“Taylor, wait,” he pleads.

I spin around and face him, challenging him to try and explain this.

“It’s not like that, baby.” He reaches for my hand.

I pull it back. “Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

He balls his hand into a fist. “I needed to bring another agent with me, and I needed her negotiation skills to I can secure this deal, Taylor. It’s critical for the school that I land this.”

“I know that, Colt. We’re not disputing that you need to go to London. Or even the fact that Bria is going with you. I know she works here. What I’m angry about is that you kept it from me.”

He drops his head, running his hands through his hair so it sticks up at a crazy angle in the back. “I was going to tell you tonight,” he whispers. “But you kind of distracted me.”

“That’s even worse, Colt. You were going to go through with my plan for tonight – with this hanging over us? This is a big deal for me. How can I trust you now?”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

His phone buzzes again with a new text from Bria. I realize I’m still gripping it in my hand.

You there? It says.

“Here. Your new phone.” I toss the phone at him, and leave the room.

Colt

Bria is sitting on the bottom stair in the foyer, waiting for me with her head in her hands. I share her sentiment. It’s entirely too early to be up. But we have a six o’clock flight, and need to be to the airport extra early for the international flight.

“I want to say goodbye to Taylor. Wait here for me?”

She nods, barely looking up.

I jog up the stairs to the third floor dorms and peek inside. It’s dark and silent. I stride over to Taylor’s bed and watch her sleep for a few seconds. I don’t know what she’s dreaming about, but a little line creases her forehead, like she’s worried about something, even in her sleep. I smooth it out with my thumb. She blinks her eyes open at the contact. “Hey,” I whisper down at her.

“Hi,” she murmurs. For just a second she forgets she’s mad at me, and that I’m leaving today and she grins up at me, sleepily, happy. I can see the exact moment it dawns on her. Her happy little smile falls and that line etches in between her brows.

“I just wanted to say goodbye.” I bend down and touch my lips to her forehead, right over the crease. “I hate leaving when you’re mad at me.”

Someone in bed next to her turns over, rousing at my voice. Taylor gestures to the hall. I wait there while she gets up and puts on her robe. Then she joins me in the hall. “You didn’t have to get up.”

She yawns. “I just didn’t want you to wake everyone up with your groveling apology.”

“If that’s what you want, you got it, baby. I am sorry, you know that, honey.”

She stays quiet. I know I won’t get out of this one easy. “You want to walk me out?”

She nods. “Sure.”

We reach the bottom of the stairs and Bria is there, slinging a bag over her shoulder. She’s in bright pink sweatpants with the word sexy printed across her behind and her thong peeks from the waistband. I flick my eyes to Taylor. She noticed it too and her eyebrows pull together in frustration. Shit.

“Bria, wait in the car for me.”

She nods and leaves us alone in the foyer.

I take Taylor in my arms, giving her a squeeze. “Please don’t be mad at me. I know I constantly fuck up, and that my past sucks, and I’m not at all good at being a boyfriend, but I want to be. Give me another chance, baby.”

She steps back from my arms, looking up and studying my face. The words hang heavily between us, charged with the early morning hour and the fact that I’m leaving with Bria. She’s quiet. I don’t know if I expected her to forgive me so easily, but the fact that she doesn’t say anything stings more than I thought it would.

Then she presses a soft kiss to my lips. “We’ll talk when you get back.”

I attempt a smile, but it feels wrong. I hate that I fucked this up. I fish my new cell phone from my pocket. “I’ll call you every day. Okay?”

She nods.

“And we can email.” She offers a small, sad smile. I stuff the phone back in my pocket. And head out after Bria, feeling like a total jackass.

Taylor

I transfer a scoop of scrambled eggs and two strips of bacon from the warming tray to my plate and follow MJ and Logan to our table.

I stab a forkful of overcooked eggs and MJ and Logan exchange a look.

“What?” I grumble around the eggs.

MJ lifts her right eyebrow, which now sports a tiny barbell. “Now that Colt’s gone, you’re going to be bitchy?”

I swallow down the bite of eggs. “No.” Then stab another forkful. I’m going to make the best of it, but my lack of sleep last night after the Bria incident and then waking up at the crack of dawn when Colt said goodbye had left me drained.

Britt hovers near our table, laughing loudly into her cell phone. “You’re just getting to bed? Damn girl.”

Clearly her friends are just as classy as she is. Britt graduated last year and is now an associate agent. Her failed attempts at seducing Colt last year mean she and I do not see eye to eye.  “Well good luck dislodging the stick from Colt’s ass.”

At the mention of his name, I lift my head. She must be talking to Bria.

Britt continues and my eyes follow her across the room. “The London Tower at sunset sounds so romantic! Aw, B, you are so lucky!”

I grip my can of Diet Coke, crinkling the aluminum in my grasp.

“Breathe, Taylor,” MJ reminds me. “You know those bitches are just doing it to get a reaction from you. Don’t play into their trap.”

I pull a deep breath into my lungs, fighting to clear my head. I know MJs right. Britt and Bria have little in the way of self-control or self-respect. They’re two years older than me, but conduct themselves like complete amateurs.

“Besides the London Tower was a prison, it’s not romantic,” MJ adds.

Britt saunters away, saying goodbye to Bria and my heart rate struggles to return to normal.

A look passes between MJ and Logan. They’re concerned about me. But I’m dead set on proving them wrong. I’m not one of those pathetic stalker girlfriends cataloging her boyfriends every move.

“So Reis has a soccer game this Friday. You guys want to come with me?”

“You mean Boyfriend Junior?” Logan laughs.

Because Reis looks so much like Colt, MJ and Logan have taken to calling him Boyfriend Junior.

“Sorry, can’t,” MJ says stirring her coffee. “I have a date Friday.”

“And I’d rather play with explosives than do the whole high school game night thing,” Logan adds.

“You guys suck.” But at least I’ll have something to do this weekend to distract myself. Reis has already has plans to spend the weekend here, staying in Colt’s room so we can hang out. He doesn’t know many people at his new school yet. Our school’s so damn small, it’ll be nice to have the company. I avoid looking over at Britt for the remainder of breakfast.

Sitting on the hard metal bleachers, I’m starting to regret agreeing to come to Reis’ game. But when his team took the field, I found myself leaning forward to try and spot him. I grinned when I picked him out of the group of guys. Number twenty-one. His build is athletic, and just like Colt he’s been graced with a robust sense of confidence.

My eyes stay glued to Reis. He’s a forward, which means he’s front and center for a lot of the action. I watch him trek up and down the field and notice the glean of sweat that dampens his hairline, and the rosy flush of his cheeks. His face is fixed with determination and he shouts commands out his teammates on the field. I still can’t get over how much he looks like Colt. Their voices even sound the same. Watching him that makes me aware of missing Colt. But thankfully watching Reis makes it easy to get lost in the game. His labored breathing and the grunts he releases when he connects with the ball are a damned near perfect distraction.