The Girl Next Door

“Guess she’s studying abroad in London for the year.”

His lips tug down at the corners. “No shit?”

“Yup.”

“Huh.”

He says nothing more and I don’t bother asking questions. That’s the beauty of our relationship. We don’t need to sit around, whining about our feelings and crying over the girls who got away.

At the end of the day, what the hell will it change?

Not a damn thing.

Chapter Nine

Mia

August of senior year of college…

I pull my Jeep over to the curb and hit the hazards before jumping out. A burst of hot air hits me as I search the thick crowd of people flowing in and out of the airport.

The moment I see her blond head, I shout at the top of my lungs, “Alyssa!” There is so much noise and people that it takes a few minutes for her to notice me. “Over here!” I wave my arms like a crazy person to grab her attention.

A bright smile lights up her face as she drags a pile of suitcases behind her. Alyssa doesn’t understand what the concept of travelling light entails. Actually, for her, this is travelling light.

I race toward her, maneuvering around weary travelers. As soon as she’s within striking distance, I throw my arms around her, pulling her close and squeezing her tight. For a solid minute, we jump up and down with excitement.

“It’s so freaking good to see you!” Unable to contain my giddiness, I hop from one foot to the other.

“It’s good to be seen,” she laughs, embracing me again. “I missed your face!”

“I missed yours more!” Tears of joy prick my eyes. My parents bought me a plane ticket for my birthday last year and I flew over to visit during Christmas break. We had an amazing time. I met all her new friends and we visited museums and Buckingham Palace. We drank pints at the local pub and flirted with cute footballers.

Who knew that soccer players were so sexy?

My trip to England gave me a whole new appreciation for the sport.

I pull away, holding her at arm’s length, before giving her a quick once-over. “You look fantastic!” Alyssa has always been tall and muscular from years of dance, but she looks sleeker. In the shorts and T-shirt she’s wearing, her muscles appear both longer and leaner.

She grins and does a little twirl on the sidewalk. “Thanks, babe. You’re not looking so shabby yourself.”

A shrill whistle rents the air, and we both turn toward the cop loitering near a squad car. He points a finger at us. “Breakup the love fest, ladies, and move it along before I write you a ticket.”

I give him an apologetic wave before grabbing the largest suitcase and dragging it toward the Jeep. “Holy hell,” I grunt, “what do you have in here? A dead body?”

“Surprise!” she laughs, “I brought you one of those cute footballers we met.”

“Ha! I wish.” Those accents alone were enough to dampen my panties.

Every.

Damn.

Time.

Gathering my strength, I hoist the bag into my Jeep. It takes another ten minutes to jam all of her bags into the trunk and backseat. It’s like an impromptu game of Tetris. By the time we slide onto the front seats, I’m a sweaty mess and officer friendly is glaring at us.

“Too bad he had a massive stick wedged up his ass, he was kind of cute.” Alyssa blows him a kiss as we roll past and merge into traffic.

Once we hit the freeway and are heading toward campus, I reach over and squeeze Alyssa’s hand. “I know I said it before, but I’m really glad you’re back.” Junior year wasn’t the same without her. “I was kind of afraid you might become an expat.”

With a soft sigh, Alyssa leans her head against the cushion. “I had an amazing time in London, and I did consider extending my visa,” she rolls her head toward me, “but I wasn’t about to leave you here all by yourself. It’s senior year, baby! We have to spend it together!”

I flash her a grin, relieved that my bestie is home where she belongs.

Alyssa and I chatter about everything that happened during our time apart. She tells me about all the cool people she met and her dance classes. Once a month, she took amazing weekend trips and traveled all over Europe. The more she chatters, the more envious I become, wishing I’d done something like that, too. It sounds like an incredible experience.

“How did you leave things with Jack?”

Jack is the British guy Alyssa started dating a few months ago. When I visited over Christmas break, they had been just friends. He was definitely smoking hot. And that accent…

Yeah.

Alyssa huffs out a weary breath and closes her eyes. “It wasn’t serious. We both knew I’d be leaving in August, so we kept it light.”

“Smart. No broken heart to deal with on top of jetlag.”