Always Been You Page 4

  “April, don’t—”

  I slam my door shut, turn the engine on, open the windows and shift the car into reverse. I turn the radio up two notches to drown out the rest of whatever he’s saying.

  And it better damn well be an apology.

  “Move,” I demand sharply. He placed his hand on the roof of my car and I’m sure he much prefers it attached to his body.

  He slowly removes it. “Look, I’m sorry.”

  That’s my cue to drive away and not look back.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She has been blowing me off. And not in a good way.

  All because of fucking Johnson. I knew there was a reason that I couldn’t stand that little prick.

  I watch April’s Mustang until it turns out of the parking lot before I start the trek to my car a handful of rows over.

  This last year’s been rough worrying about whether my mom is going to be okay. Wondering whether she’ll be there to see me graduate. I should be kissing the ground that she’s in remission.

  Don’t get me wrong, I am relieved. I am grateful. It’s just that this thing with April sucks a little of the joy out of the best news of my life.

  I mean we’ve been friends for how long?

  A long fuckin’ time.

  She’s been going out with that moron for a minute and now she has to spend every spare second with him? That’s straight-up bullshit.

  In the past, our romantic relationships never interfered with our friendship. Now I’ve got to deal with shit like her not returning my calls and bailing every time we’re all supposed to hang out? And the reason her boyfriends aren’t invited is because her taste in guys suck.

  Rob, the guy she dated for two years in high school was a complete tool. Still is, from what I hear. Steve, the guy she dated last year, wasn’t right for her. Too needy. She wore the pants in that relationship. And Johnson is a piece of work. The guy’s one of those BMW-driving, country club snobs who’s way too used to getting his way. When she inevitably kicks his ass to the curb, I’m going to have to watch out for her because he’s got restraining order written all over him.

  Our friendship might take a backseat to our relationships, but no one gets booted out of the car. The last couple months I feel like I’ve been hitchhiking as April whizzes by me, her foot pressed hard on the accelerator.

  “Ridgefield.”

  I surface from my sullen thoughts to see my teammate, Cal Norris standing at the rear of a souped-up Escort. Two minutes after I met him, he’d started regaling me about his car. Gold rims and subwoofers loud enough to render a person deaf is old school and tacky.

  I tip my chin in greeting. “Wassup?”

  He studies me, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. Norris is the team’s second-string wide receiver. He’s an inch shorter than me but we’re similar in build. I’m almost positive I could take him in a fight. Let’s hope we won’t have to put it to the test.

  “Quit checking me out or I’m going to start thinking you’re interested,” I joke.

  Norris’s smirk becomes more pronounced. “Just friends, huh?”

  I stop in front of him. “What?” My tone challenges more than it asks. He’s talking about April. It’s always about April with him and me.

  He nods in the direction of the patio and his right eyebrow rises in a perfect arch of skepticism. “Runway. You said there’s nothing going on with you two.”

  Runway. I hate that fuckin’ name. It’s bad enough that’s his nickname for her, but now he has the whole team calling her that too. Never mind that she’s never stepped a foot on a runway.

  I widen my stance and drop my shoulders. “There isn’t. Not that it’s any of your business.” What the hell was Norris doing, spying on us? Obviously he must have seen the kiss.

  “Hey man, I’m not blaming you. I’d hit it every chance I could.” He’s had a massive hard-on for April since he saw her last year at one of our games.

  I grit my teeth as I try my damnedest not to react by slamming my fist into his jaw. “What’s your deal, Norris? Can’t get over the fact that she’s still turning you down?” That’s what this is. Since he found out we’d gone to high school together, he’s been nagging me to hook him up with her. For some insane reason he thought he could get me to put a good word in for him. In his dreams. Like I’d ever turn her over to some Deion Sanders wannabe and the school’s self-proclaimed Pussy Whisperer.

  What a fuckin’ ego.

