Going Deep (Imperfect Love Book 2)

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Going Deep (Imperfect Love Book 2) Page 2

by Nikki Ash


  “Thank you, Henry,” I say before jumping out of the backseat like I always do before he can get out to open the car door for me. The poor guy must be in his eighties, and there’s no reason why I can’t open my own door.

  “Goodnight, Miss Winters,” he calls out as I shut the door.

  It’s a good ten-minute walk to the building I live in, so I pull up my sister’s name on my contact list and call her to see how she’s doing. She’s a sophomore at the University of Boston and lives in a sorority house, so there’s a good chance she’ll still be awake.

  “Giselle!” she shouts into the phone when she answers, and I pull it away from my ear. A few seconds later, the noise is gone. “Sorry about that. It’s the Spring Social. The entire campus is like one giant party. How are you?”

  I smile on the inside at how happy my sister sounds. She deserves to be carefree and enjoy her four years of college. I was worried when, during her senior year of high school, she came out that she’s gay. Not because I care which sex she prefers, but because I was nervous others might not be as accepting, and she would feel like an outcast at her school. I worried for nothing, though, because she’s excelling both socially and academically, and even has her first serious girlfriend.

  “I’m good,” I tell her. “How was your first week back to school?” Adrianna has just begun her spring semester.

  “So good! I got into the lab I was telling you about. It will mean taking fifteen credits instead of twelve, so I’ll have to work twice as hard, but I’m so excited.”

  “The microphysics lab you told me about?” I confirm.

  “Yes! It’s extremely rare for a sophomore to be approved to take the class, but Professor Gent said with my grades and the fact that I was the top scorer in her chemistry class, she feels I will be successful.”

  “That’s amazing, Addy. I’m so proud of you.” My words come out slow, so she can’t hear the emotion laced in them. I swallow down the lump in my throat and swipe a falling tear, reminding myself this is why I’m doing what I’m doing. For Addy. And for mom.

  “Thanks, Sis.”

  “How’s Stacey?” Stacey is Adrianna’s girlfriend. They met in one of their science classes and hit it off right away. They’ve both picked the same major, which I imagine gives them a lot to talk about.

  “She’s great. Busy with school and softball.”

  “I look forward to meeting her.”

  “Yeah, maybe over spring break.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Adrianna’s quiet for a moment, and when she does speak, her voice is soft and hesitant. “Umm…listen.” I hear the nervousness in her tone, and I’m instantly worried. “The registrar’s office sent a final notice. If I don’t have the remaining balance paid by Monday, I’m going to have to withdraw from my classes…I know I was just going crazy over the lab, but I can take less classes if you need me to. I don’t want—”

  “Stop it! I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy at work, it slipped my mind. I’m walking inside my building right now, and as soon as I get to my room, I will pull it up and pay the bill.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks, and my heart tightens in my chest. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Damn my father!

  I inhale deeply then exhale to collect myself. The last thing Adrianna needs is to hear me crying. “I am one hundred percent sure.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Hey, I’m about to get on the elevator, and I don’t want to lose you. Have fun at your party tonight, and we’ll talk soon.”

  “Okay! Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  We hang up, and before I get into the elevator, I type out a quick text to my other boss and hit send.

  Me: I need more hours.

  Bianca: Noted.

  I take the elevator up to the third and top floor of the brownstone I share with my best friend, Olivia Harper. And by share, I mean she owns it, and I pay pennies to live here with her. I met Olivia our freshman year of college in Paris. I was assigned a flat mate, and after only one week of living with her, I was almost positive I was going to kill her in her sleep. While most students spent their first week of school trying to figure out which classes they wanted to keep or drop, she spent the week sleeping her way through the entire lacrosse team…in the middle of the night…while I was trying to sleep.

