Page 8 of Unloved

“You said a curse, Sissy,” he says happily. She rolls her eyes at him but tosses a crumpled dollar onto the table with a smirk and musses his hair as we walk past them toward the back.

“He blocked you on everything and yelled at you where we work.” Sadie keeps her voice low, but her words bite.

I swallow down the lump in my throat at the memory of it, the embarrassment of his screaming and the way our cook, Luis, and his older brother, Alex, who managed the restaurant next door, had to stop him and throw him out.

“I know.” I nod. “And he apologized—but we didn’t…” I closemy eyes and rub my temples. “Tyler doesn’t want us to jump right back into being together. For now, we’re going to be friends and see if we can sort out our issues. We’re going to keep it casual.”

“Right. Casual.” Sadie rolls her eyes, but there’s a look there that’s more sympathy than annoyance. “Tyler wants you on the back burner while he goes to that stupid conference this weekend and does whatever he wants to do. But once school’s back in, he’s going to be trying to get back together with you.”

I don’t say anything. I start to lightly rub the building pressure in my chest.

Because she’s right. He does this every year, so he can go play single at the stupid pre-med conference and fool around with the same girl from Princeton who is clearly smarter and prettier and “higher class” than me—whatever that means.

Trying desperately to slow the train of thought, I spin and start to scrub the near-permanent stains beneath the lip of the espresso machine.

“Ro,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

This I hate even more. Because my best friend—one of myonlyfriends—is worried about hurting my feelings in her defense of me. She’s the one friend I’ve made in the last three years who has stayed with me, through the ups and downs, through Tyler’s behavior and my mini breakdowns.

And I know Sadie enough now to know she won’t leave.

Loyal to a fault, like me.

CHAPTER 2Freddy

I’m going to kill him.

I let out a groan of pure pain from my killer headache, only made worse by the classical music blaring through the house, currently only occupied by me and my awake-and-active-at-the-crack-of-dawn goalie, Bennett Reiner.

“Reiny,please,” I cry into my pillow, flopping onto my back and covering my entire face and ears.

As if the heavens have heard my plea, the music cuts off and I sigh, until my door abruptly opens, letting in a tall, leggy blonde in one of my shirts and nothing else. Her face is flushed, her back pressed to the now-closed door as if she’s hiding.

“Morning, Candice,” I drawl. “You wouldn’t happen to be the thing that woke the bear downstairs, huh?”

“He wasnothappy that I went down there,” she sighs, depositing two yellow sports drinks and two bottles of water onto the bed. “But worth it.”

“I’ll say.” I grab one of the bottles and drain it almost instantly, smirking at the way she seems to need the rehydration as much as I do.

Knowing she’s pleased, that she had a good time, is enough to cancel the bad mood and headache Bennett’s annoying morning routine started.

She sips lightly on the remnants of her water bottle for a moment before gathering her stuff into a little pile, slipping her own clothes back on and tossing my shirt into the obvious dirty pile in the corner of my “organized mess” of a room.

“Headed out?” I ask, not bothering to put anything on as I stand fully naked and stretch my arms out with a yawn. Her gaze tracks over my body again, hovering longer on the morning wood I’m sporting as I strut toward the small en suite bathroom.

“Unfortunately, I’ve got Panhellenic meetings all afternoon. But this was fun.”

“Fun?” I say, reaching for her waist and spinning her until I’m pressed to her again, my nose running along her jaw. The burst of her giggle feels like praise, and I want to bask in it. But it’s still not enough. “Just fun? I think I can do better than that if you stay for a little.”

Her gaze fuzzes over but she smirks, shoving away from the heat of my body and gathering her purse.

“It wasmorethan fun the first time, Freddy,” she says, blowing me a kiss. “You’re incredible. I’ll see you around?”

Biting down on the desperate response waiting to roll off my tongue, which I know will come across as pathetic, I try not to bristle too much at her departure.

Maybe if you’d done better, she’d stick around. You’re off your game.

I salute her with two fingers before heading into the bathroom to wash off the night’s activities before my preseason check-in with the full coaching staff.

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