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A Love that Endures

Page 4

by Forrest, Bella


  “Now I’d like to take a shower,” he finished firmly.

  “And get back to studying,” Zeke said irritably, ducking out from beneath Sebastien.

  “Whoa, what? Studying?” Seb gaped. “There’s no way you’re studying with this party goin’ on!”

  Without so much as a warning, Max dropped to his knees and rammed his shoulders into David’s legs, throwing him off balance. He was caught by three sets of hands behind him, lifting him horizontally into the air. They rushed him across the hallway and barged into the heaving living room. Before David could fight his way back to the ground, he was hoisted onto a screaming crowd and surfing across a sea of hands.

  David groaned. Now he was going to have to escape this forest.

  4

  Katy

  Katy stood alone in the bathroom, stripped to her underwear, a tube of hair dye clutched in one hand.

  Cassie had left for the Wolf Club party hours ago, and Katy was taking the opportunity to touch up her blonde roots, which she’d noticed had started to show through the black growth of her hair. It was part of how she kept her identity under wraps—and she liked the feel of a fresh start.

  She massaged the last of the dye into her part, then covered her hair with a plastic cap and returned to her bedroom to let it sit. Sinking down onto her bed, her eyes wandered over to the little black dress Cassie had left on her nightstand. She’d spent at least half an hour trying on some of the new outfits they’d purchased last week and had settled on a thigh-length pink number that made Katy blush just looking at it. An even flashier choice than this little black thing here . . .

  Katy leaned over to pick the dress up and spread it out over her knees, running her fingers slowly along the light fabric. Her lips formed a thoughtful moue. Michelle’s voice rang in her mind: I’d say you were a huge prude! Katy grimaced.

  She was not a prude.

  Or maybe she was? Michelle’s comment bothered her, and she was going to prove her wrong. Maybe she would drop by the party after all. Cassie was obviously having a good time, given she’d been gone so long. It might not just be horny drunk guys there. There might be some interesting new people.

  She padded over to the mirror with the dress and slipped it on, careful not to let it touch her squishy, wrapped-up hair, then frowned at her reflection.

  Did she really have to go around looking like this, just to lose her reputation as a “prude”? Katy was taller than Cassie, and the dress barely covered Katy’s butt. There had to be a more reasonable middle ground.

  She strode to her wardrobe and pulled out a slightly longer, knee-length halter neck dress. It was sea green, which complemented her gray eyes rather nicely. The neckline was a bit . . . plungey compared to what she was used to, but she decided to give it a chance. She changed into it and returned to the mirror.

  A memory flashed through her mind: Alexei’s chocolate-brown eyes filled with laughter as he pulled her into an embrace. Ocean winds sweeping all around them, tousling his sun-kissed blond hair as they stood on the hull of a ship. She had worn a dress of almost the exact same color that evening during their Mediterranean cruise, six months after they first met.

  Katy let out a sigh and sank back down on her bed. She wished she could stop thinking about that asshole. It irritated her that, even now, she was letting him live rent-free in her brain. She doubted he was thinking of her as much, despite what he’d written in his letter. He was probably already seeing another girl. Given what she knew now of his character, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had been juggling several throughout the time that she’d dated him.

  Granted, she could understand that the whole waiting-to-sleep-together-until-marriage thing was a tough sell. It would be a deal breaker for many guys. But Alexei had known what he was getting into before they started dating. He’d known about the royal traditions of her country. She . . . or rather, her parents . . . had been plenty upfront with him about that. And he’d promised that it didn’t matter, that he didn’t care as long as they were together. That Katy was worth waiting for.

  What a load of tripe.

  She couldn’t help but think bitterly now that he probably had never planned to keep that promise. That he’d just been with her for the status, getting what he could from her while she was still enthralled with his lies. Still, at least she’d discovered his true nature sooner rather than later. It would have been even more painful if she’d found out after they’d gotten engaged or, God forbid, married.

