Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“She can’t stand you? How would that even be possible? You’re adorable.” Or were. Was. Is?
I keep reminding myself that I don’t actually know this person anymore. We are seven years from knowing one another. I know I sure as hell am not the same guy I was in college. So much has changed.
“She’s very businessy, if that makes sense. All work and no play. Doesn’t joke around, doesn’t join us in the break room, and never cracks a smile. If we don’t work late—like seven or eight o’clock at night—we’re not working hard enough.” Penelope sighs. “I know I’ll have to quit eventually, but there aren’t many jobs in the marketing field right now that would hire me without a degree.”
That’s right. She never graduated.
“So what are you planning to do?”
She sits up straight again. “I haven’t told anyone this yet, but I contacted State, and I can finish online in less than a year. I’m close, so I’m going to try to get my degree. Business and Mass Comm. It will be a juggling act, but if I don’t, my options are limited.”
“You can just start back up where you left off?”
She shrugs. “Pretty much. I mean, they have all my transcripts, and I was getting great grades…”
Which is why it made zero sense when she bailed.
No fucking sense at all.
There must be something she isn’t telling me.
Another guy?
Something with her family?
I have no idea who else would have been in the picture back then, but what the hell do I know? Apparently, not much.
“What’s held you back before from getting your degree?”
Her shoulders rise in another shrug, and she pulls the hair from her left shoulder, tossing it over her right. “Time, mostly. Money, of course. Motivation, time.” Penelope laughs.
“So…time?”
“Pretty much. I forgot about it for a while, but recently, with how freaking much I dislike working for my boss—I want to be the boss. I don’t think I can do that unless I get my bachelor’s.”
We look up when the servers approach, carrying our meals. The plates are set before us, and ground pepper is added to my steak, and they take our empty drink glasses before leaving us alone.
“But enough about me.” Penelope sets to cutting the scallops she’d ordered. “Tell me how your life is, barring the nightmares about yours truly.”
“You know, the usual. Practice, work out, practice, sleep, game day. It’s all the same now.”
She glances up before putting a fork of risotto in her mouth. “No time for dating?”
“No.” No time for dating and very little interest. “I’ve tried, but—no.”
I seal my lips shut, not wanting to discuss my personal life but being insatiably curious about hers. There are a hundred things I want to ask but won’t. God fucking forbid I look desperate or digging or like I still care.
Penelope broke my heart.
She was my best friend.
I still love her, but it took one helluva long time to move past the betrayal of her leaving and realize it wasn’t about me at all. She must have had demons that didn’t include me and reconciling that fact took me years.
We eat for a bit in silence, stealing glances at one another between occupying our time with eating, drinking, and responding when the servers come back and forth to check on us.
“Do you feel like seeing me will help you sleep?” Penelope asks as she dips her fork into a piece of cheesecake, licking the frosting from the fork after the bite is in her mouth.
“We’ll see tonight.”
“How will you let me know?”
Reaching into the pocket of my sport coat, I pull out an envelope. “I’ll tell you tomorrow in person how I slept.”
Her eyes flicker from me to the envelope and back again. “What are these?”
“Tickets.”
“Tickets for what?”
I roll my eyes. “The football game tomorrow. Do you have plans tomorrow? There are two tickets in there. One for you and one for a friend.”
“A friend.”
“Sure. Bring anyone you like.” Including a dude. “Your brother maybe? A girlfriend?” I throw out suggestions like “no big deal.” “Go ahead, take them. If you can make it, awesome. If not…” I shrug to let her know I’d be unaffected if she let the prime seats go to waste.
The seats are in the WAG section, where the players’ families sit, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Thank you, I’ll think about it.”
I nod. “That’s all I ask.”
“I want you on top so I can look at you.” I run my hands through her thick hair and roll, pulling her along with me. She straddles me, a furious blush crossing her cheeks.
Penelope has always been a bit shy about being naked, but that’s one of our differences I love. While I don’t mind walking around my apartment as naked as the day I was born, she’s more comfortable covering up her body with a tee shirt or actual pajamas.