  He’s been drinking the Kool-Aid about his female appeal way too long. You need a pair of hip waders to wade through all the shit that comes out of his mouth. Unless he’s talking football, no one takes him seriously. At least the guys don’t. The girls are suckers for his pretty-boy face and questionable charms.

  I get the feeling he thinks because he and April both have that mixed-race thing going, that gives him dibs on her. He needs to think again.

  Norris shrugs as if April’s constant rejection doesn’t bother him. “Well now I know why. If you’d been upfront and told me that you two had something going on from the beginning, I wouldn’t have wasted my time.”

  I let out a snort. “You’re delusional. But if it makes you feel better to think she turned you down because of me, have at it.”

  Norris throws back his head and barks out a laugh. “Oh, so I’m delusional? That’s a good one. Dude, I ain’t the one pretending I don’t want to bang her.”

  “Do yourself a favor, Norris and stay out of my business.” My voice is calm but my irritation with him is at an all-time high.

  He shrugs and smiles as if this is the funniest thing in the world. “Don’t hate me cuz I call it like I see it.”

  “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I scoff. I still have to play ball with this guy so I’m going to forget this conversation.

  “I’m just saying, all you had to be is straight with the guys. We asked you if you were doing her—if you wanted to do her—and you said no.”

  “So?”

  He stares at me, amusement and disbelief in his eyes as he throws up his hands. “Then why the fuck are you cock blocking the rest of us?”

  I shake my head. Norris must have already taken too many blows to the head. “Why in the hell would I want her going out with you or any of the guys on the team? So you can use her? Add her to your long list of fucks?”

  “Oh yeah, I get that. But it’s because you want her for yourself. Which is cool like I said. Just have the guts to say that’s why instead of the bullshit line you keep feeding us.”

  “Whatever, man.” I turn and head toward my car in the next row. This conversation is over.

  “Hey, don’t hate the player. Hate the game,” he shouts from behind me.

  Player? Game? I don’t pause or look back. Like always, Norris is talking out of his ass. Ass.

  Christ, first the fight with April and now this? What the hell is going on? It’s like the stars are aligning against me today. And they’re all circling around April.

  Alright, so kissing her hadn’t been a good idea. No it wasn’t the kissing part that had gotten me in trouble, it was when I slipped her the tongue. I got carried away. But do you blame me? She’s gorgeous. She’s sexy. She’s hot.

  I drop my head and sigh. And she’s my best friend.

  Fuck.

  I blame everything on the sex. Amazing as it was, our one-night stand has taken a toll on our friendship. At first, I tried to pretend it never happened. That didn’t work. Once you see a girl naked, once you’ve been inside her and made her come, how do things not change? So yeah, things have been a little weird. But I’d buckled down and tried to establish the old rhythm. Last year I thought we’d gotten our stride back and then I’d broken up with Allie.

  Okay, not broken up, because I didn’t consider us “in” a relationship. We’d stopped dating. I’d gone out with the guys and gotten hammered. With no DD or anyone sober enough to drive our sorry asses home, I hadn’t called my roommate Zach or our frien
d Mitch, I’d called April. She’d been at Zenith’s in fifteen minutes flat to pick us up.

  Once we’d finally gotten to my apartment, it’d been like history repeating itself. I’d come on to her and we’d started making out on the couch. She’d been naked to her waist and my hands were on the zipper of her jeans when she pushed me away.

  She’d said something about me having too much to drink and getting carried away. Then she’d admitted being lonely since she’d broken up with Steve. That had been a serious slap in the face, her words more sobering than an intravenous caffeine drip. She’d then gone on to suggest that my breakup with Allie was the reason I’d had too much to drink and come on to her.

  I hadn’t said a word, hadn’t tried to convince her otherwise. Clearly, she still wasn’t over Steve, and to tell you the truth, I didn’t want to get caught up in her again. I’d been there and done that all through middle school and part of high school. She hadn’t been interested. Luckily other girls had. Eventually I’d moved on, and I’d been able to put the most painful part of my infatuation with her behind me.