  A chime sounded from Katy’s desk, drawing her attention to her laptop. She stood and walked over—it was an incoming video call from her parents.

  She swallowed, hesitating. She really wasn’t in the mood to talk to them now. She’d just been contemplating stopping by the Wolf Club, at least until Alexei had hijacked her thoughts and landed her back in this nasty funk. Besides, they were most likely the ones responsible for his unwelcome reappearance. Maybe she would just let it ring and catch up with them sometime tomorrow.

  But part of the deal they’d agreed to when giving her their blessing to leave was that she would always answer their calls. They would worry if she didn’t pick up . . .

  Huffing, she slumped into a chair and smacked the enter key on her keyboard.

  The dark calling screen flickered, then populated with the faces of the king and queen—mostly the queen. She was sitting much farther forward than Katy’s father, hogging over three-quarters of the screen. As the call connected, her thin red lips stretched into a broad smile, her pearly white teeth gleaming through the interwebs.

  “Katerina, dear!” she exclaimed, bringing her thin, pale hands together and leaning even closer, effectively blocking her father completely from view.

  “Hullo Mama,” Katy mumbled automatically.

  “How are you this evening, darling?” Her father’s deep voice rumbled through from the sidelines, while her mother quickly reached for something on their wide cherry table.

  “Okay, I guess,” Katy replied, holding her mood in check. “I did some baking with Cassie, and now I’m just dyeing my—”

  “Good grief.” Her mother, having just slipped a pair of glasses over her nose, adjusted them, as if to be doubly sure of what she was seeing. “What is that you’re wearing, dear?”

  Katy was certain she could not sound any more patronizing if she tried. And that was saying something, for Mrs. De Courtes.

  Katy scowled at herself. She’d half-forgotten the low-cut dress she’d changed into. “Just a new nightie,” she muttered, pink flushing her cheeks. She lunged for a cashmere shawl which was hanging from the edge of her bed and draped it around her bare shoulders and across her chest before returning within view of her parents.

  It was easier just to lie. She didn’t want this conversation to drag on longer than it had to.

  She looked back at her mother, clad in a burgundy button-up silk nightgown whose collar reached halfway up her neck, and her father, who’d managed to reclaim some of his rightful ground in front of the monitor. He wore matching nightclothes, a long-sleeved silk shirt of an identical burgundy, his light brown goatee looking freshly oiled for the night. The blush continued its path to her ears, burning hot.

  “Anyway, we’re expecting a couple of late visitors, so we probably don’t have a lot of time. We just wanted to touch base and see how you are,” Katy’s mother said, continuing to smile. “And also,” she added, her tone dropping a touch. She caught a stray strand of her blonde bob and tucked it behind her ear. “We wanted to let you know that, um . . . that we recently heard from Alexei.”

  There was a pregnant pause as Katy processed the statement, staring back at her parents’ now half-expectant, half-hesitant faces. Her irritation rippled back to the surface, clearing her mind of any remaining embarrassment.

  “Ah yes, Alexei,” she said, her voice turning almost baritone. “Did you, by any chance, give him my address here?” Her hands clutched the edge of her desk.

  Her mother sighed. “L
ook, Katy. He said he wanted to apologize. We both thought you could give him that much at least, couldn’t you?”

  “I don’t owe him anything,” Katy shot back, her grip around the table tightening to a vice. “He doesn’t deserve to be in contact with me—least of all know my address!” She growled at the back of her throat. “I can’t believe you did this. Now he knows exactly where I am!”

  “Now, now,” her father spoke, his thick brows knotting into a frown. “No need to raise your voice, young lady. He’s only sent you a letter, that’s all. If you don’t want to read it, you can always throw it away. We’re just trying to do what’s best for you. You spent three years of your life with him, after all.”

  Katy glowered at her father. As if she needed to be reminded of that. It was probably the thing that irked her the most about the whole affair. All the time she’d wasted.

  “Three of the best years of your life,” her mother interjected with a sigh, and Katy glowered harder.

