Chapter Two
~AUGUST~
I’m back in my penthouse on the top floor of the high rise that looks out over the Tampa Bay city. I throw ice in a tumbler and fix myself a tall pour of bourbon. Sitting down in the oversized chair that Dex loved so much that he purchased one for his apartment, I stare out at the city.
I spin my phone in my hand, not sure what to do now.
Taking a long sip of the amber liquid, I hear the ice clink in the glass when I pull it from my lips.
I’m lonely. I would never tell any of the friends that I just left that.
They see me as fun-loving, “always down for a party” August. The man who can’t leave the bar alone on most nights, a female companion hanging off of my arm. But not tonight.
Instead, I’m sitting here staring out at the bustling city, contemplating how my best friend, who only moved out here two months ago, is now living with the center back from the NWSL team that I own. Curiosity of my father and toeing the family line. But it’s mine and I own it.
When Dex called me that night and told me that his life was in shambles, and that the job I always dangled in front of him could save him, I quickly agreed.
Pulled all the strings I could and brought him down here.
He’s my best friend. I’ve known him since I started at Brown.
He picked my ass up off the ground on more than one occasion, both at football and also personally.
Now, all that time I thought we could spend together has diminished considerably because he’s with Amelia.
And I’m happy for them; they are cute together.
I’ll still see him. I just wish he was here now.
Tonight was weird. Being trapped in that elevator with Hendrix.
I could tell that she was scared. There was a moment that I saw those shields that she keeps up so carefully in place go down.
I left her the end of our sophomore year at the request of my father.
He was not a fan of the goalie that I was enamored with.
I mean, I, August Cromwell, who never uses the ‘l’ word was head over heels for that girl.
But Dad said no.
Apparently, even though she was the star goalie for the University of North Carolina and from a decent family, she wasn’t good enough for me.
She was a distraction that I didn’t need.
He decided that. I lean my head back and remember the day that he came to get me.
The look on her face is burned into my memory.
I roll over to hear some clanging around in the kitchen.
I notice that Hendrix is not in bed with me.
She must be what that noise is all about.
I roll over, my naked body getting twisted in the sheets.
I find my phone on my bedside table and notice that it’s after noon.
There are ten missed calls from my father.
“What the fuck does he want?” I say out loud. I rise from the bed and head towards the noise.
I make my way down the hallway and there she is, standing in my kitchen, with her back to me.
Her long brown hair is in a bun high on her head.
She’s moving around to the music that’s playing.
Her hips are lightly swaying back and forth to the beat.
Her T-shirt sits just below her hips but rides up as she moves to reveal boy shorts that are hugging her curvy body.
This woman has an ass that never quits. I smile, leaning on the doorframe to the kitchen, watching her shake it around.
She spins slightly and spots me. Giggling, she crooks her finger in my direction. “Get that fine ass over here and dance with me.”
I chuckle. “I don’t dance,” I remind her.
s
“You do for me,” she shoots back.
She’s right, I do. For her, there’s not much I won’t do.
I walk over to her, place my hands on her hips and pull her towards me.
Her arms wind around my neck and our lips meet.
I smile into the light kisses she gives me as she tries to continue dancing while our lips are attached.
I’m not making it easier for her though; I’m pulling her body tightly against mine.
Her hips are now rubbing against my cock and making it spring to life.
“August!” I hear someone roar. I quickly recognize the angry voice as my father’s. “What is going on here?”
I pull myself away from Hendrix, head around the kitchen island and meet my father in the living room. “Hey, Dad, I didn’t realize that you were in town.”
“If you had bothered to pick up any of my phone calls, you would know that I was coming today.” His harsh brown eyes are looking past me and into the kitchen where Hendrix is standing. Thankfully, her bottom half is covered by the island. “Who is this?”
I move to stand in front of my father, as if it will save Hendrix from his inspection and wrath.
“Dad, this is Hendrix Monroe, my girlfriend,” I explain, looking back at Hendrix and grinning.
“You have a girlfriend,” he says slowly.
“Hi, Mr., Cromwell, it’s so nice to meet you,” Hendrix replies.
“No, no, son, this isn’t happening. You are here to study, play football and get an education.
I have been sending you information about the teams I’m looking at purchasing, and you’re not engaged.
You are not engaging in your future. You are too busy fooling around with her.
” He gestures angrily in Hendrix’s direction.
“Well, Dad, I was planning on looking at that today,” I promise him. “Finals just finished up and I have some more time to really look at what you sent me.”
“No, you were about to start another roll in the hay with her. And this is not what I’m paying for.