  Then there’s the whole thing with our families. If we got together and then broke up, things between our parents could get weird. I’ve seen friendships fall apart over less. And since when it comes to females, I’m more a prepare for the worst than a hope for the best kind of guy, not getting romantically involved with her had been the right thing to do.

  Yeah, that’s me, the martyr and the saint. I deserve my own holiday.

  That had been my thinking a year ago. Not sure what I think about it now. Not that it even matters. She’s dating that idiot and she’s made it clear he’s number one on her priority list.

  In my car, a dark-blue Nissan Altima, I pull out my cell and hit 9 on my speed dial. Mel picks up in the middle of the second ring.

  As usual, her greeting sounds perpetually upbeat. “Hi. I was hoping you’d call.”

  After April’s refusal and our fight, it’s nice to receive that kind of reaction from a simple phone call. “Hey, you want to do something tomorrow night?”

  “Do you even have to ask?” Her voice has a teasing breathless quality to it.

  She’ll never know she wasn’t my first choice.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I refuse to feel guilty about putting my boyfriend’s feelings first. Absolutely refuse.

  Like I told Troy, people change and life goes on yada yada.

  Shit happens.

  I’m doing what’s in my emotional best interest. Sue me if that makes me a selfish bitch. I’ve been modeling for over ten years. Believe me I’ve been called worse. I’m a big girl. I can take it.

  I leave my marketing final, relieved to put it behind me. Two down, three more to go next week. Tonight I’m taking a break from studying to go out with my extremely attentive boyfriend, and I plan to enjoy myself. I am not going to think about Troy or the fact that we haven’t spoken, texted, or seen each other since our argument yesterday.

  The delicious smell of Italian sauce greets me upon my return to the apartment I share with my best friends Olivia Montgomery and Rebecca Winters. On a Friday night, a home-cooked meal is as rare as it is welcome. I usually come home to a dark and empty apartment. Like clockwork, on Friday afternoons my roommates perform what I call the great disappearing act. My best friends are in serious—with a capital S—relationships. You know the kind that lead to engagement rings, weddings and babies. I’m thrilled for them. Really. I’m not the least bit jealous. Not a bit.

  Liv and I go back a long way. We met at an audition for a cereal commercial when we were ten. She’s super sweet, slim, two inches shorter than me and is the hot, pretty blonde in our trio. She gave up modeling soon after we met but we stayed in contact and have been friends ever since.

  At the beginning of our freshman year, Liv introduced me to Rebecca and collectively we’d just clicked. We’re the college version of the women on Sex and the City. Moving in together sophomore year is the only thing that made sense given the kind of bond we’d formed. Better than loving and really knowing one another, we get one another. And there’s nothing better than having friends who totally get you.

  The person cooking up a storm? That can only be Liv, which I know for two reasons. One, while we can all cook, Rebecca and I do it out of necessity not desire. Personally, I’d much rather bake. And two, she texted me ten minutes ago to let me know she’s already over at Scott’s and that she’ll be staying at his place for the weekend. As she does every weekend since they got back together.

  Following the distinct scent of garlic, basil, oregano and tomato sauce, I sniff my way to the kitchen, humming sounds of culinary approval. “Please tell me that’s your famous chicken parm?” I drop my purse and book bag on the stool in front of the counter that forms the peninsula, and go to my best friend’s side.

  Liv’s attention shifts from the onion she’s chopping to me as she dashes away a tear from the corner of her eye. Blinking onion-induced tears from her eyes, she flashes me a smile. “It is. But I thought you were going out for dinner with Colin tonight.”

  “I am but I’m going to be hungry tomorrow and unlike some people, I do do leftovers.” Liv belongs to that strange breed of people who don’t enjoy eating leftovers. I don’t understand it, but there it is. Weird.

  She chuckles and resumes dicing the onions, which means the sniffing and the tearing up resumes as well. Cooking shouldn’t be a tragic affair.