  As fate would have it, Olivia and I were in the same Art History class. She mentioned being lonely in her two-bedroom flat, so I offered to move in. We lived together during all four years of college and two years of getting our master’s degrees. During which time, our friendship went from flat mates, to best friends, to sisters. She is the yin to my yang. Which is why when she said she needed to move back to New York last year, I packed up my stuff and followed her home.

  I’m quiet as I open the door, unsure of who’s here and not wanting to wake anyone up if they’re sleeping. But when I walk inside, I see Olivia is sitting on the couch watching television with her sweet baby boy in her arms. He’s drinking a cup of juice, but when he hears the door creak open, his head pops up, and he grants me the most adorable toothy grin.

  “Hey, how was your night?” She pauses whatever she’s watching to give me her full attention.

  “Good.” My answer is too vague for her liking, and she frowns.

  “Were you on a date or working late?” Knowing she won’t stop until I give her the information she wants, I sit down next to her and put my arms out for Reed. He drops his cup and climbs into my lap. I give him an extra tight hug, inhaling his baby scent, and he giggles.

  “Hey there, my little love muffin. Did you miss me?” I coo. Reed plants a big, wet kiss on my cheek, and my heart soars. “I missed you too.” He scoots out of my lap and slides down the couch and onto the ground, toddling over to where some of his toys are. I watch him for a second before I realize Olivia is still waiting for me to answer her question.

  “I was on a date.”

  “With who?”

  “Just some guy.”

  “What’s his name?” she presses.

  “Paul.” I give her a look that says I don’t want to discuss him, but she ignores it.

  “That’s a nice name. Is it serious?”

  “Not really. Where’s Nick?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject. Olivia grins at the mention of her baby daddy-slash-fiancé, momentarily forgetting about my date.

  “Jacksonville. They’ve made it to the playoffs. We’re flying out Saturday for the game.” Nick Shaw is the starting quarterback of the New York Brewers. While he has his own place in the Lower East Side, he’s more often than not wherever Olivia and Reed are.

  “That’s awesome!”

  “They might be Super bowl champs for the second year in a row.” Olivia beams. “How’s work going? Anything new on the big account you’ve been working on?” she asks.

  “Actually, yes!” I get excited thinking about the email I read earlier. “The client loved all of my suggestions, and we’re meeting tomorrow morning to discuss moving forward.”

  “That’s fabulous! One day you will be the most sought after interior designer on the East Coast, and I’ll get to say I’m your best friend.” She grins, and my heart swells at the way my best friend always sees the best in me. She has no doubt in her mind that one day I will achieve my goals and dreams. If only I was as optimistic as she is.

  “Now, let’s talk about your birthday.” She claps her hands together in excitement.

  I groan. “Livi, c’mon! Can’t we just pretend I’m not getting any older and forget my birthday altogether?”

  “Nope and nope! I know you’re crazy busy these days between work and making up for all the years you haven’t dated…” She gives me the stink-eye, telling me she isn’t happy with my lack of details. “So, I’m calling dibs on you next Friday night. Birthday dinner followed by a night out. Corrine and my dad are watching Reed.”

  When I open my mouth to argue, she shoots me a rare glare
that has me cringing slightly. She’s not going to accept any excuse I try to give her, so I don’t bother. I’ll just need to let Bianca know I can’t work next Friday, which sucks since I literally just asked her for more hours—and more importantly, I need them.

  “Okay, Friday.” I nod with a smile, and Olivia squeals in excitement.

  “Yay! We’re going to have so much fun!” Her phone goes off, and when she checks to see who it is, her smile widens. “Reed, Daddy is calling. Come say hi.” She hits accept and Nick’s face appears on the screen.

  “Hey buddy,” he says as Reed crawls over to the couch to see his dad on the other end of the line.

  Figuring Olivia will be busy on the phone for a good while, and wanting to give her some privacy, I sneak away into my room. After taking a long hot shower and getting dressed into my comfy pajamas, I open my laptop and pull up my bank account information. Then I open another window and log into Adrianna’s school site. It’s going to be tight, but if Bianca can give me some additional hours, I think I can swing it without going into the negatives. Not that I have a choice, since the alternative is my sister not taking all the classes she’s signed up for—and that’s definitely not an option.

