Until Harry - L.A. Casey Page 0,70

whispered.

I smiled and said lightly, “I hurt myself, Kale – you did nothing wrong.”

“But I did,” he pressed. “I could have gone after you and brought you home.”

“That wouldn’t have changed a thing, and you know it.”

He frowned and stood up, moving back across the room, where he began to pack my suitcase again. He was silent for a minute or two, and then he said, “I know, but sometimes I wish it could have been that simple.”

“Me too, pup.” I swallowed. “Me too.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Seven years ago (nineteen years old)

Lane?” Lavender’s voice called through my bedroom door. “Are you alive in there?”

I groaned into my pillow as her voice wreaked havoc on my throbbing head.

“Stop screaming at me,” I rasped.

I heard Lavender’s chuckle as the door creaked open. It had been fixed years ago, but the squeaking noise never left after my father kicked the door in.

“I suppose asking how you’re feeling would be a stupid question?”

I grunted, my eyes still closed. “It’d be a really stupid question.”

I heard Lavender giggle as she crossed my room, her feet pattering across the floorboards. I momentarily wondered what she was doing, so I lazily lifted my eyelids, but I quickly squeezed both eyes shut when blinding light wreaked turmoil on my retinas.

“Bloody hell, Lav,” I whimpered, and pulling my pillow from behind my head, I plunged it over my face, coaxing my senses back into darkness.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she snickered, “you pulled one of the hottest lads I have ever seen last night, even if he is a bit weird.”

Though I didn’t forgive her morning wake-up call, I had to agree with her conclusion about last night’s escapades.

I smirked into my pillow. “He was a bit of all right, I guess.”

I chose to overlook the part about him being weird, because I couldn’t remember that much of what had happened to comment on it.

“You’re so full of it.” Lavender laughed as she climbed onto the end of my bed.

I smiled and slowly lifted my pillow from my face, wincing at the sunlight that filled my room. After a few moments of adjusting, my vision cleared and I stretched out my limbs.

“Did you wear protection?” Lavender asked, her tone very motherly.

I lifted my head and looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Don’t I always?”

She dead-panned, “Your reply makes you sound like a slut.”

I devilishly grinned. “I’ve slept with ten different lads over the last year and a half. I think that does make me a slut.”

“Hardly,” Lavender scoffed. “We both know you only get drunk and lost in the closest body because you feel rejected and hurt over Kale . . . still.”

My chest ached and my stomach lurched at the mention of his name.

“Not now, Lav,” I groaned, lying back down. “I’m too hung over for this conversation.”

“Tough,” my so-called friend chirped as she whacked both of my feet with her hands. “I’m getting fed up saying this to you, but here I go again. No matter how many people you have sex with, it will never erase your night with Kale. You can’t replace the person you want for life with the person you want for a night.”

I growled at Lavender.

“I’m nineteen and in university,” I argued. “Wasn’t it you who told me to play the field?”

“Play the field? Yes,” Lavender agreed, then narrowed her eyes. “Fuck every man in sight? No.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Give over. It’s not funny and you know it’s not,” she grumbled. “You don’t want to be that girl, do you? The woman who degrades herself with meaningless hook-ups and loses herself because she is sad?”

I hated when she got deep like this, especially when I felt like shit.

I blinked. “I’m not sad.”

“Babe,” – she frowned – “yeah, you are.”

I looked up at my ceiling and grunted, “I knew I shouldn’t have come home this weekend.”

Lavender snorted. “We go to the same university and share an apartment. You can’t escape me.”

That was the sickening truth.

We both attended the University of York and lived in a student apartment close to campus. I studied English, and Lavender studied English in Education. After I got my Bachelor of Arts degree, I wanted to be a literary editor, and Lavender wanted to teach children. Her term was like mine, three years long, and she needed a Bachelor of Education degree to take the first step towards her dream job, and I was happy to take my steps right alongside her. We were in our first year