I told you that this was a party school and nothing good would come from studying at UNC.
I wanted you at Brown and now that you’ve given this a shot for two years, that is exactly what is happening! ”
I shake my head. “No, I think I’ll stay here and finish out at UNC. I like it here.”
“I’m sure you do. You have no responsibilities, no drive and no idea what you are doing to your future.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “August, I swear to god, you need to focus. I have plans for you and none of them involve dancing around in your underwear with a tart!”
“Dad, please do not speak that way about Hendrix.” I swallow and decide to just lay it all out there. “I love her.”
He laughs in my face, actually laughs, and then shakes his head. “Son, you’re a Cromwell. Of course, she’s going to love you and give you all the tail you want. She only wants you for your name.”
“She’s not like that,” I protest.
“All women are the same.” He levels me with a glare. “And you will be leaving this university and going somewhere more respectable. I will make the arrangements. Say goodbye to your girlfriend and be ready to leave by this afternoon.”
I don’t know how long my father had been talking before I notice the movement in the hallway—just the faintest shift of a shadow near the edge of the kitchen doorway. I glance over, expecting nothing.
And then I see her.
Hendrix.
Half hidden behind the wall.
Frozen.
Her eyes are wide, not with anger but with something far worse—hurt. The kind that sinks deep and quiet. Her mouth is parted like she’s forgotten how to breathe. Her shoulders are pulled tight, as if she were trying to make herself smaller, disappear into the drywall.
My stomach drops, thinking that she heard his words.
“Dad,” I straighten my shoulders, hoping that I look braver than I feel right now. “I am not doing that. I am staying here. I promise I’m focused and you have nothing to worry about.”
“August, break up with the girl, pack your shit and get ready to leave.” He turns and heads to the door.
“And if I don’t?”
My father laughs at me. “Oh, August, if you do that, you’re no longer a Cromwell and we both know you can’t survive on your own.
What are you going to do? Call up your mother and ask her to come take care of the child she abandoned?
August, be serious. Broads are a dime a dozen and there will be plenty of time for that later. ”
With that, my father turns on his heel, slams the door and leaves. My attention turns back to Hendrix. Her mouth is agape in shock. Her eyes are full of tears.
“Are you leaving?” she asks me. I study the floor for a moment but before I can respond, she yells, “You’re leaving me, aren’t you?”
“I have no choice,” I admit.
“Yes, you do. You’re twenty years old, August. You can make your own choices,” she pleads with me. “We can figure this out together.”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry, Hen. I’m so sorry.”
I head into the bathroom and close the door. I hide in there until I hear my apartment door slam.
That wasn’t the last time I saw her. I gathered up the courage to face her and say goodbye.
That exchange earned me a punch to the gut and a knee to my balls.
I took the pain and whatever memories I had of her and tried to block her out.
Sometimes it actually fucking worked. Until I saw her name as a prospect on the listing of goalies who were entering the NWSL draft.
My father didn’t even recognize her. But I did. The only woman I have ever loved.
And I did it. I drafted her and brought her to Tampa on my team. Because I had to. I had to see her again and have her around me. I knew she wouldn’t be happy to see me, but I just didn’t realize the hate would run so deep.
I drain the rest of my glass and stare out at the city.
I swear to god, I saw a glance of the woman who used to love me tonight.
It was faint and very brief, but it was there.
Plus, she still wears my necklace. I thought a few times I’d seen it around her neck.
But I could never be sure. Tonight, her V-neck T-shirt showed off the delicate silver chain.
I recognized it immediately and a little spring of hope bloomed in my chest.
I could actually get her back.
My phone chimes and I look to see who it is.
It’s a booty call looking for a little action tonight.
I stare at the phone, contemplating telling her to come on over.
But something, or should I say someone stops me.
Because for the first time since I’ve starting fucking her out of my system, I can’t do it.
It’s been almost three years and there’s no way that I would be able to prevent myself from moaning her name and pissing off the woman I was using to numb the pain.
I decide not to invite her over and continue looking out the window, wondering what Henny’s doing right now.
Especially since all the friends have coupled up.
I hope that works in my favor and maybe even tampers down some of the hate that she is feeling towards me.
And we’ll both be the odd man out at the table when our whole group is together.
It would be nice if we could be civil or have more conversations that aren’t as guarded, like we did tonight.
But for now, I’ll do what I’ve been doing and take the scraps that she lays at my feet. That and let her direct all of her anger and frustration towards me. I like to think she’s going to realize that it’s not anger she feels. It’s love. I know I do.