“Morning, Libby,” I responded, trying to be nice.
“Hayley, that’s a lovely top. Is that the one that was on sale at Primark?” she asked, opening the tiny fridge and getting out a pint of milk.
“No, Top Shop, I’m afraid.” Hayley rolled her eyes behind Libby’s back.
Libby turned around and leaned against the counter. “So, it seems you’ve been dethroned as head slag, Morgan. What a relief for you.”
Hayley and I shared a look. “What are you talking about?” I asked, knowing deep down that I shouldn’t.
Libby handed me her phone. “You’re old news, love. That must be such a relief for you.”
Hayley and I looked at the screen. Libby had an article from one of the numerous online gossip rags that detailed the exploits of football players and other celebrities, mostly of the reality show variety. I could see a grainy photo obviously taken from someone’s phone, showing Lucas in a car with a woman.
“What’s all this?” Hayley asked, taking the phone and handing it back to Libby.
“More Lucas Bradley adventures it would seem. He was out with some woman at a club last night. Was seen leaving with her too. Then there was this picture.” Libby held up her phone again to show a picture of Lucas and a very pretty woman hugging at a bar. His face was pressed rather close to her breasts.
My face felt hot and my throat tight.
I guess I knew why he never came by last night.
Why should I be surprised?
Because he showed up a couple of nights ago and we had the best sex of my life? That didn’t spell monogamy. If anything, I should have predicted this.
Then why had he texted me last night saying he wanted to come over?
That was before he was offered something better, of course.
Hayley was watching me closely. “It could be like the picture of Morgan, something taken completely out of context.”
Libby laughed. “I doubt it. These football players are all the same. Using their fame and money to sleep with anyone they want.” She looked at me pointedly. “Except for Morgan, right?”
I swallowed. “Right,” I said weakly.
“Okay, well I have a report to finish this morning. Ta ladies.” Libby wiggled her fingers and left.
“All right, Morgan, you need to tell me what’s really going on,” Hayley said as soon as Libby was gone.
“What in the world are you talking about?” I asked with a forced chuckle. I pulled the tea bag out of my cup and threw it in the trash, busying my hands so I didn’t have to look at Hayley.
“When Libby showed us that picture you looked as if you swallowed a mouthful of tacks. Then there are the footie tickets Lucas Bradley gave you—”
“Phil told you that too?” I interrupted.
“Mr. Big Mouth told everyone everything.” Hayley narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on with you and the super striker? I’ll know if you’re lying. My mum always said I could read people.” Hayley took a sip of her tea, all the while watching me over the rim of her mug.
Deny, deny, deny. That’s all I could think to do.
“There’s nothing going—”
“I can tell by your face that’s a lie.”
I had no close friends to talk to. None in this time zone anyway. I couldn’t tell my mother, who I would normally talk to about everything, that I had a night of amazing sex with a famous soccer player. She would be scandalized. And disappointed.
I was desperate for a friend to confide in.
I was lonely.