  I click on her semester bill and type in my credit card information then hit submit. I refresh my bank site and the balance drops from five figures to four. I type another text to Bianca with an apology that I can’t work next Friday night then remind her I can work any other day.

  Closing my laptop, I turn my light off and crawl into bed. Then I remember I never called my mom tonight. Damn it. I look over at the clock and see it’s too late now. I’ll just get up a few minutes earlier tomorrow and call her before I get ready for work.

  Two

  Killian

  “Wing T 69 bottleneck right!” Nick yells, announcing the next play we’re going to run through. During any given practice, we’ll go through dozens of different plays. With our team making it to the playoffs for the second year in a row, all eyes are on us—many wanting us to succeed, but a lot wanting us to fail. When you become the Champions after not even making it to the playoffs in over a decade, it’s a given everyone will be ridiculing every move your team makes, questioning if you can do it again, or if it was just a one-time deal. I’ve been with the New York Brewers since I was drafted my senior year in college, and after finally earning a ring, I can tell you, one isn’t enough. Especially when my best friend Nick has four of those damn things—three from the team he previously played for, and one from last year when we won during our first season of playing together since college. The Super Bowl was almost a year ago, and I’m still high on the win and craving another one. It’s what keeps me motivated every game as we get closer to the Super Bowl once again. We won our first playoff game against Jacksonville last weekend. That’s one game down. Only three more standing in the way of us getting that ring.

  We break into formation and then the ball is hiked. Everyone scrambles to their position on the field. Nick steps into position and throws the ball right into my awaiting arms, which of course I catch, and run down the field for a touchdown.

  Coach Harper blows the whistle, and everyone congregates around him. “Good practice, everyone. You have the next two days off to rest. Practice Saturday and we play Pittsburgh Sunday. Don’t get into any trouble. I don’t need to remind you we’re only three games away from being Super Bowl champions.” Everyone cheers at his words then head into the locker room to shower and change.

  Coach Harper pats Nick on the shoulder. “See you Friday, Son.”

  Nick nods and smiles. “Yes, sir.” Coach Harper is the father of Nick’s fiancée, Olivia, and the grandfather to their son, Reed. You would think it would be awkward for Nick to be playing on the same team his future father-in-law coaches, but the truth is, Stephen Harper is more of a father to Nick than his own father is. He never gives him special treatment, but it’s clear they have a good relationship. When Nick was picked up last year, Coach spent every day helping him work out and get back into shape after his injury.

  Once I’m packed up and ready to go, I turn my cell phone back on and see a missed call from my publicist. I give her a call back. “Amber, how’s it going?”

  “Good, thanks for returning my call. I just wanted to remind you tomorrow night is the party with Bugatti to announce your endorsement deal with them. Several major investors will be there.”

  I grin at the thought of signing a deal with Bugatti. My first big purchase I made after I signed with New York was a Bugatti Veyron, my dream car. I’ve owned several others since then, but the Veyron will always be my favorite. So when my agent, Mike Miller, was approached about me signing an endorsement deal with them, it was a fucking given. It’s common for football players to endorse various items and companies such as insurance agencies, clothing lines, and different health food companies. But being named MVP of the Super Bowl last year has opened endorsement gates I never imagined possible—including getting a special edition made of my favorite car.

  Amber continues. “I’ll email you the details again, just in case you lost them.” The woman knows me way too well. I suck at remembering anything other than when to catch a ball. “Will you need a date?” she asks.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  We hang up, and as I’m grabbing my gym bag, I spot Nick walking over to me, his own bag slung over his shoulder. “Ready to go?” I ask.

