My stomach drops. “What did you do?”
“I’m going to preface this with… I’m doing this with your best interests at heart.”
“Get to the point, Andy.”
“You really should change your phone password from Dylan’s birthday. It’s very easy for anyone who knows you to guess.”
A low warning growl emits from my throat. “Andy?—”
His next words rush out so fast I’m sure I heard him wrong.
“I booked you a room at Euphoria tonight.”
“You what?” My voice echoes through the empty room.
He winces.
“I used my credit card.”
As if that’s the point here.
“You’re unbelievable,” I snap at him. “You can’t just do shit like this without telling me. How’d you even know I was a member?”
“I saw you checking the app on the bus the other week. But you’re one to talk about doing shit without telling anyone. When were you going to tellmeyou resigned?”
I drop my head into my hands, guilt settling deep in my stomach. “You’re right. I should have told you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Good question. Why didn’t I?
Andy and I have been mates since we met at Sydney University twenty-one years ago. He was there when Vanessa got pregnant, and he helped us through some of the tough times as young parents when Dylan was little. Vanessa and I moved to Beckford when I got the position here as a history professor fourteen years ago. When I took on the coaching role at the university six years ago, he made the move, taking on the role as my assistant coach while also putting his literature degree to use.
I guess over time, I’ve taken his presence in my life for granted, and I just assumed he’d be happy to step into the coach’s role. With my life unravelling over the past couple of years, he’s never judged me; he supported me throughthe divorce and keeps trying to help me move on with my life. I’ve been pretty fucking selfish.
“My life’s a bit of a mess,” I admit. “There’s so much fucking baggage I need to sort through, and I guess I thought it was time to figure it all out.”
“I get that,” he says, clapping me on the back. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”
“Sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Make it up to me by joining me at the club tonight.”
I groan. “I don’t think sex with a stranger is what I need.”
“What about sex with the naughty little devil you’ve been chatting to?”
What the fuck?My eyes snap up to meet his, my hands fisting as a renewed sense of anger and frustration bubbles inside of me.
“You read my fucking messages?”
“Woah. Hell no. I’m not that fucking stupid.” He holds his hands up in defence. “I saw her name in your DM list and sent her the request. I didn’t open the messages.”
“Sometimes I wonder why I’m friends with you.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Why would you do this?”
“If you’re going to leave town, then why not have a bit of fun before you do?”
“You’re messing with things you don’t understand.” The poor girl is probably wondering why I’m requesting a room with her when I haven’t replied to her messages after our last… interaction.