  “So what are you doing home tonight? Did you and Zach have a fight?” I’m teasing about the fight part. They rarely do that. But since football season ended, Liv hasn’t been home a single Friday night.

  “Very funny. Zach’s finishing his science project. I’m going to take this down to him once I’m done.” With finals ending next Wednesday, everyone’s been in crash study mode since last week.

  “Well make sure you put some away for me. Right now, I need to go change. Colin’s picking me up at eight.”

  Before I leave the kitchen, I grab a tiny slice of breaded, mozzarella-stuffed chicken and pop it in my mouth. My taste buds rejoice. “Good gawd, that’s good.”

  “So where are you guys going tonight?” Liv calls out after me.

  “Gables I think.” Gables is a nice all-American restaurant situated in the heart of downtown. The fine dining version of Spaghetti Factory. I like them because they have excellent seafood.

  “We should all go out next week sometime.”

  I leave the door to my bedroom open so we can carry on our conversation while I hunt for something to wear.

  “Who, you, me, Em and Rebecca?” I yell back as I look over the selection in my closet. Jeans aren’t appropriate for most of the places Colin likes to take me, and I’m a girl who loves her jeans. However, I also love the cute wrap dress I made in my Sewing Techniques class.

  After two years of trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, last year I finally settled on fashion design. I’ve always had a flair for it and a passion for clothes but I never seriously considered making a career of it until I attended a fashion show last year. Of course Warwick isn’t the right place for that. But I plan to graduate next year with a marketing degree and apply to FIT early next year.

  “No, all of us.” Her voice sounds much closer.

  I turn to see Liv propped up against the frame of my bedroom door. “I’m waiting for the water to boil,” she explains.

  “Good, then we won’t have to yell. So what do you think?” I hold up the dress in front of me.

  “I still can’t believe you made this.” Her eyes light up as she advances toward me, her gaze running over the lilac rayon material in admiration.

  “Coming up with the design was the hard part. Sewing it was easier.” I’ve always made things, I just never thought about making a career of it. My goal was to go into something that brings me financial stability. Something that doesn’t have the lifespan of a gnat or the capriciousness of a child—like modeling. In deciding to follow my passi
on, I think I ended up somewhere in the middle.

  Liv snorts softly. “Yeah, right. Just promise you’ll design my wedding dress for me.”

  Flattered, I let out a strangled laugh. “Hey, I’m not that good.” And a wedding dress is a serious undertaking. Zero room for errors.

  “You will be.”

  My heart warms at the conviction in her voice.

  “So you’re already thinking about you and Zach getting married?” I tease, quirking my eyebrow. I have not one iota of doubt that’s exactly where their relationship is headed, I just love to see her blush.

  Liv doesn’t disappoint. Her blush accompanies a smile that transforms her from beautiful to stunning.

  “We’ve talked about it,” she admits. “But not until we graduate.”

  “Well of course,” I reply all mock earnestness. “I guess I shouldn’t book anything for the day after graduation then?”

  Her happiness is contagious. And despite the occasional twinge of envy, I’m happy that she’s already found the man of her dreams. Really. After all, I’m young. I have plenty of time to find mine and wrestle him into submission.

  “Okay, enough about my future nuptials. Let’s get back to when you’re going to go out with us. We haven’t all gone out in ages.” A distinct whining tone attaches itself to the last word.

  I purse my lips as I try to figure out a nice way to tell her that Colin has something planned for us every weekend until he goes home for Memorial Day.

  “What about next Friday?”

  Liv looks hopeful and I can only grimace. She’s going to kill me. “I can’t, Colin is taking me to Zenith’s.”

  “O-kay, what about Saturday?”

  “We’re going to see On the Town.” When her eyes narrow, I hastily add, “He already bought the tickets, Liv.”

  “I thought me, you, Rebecca and Emily were going to see that together?” She doesn’t do anything to disguise the hurt in her voice, which is also written all over her face.