  “Hell yes.” We head out of the stadium and toward my car. Because we live in the same building, we often ride together. Driving in New York sucks, which is why we only live about ten minutes from the stadium. “So listen, there’s a little get together Friday night for Giselle’s birthday. We’re going to dinner and then out afterward. Olivia knows we have curfew so we won’t be out too late. I know you and Giselle aren’t exactly friendly, but it would mean a lot to Olivia if you’d go. Giselle doesn’t have many friends.”

  “How is that my fault? Maybe if she wasn’t so unpleasant to be around, more people would like her. Then you wouldn’t need me to increase your number of guests.” I know I sound like a dick, but I’m not lying. I have no clue how Olivia and Giselle are even friends, let alone best friends. While Olivia is sweet and soft-spoken and just an all-around nice person, Giselle is the complete opposite in every way: blunt, loud, and not at all nice.

  “She’s not really that bad. You just have to get to know her. She’s like a Pitbull. She looks vicious, but once you pat her head, she’ll roll over, wag her tail, and lick you to death.” Nick shrugs.

  “You realize you just compared her to a dog, right?” When Nick’s brows furrow in confusion, I shake with laughter. “A bitch?”

  His eyes widen. “That’s not what I meant!”

  “Well, if the shoe fits…or should we say paw?” I laugh harder at my own joke. “So, who else is going?”

  “Her sister might come down, and Celeste will be there.” I start laughing all over again at the mention of Celeste.

  “What?” Nick asks.

  “I just can’t get over the fact that your current fiancée is friends with your ex-fiancée.” Nick glares, and it only has me cackling harder as I press the ignition and head out of the parking lot.

  “Bro, shut the fuck up. Celeste was barely my fiancée.” He’s right, but I still have to give him shit about it. I met Nick and Celeste our freshman year of college. Nick and I shared a dorm, and Celeste was his childhood friend who was a few years younger but always hung out with us. She was and still is a gold-digger. She might be hot as fuck, and a huge model who owns a few successful businesses, but that doesn’t change the fact that her entire goal in life is to make money and marry a guy who will give her more money. I will never understand how in the world Nick has not only remained friends with her over the years, but almost married her last year.

  “Whatever you say. Have you guys found a home yet?” Nick groans, and I laugh some more. I shouldn’t get such a kick out of this man’s life, but I can’t help it. Nic
k and Olivia are the only two people I know who are engaged to be married, can afford to purchase a new home—hell, fifteen new homes if they want to—but instead live separately.

  “I think Olivia is putting off moving because of Giselle. Since they’ve met, Olivia has always found ways to take care of Giselle without making it look like she is, and if she moves out, Giselle will be more or less homeless.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, turning onto our street. Olivia owns a beautiful brownstone in the heart of Brooklyn Heights, and there’s no way she would kick Giselle out. Those two women are closer to being sisters than best friends.

  “If Olivia moves out, Giselle will never stay living there knowing her friend is only continuing to pay the mortgage for her, and there’s no way she can afford to take over those payments.” That’s for sure. You would never know it, but Olivia’s mother, who died when she was younger, left Olivia a huge inheritance. The woman could probably afford to purchase the entire building she lives in. Giselle, on the other hand, comes from the same background as me: middle-class working family who live paycheck to paycheck.

  “I could be wrong, but I don’t think it’s normal to be married and live in separate homes,” I joke.

  “Which is probably why we still haven’t gotten married. I love how selfless Olivia is, and that she wants to put her best friend first. And I get it. Giselle moved back to New York just for Olivia. But fuck, I just want to marry her and live under one damn roof. I feel like a kid in a divorced home, bouncing back and forth between our places.”

  “Well, then Giselle is just going to have to do what everyone else does and stand on her own two capable feet.” I pull into our parking garage and turn the car off. When we get to the elevator, Nick presses the button for my floor then the one directly above for his. “I’m sure you guys will figure it out. It will suck once you do move, though. How will you come down to play Madden with me?”

  Nick laughs. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll always find time for you.” He winks.

 

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