because I’m fucking horny, and I need my girl to come and sort me out.”
“Duke.” I smile. “There are so many things wrong with that sentence that I don’t even know where to start.”
“Just get over here, woman.”
Hmm… tempting.
Duke Montana is a gorgeous pro-footballer with more groupies than sense.
Has me on speed dial.
He’s two years younger than me, at six-foot four with a body to die for. He’s the golden boy of his sport with a tall, muscular physique. He has sandy blonde hair with big brown eyes, and not to mention insanely talented. Both in and out of the bedroom.
We met three years ago in Manchester when I was at university and he was playing for United. We were both new in town, and on a particularly rainy week we ran into each other in a launderette, of all places. We got chatting while waiting for our washing to dry. We went to dinner, he came back to my place, and we ended up having sex for the entire weekend. He was exactly what I needed at that time, and I think I was the same for him.
We’re close friends—the kind with benefits—and I think we know each other better than anyone else. But lately, things have changed.
He’s getting clingy.
He plays for Arsenal now. He recently moved to London, and he’s ruining everything. He’s given me an ultimatum more than once: either be his fulltime girlfriend or he won’t see me anymore.
I wish I could settle down and want what he wants, because he really is a special guy… but, I don’t know. I can’t even put my finger on the problem.
He demands answers, we fight, but he always calls me the next day, and we always end up sleeping together and then not talking about anything too deep.
Until two weeks later when it happens again.
I decided two weeks ago when he had his last meltdown that I’m going to wean him off me.
I really care about him, and my plan is to distance myself enough so that he has to go and meet someone else. Someone who can love him the way he deserves to be loved. I’m not her. I wish that I was.
Who knows what the future holds?
“Seriously, April. Just get over here,” he
My gaze drops to the ground beneath me as I run my toe over a join in the concrete.
“Duke.” I smile sadly. “Remember, we talked about this.”
“I know, but I need you.”
“Sweetie.” I sigh, feeling guilty.
God, I need to break it off all together. This isn’t fair to him. But he makes it damn hard when he’s so good in bed.
“I don’t care, just get over here.”
“I’m not finished with the girls. I’m going to be a while.”