  “I am aware,” Katy replied curtly.

  “It all just seems like such a terrible waste,” her mother went on. “I mean, by your age, I was married already. I know it feels like you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and of course, you do, dear. But thirty creeps up on you quickly. And then, before you know it, you’re nearing forty, and, well . . . ”

  Her voice trailed off, but she didn’t need to finish the sentence to get her meaning across to Katy loud and clear. With Alexei out of the picture, Katy now had to start the partner search again from scratch. Meeting a guy, dating, figuring out whether he was actually marriage material—the whole shebang. All of which could leave quite a limited window to produce an heir, depending on how many more boyfriends she’d have to go through to finally find the one.

  “Anyway . . . ” Her mother cleared her throat. “It’s up to you, of course. If you truly feel Alexei is a lost cause, in spite of his apologies, then we respect your choice, and I’m sure his family will too. Once you get this university business out of your system, I’m sure you’ll settle down soon enough . . . ” Her mother let her voice trail off again, leaving Katy to stew in the pressure, the kind only her mother knew how to apply.

  “Of course she will,” her father said, giving Katy a warm look that somehow managed to do anything but warm her. “Our girl is among the most eligible bachelorettes in the world. Any young man would be lucky to have her.”

  Katy could only nod slowly, her mouth feeling dry. “So,” she said after an uncomfortable pause, desperately wanting to change the subject, “I thought you might want to know that I’ve, uh, decided on my concentration. I’ve thought long and hard about it, and I’ve settled on comparative literature, linked with theater and French. It’s the only thing that truly excites me for the remainder of my time here, and I—”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Her mother practically jumped. “We’ve just received a call from Peter. We need to go downstairs. But that all sounds wonderful. I’m sure you’ve made the right choice.”

  Katy’s mouth slowly closed, her excitement fizzling out as she watched them both get up.

  “Oh, and one other thing, Katy,” her father said, leaning closer to the screen. “We’ve made sure to give the paparazzi a fake lead to follow so that you have your privacy while you’re there. I know that’s important to you.”

  Katy gave a sigh and nodded. She was grateful for that, at least. The last thing she wanted was the paparazzi discovering her location, too. Even if her parents didn’t seem to care much about her personal ambitions, they at least respected her enough to let her pursue them in peace.

  “Okay, Mama, Papa. Good night,” she murmured.

  She was about to end the call when her mother came hurrying back to the monitor, filling Katy’s screen entirely with her bony face. “And one last thing.” She paused, running a tongue over her lower lip, and Katy suddenly got the feeling that her mother’s eyes were dropping, somehow X-raying through the shawl to the revealing dress beneath. Her lips pinched together for a second, and she went on in a lower tone, “I just wanted to say that I certainly hope the other girls there aren’t becoming a bad influence on you and Cassie. I know how promiscuous those American college students can be—what with things like that Primal Streak and whatnot.”

  “Primal Scream,” Katy corrected with a croak, her cheeks once more boiling.

  “Same thing in my book,” her mother replied primly. “Just remember that virginity is a virtue, something to treasure and be proud of. It makes a woman different from her peers and far, far more desirable in the eyes of a real man.”

  Katy managed a nod, wishing her floor would just open up and swallow her whole.

  “All I’m saying is,” her mother continued agonizingly slowly, “I know how devious American college boys can be. Don’t allow any of them to lure you into sex.”

  Katy almost choked on her tongue.

  “Good night, Mama!” she burst out, smacking her keyboard and ending the call before she could stop the reflex action.

  She climbed out of the chair, ripped off her stupid green dress, and dived into bed with a groan.

  God.

  She wanted nothing more now than to spend the rest of her night beneath her pillow, trying to forget that conversation had ever happened.

  Or better still . . . She reached for the stack of books on her nightstand and slipped out a romance novel from among all the literary fiction. Grabbing a towel, she spread it out over her pillow to protect it from her hair dye, then flopped back, turned to the first page, and intensely started to read.

