Page 4 of Broken Desires

“She’s got our Ethan all twisted up,” Cole adds with his characteristic smirk, referring to this mystery girl. “Check out her friend too, Evangeline Sinclair.”

Ethan is quick with his comeback. “It’s funny… She never said her name.” There’s a hint of pride in his tone, a sharp contrast to Cole’s playful teasing.

Cole’s expression remains unchanged, but there’s an unmistakable challenge in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the game they’re both playing. Ethan has his morals, sure, but Cole? He sometimes walks a dangerous line when he wants something. The fact that he’s showing interest in a girl raises alarm bells for me.

I’m about to interject when I realize it might be better if I’m involved, even marginally. Perhaps I can offer some damage control if things go south. Sure, I might be a bit of an outsider in their world, but they are my friends. They accept me as Liam Ashford, nothing more, nothing less. And that simple fact makes all of this—the early morning banter, the underlying tensions, the unspoken bonds—worth it.

“What the fuck ever.” I sigh, resigned. “I’ll get the info, but you girls better get your asses moving and be ready to go in forty-five minutes because this favor will cost you.” I head to my room to change, knowing full well that these favors always come at a price.

As I leave them, there’s a palpable tension in the room. Ethan and Cole, each wrapped up in their own complications. And from the sound of it, Poppy Lockwood is at the center of Ethan’s.

After a refreshing shower and getting dressed, I make a quick detour to the admissions office before heading to the gym. The moment I step in, Simone’s demeanor shifts noticeably. She straightens up in her chair, her red hair cascading over one shoulder as she flashes me her most flirtatious smile.

Simone is undeniably beautiful, but that’s not the only reason I’m drawn to her. At twenty-nine, she understands the nature of our arrangement—it’s casual, fun, nothing more. I’ve always been up front about my intentions. I don’t lead women on or give them false hopes about a future that I can’t commit to. I prefer older women for this reason; they know the score and there’s no drama, no misinterpretations.

“Liam Ashford,” she purrs, her voice dripping with a sultriness that feels a bit overdone for the setting. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I lean in, playing along with a flirtatious smile. “Can’t I just come to see the most beautiful woman on campus on my way to the gym?”

She rolls her eyes, but I can tell she’s pleased, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “What do you need?” she asks, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“I need some info on a student. Poppy Lockwood,” I say, maintaining my casual tone. “She’s likely a transfer, probably a sophomore. And something on her roommate, too, a Sinclair.”

Her response catches me off guard. “Oh, you’re looking into girls now? Should I be jealous?”

Alarm bells ring in my head. I picked Simone for the lack of drama. Our mutual understanding. This comment treads dangerously close to territory I want to avoid. “Why should you be? You know it’s just fun and sex between us, right?”

“Yes, of course,” she says quickly, waving her hand dismissively, but her deepening blush tells a different story. I’m treading on thin ice here. She’s getting attached, possibly seeing more in our arrangement than what it is. “Come over tonight. I’ll have your answers then.”

“Sure, text me when you’re ready,” I say, leaving Simone’s office. It’s clear I need to end things with her tonight—she’s getting too attached. But as I head to the gym, my mind keeps returning to the girl from the café. She was different—her bright-blue eyes and bold red lips a stark contrast to anyone I’ve met here. Her goth style isn’t my usual type, yet she stirred something in me.

Shaking my head, I try to dismiss the thought. I don’t even know her name, and that’s for the best. Getting involved with someone like her is asking for trouble, the kind I’m not looking for.

I push open the gym doors, determined to focus on my workout. Physical exertion usually clears my mind, but as I start, her image—those piercing eyes, that defiant presence—lingers stubbornly in my thoughts.

As I settle into my sweats for an evening of football, Manchester City versus Liverpool, my phone interrupts the calm, signaling a text from Simone.

Simone: Got your info. Come to my place?

Knowing what Simone likely has in mind, I hesitate for a moment. There’s a part of me that considers just calling it a night, but the curiosity about the information she’s gathered nudges me out the door.

When I arrive at Simone’s, she answers the door in nothing but red lingerie, her intentions clear. I can’t deny she looks enticing, but my mind is elsewhere.

“Well, if it isn’t Silverbrook’s most eligible bachelor,” she purrs, stepping aside to let me in. “I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”

I force a chuckle, stepping into her warmly lit apartment. “Stand you up? Not my style, Simone,” I reply, offering a hint of flirtation to keep the peace.

As she closes the door, her eyes linger on me with an intensity that’s both inviting and slightly calculated. “I hope you’re here for more than just the info,” she teases, walking past me with a sway in her hips that I know is for my benefit.

I follow her to the living room, where the papers are spread out on the table. “You know I can never resist your charms,” I say, keeping the tone light, though my focus is already on the documents laid out.

She leans in close, her hand lightly brushing mine as I reach for the papers. “It took some digging to find what you wanted. There were a few Poppys admitted this year and no Lockwood though. I managed to find her with a cross-reference to one of her roommates—Evangeline Sinclair. I expect a proper thank you,” she whispers, her breath warm against my ear.

I glance at her, meeting her expectant look. “You’ll get it, Simone. You always do,” I assure her, though I’m careful to keep my tone noncommittal. My mind races through the pages, wondering about the girl who has Ethan so worked up.

“Take your time with the papers; I’m not going anywhere,” she says with a little laugh, but there’s an edge in her voice.

I quickly glance at her as she sits on the sofa, taking a suggestive pose that leaves nothing to the imagination. I know what she expects, me jumping on her and looking at the papers later. She’s beautiful enough to expect this, but I’m not in the mood, and if it weren’t for the promise I made to Ethan, I wouldn’t be here at all.

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