  How she wished real life worked like a romance novel.

  Sadly, no amount of wishing would do it. Her best shot was to forget about Alexei and move on with this whole . . . relationship thing.

  Maybe it was good that the video call had turned her off going to the party. The idea that she’d find anyone but party animals at a Wolf Club rave had probably just been wishful thinking. And she wasn’t interested in party animals. She needed to find smart, sweet men—just like the dreamy hero of this particular novel.

  And maybe, just maybe, she’d be lucky enough to actually find a real, lasting connection.

  5

  David

  David’s eardrums felt like they were going to explode. Whoever said Harvard didn’t party hard had obviously never lived there. The music was turned up to what had to be dangerous levels, and people were doing some ridiculous stunts to the resounding cheers of too many drunk college kids. A group of guys were moonwalking across the dining tables in front of him, and the chandelier was covered in bananas for some inexplicable reason.

  At least he had managed to get his feet back on the floor. As he attempted to pick a path to the exit, the feat proved to be even more difficult than he’d anticipated. In between people offering him drinks and girls grinding against him, he repeated, “Thanks but no thanks,” like a mantra until he finally reached the door and slipped out with a gasp of relief.

  He’d been separated from Zeke in the chaos and had no idea if the poor guy was still stuck back there, but he didn’t have the energy to go back and look for him. It was every man for himself around here. Sorry, mate. Hopefully they had at least given his phone back to him by now.

  Before anyone else could spot him and drag him back onto the dance floor, David darted up the stairs to the first landing, where it was, thankfully, much less crowded. As he ran toward his door at the end of the corridor, his skin itching to be rid of his sticky clothes, he caught a deep male voice emanating from a room a few feet down from his own.

  “You awake, bitch?”

  David stalled, his breath catching slightly.

  When the man repeated the question more aggressively, David couldn’t ignore it. He turned around and approached the door, which had been left slightly ajar, then quietly pushed it open. A curly-haired blonde girl lay passed out on a bed, completely unaware of the guy unzipping in front of her.

  “Hey,” David called, moving quic
kly into the room and planting a hand on the guy’s shoulder. The young man spun, and David realized he was a stranger, a guest from a different frat house. And unmistakably drunk.

  His dark eyes were bloodshot, and his breath reeked. He had trouble focusing on David as he growled, “Back off, man.” The bedraggled guy swung out a hand to swat David away, his unzipped jeans slipping farther down his waist. “Can’t anyone get any privacy around here?!”

  “Um, no,” David replied, grabbing the man’s swinging arm and using it to yank him farther back. “And she’s obviously not awake. Which means you need to back off.”

  The guy snorted. “And who are you? The police?”

  “I’d prefer if we didn’t have to bring them into this, but we certainly can.” David lunged for the bulge he’d spotted in the right pocket of the guy’s jacket and pulled out his phone. He held it up in front of the drunk man’s face and waggled it threateningly.

  The guy just guffawed and returned to the bed. “It’s locked, Superman,” he slurred. “Feel free to take it. While I take this chick . . . ”

  David knew most phones had the ability to call emergency services even when locked. But as the guy lowered himself toward the girl, David’s patience came to an end.

  He grabbed the man by the back of the neck and hauled him away from the bed. Kicking him in the knees, he brought him to the floor. The guy’s arms flailed as he tried to catch himself, but he was disoriented and landed face-first in the carpet. A moment later, David flipped him over and dealt him a solid blow to the gut.

  The man coughed and spluttered, gripping his stomach as if he were about to throw up. Given the amount of alcohol swirling through his blood at the moment, he probably was. Drunk-o let out a slew of curse words, then scrambled up and staggered toward the door, dropping his wallet in the process. David grabbed it and rummaged for an ID card . . . Frederick Morrissey. He then lobbed the wallet and the man’s phone into the hallway after him, not caring in the slightest if the latter broke.

 

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