4-Ever Theirs: Four to Score, Book 1 by Jayne Rylon

blood through her system made it impossible to hear what they called after her. Tears poured down her cheeks as she drove away, refusing to so much as glance in the rearview mirror.
    Forward.
    She was moving ahead.
    Getting on with the rest of her life, having far more experience than she’d bargained for.

Chapter Twelve
    One month later
    Andi sat on her couch, staring at the ginormous flat screen she’d bought with her first real paycheck. Whatever show was on, she hadn’t seen a second of it. It droned, providing background noise. She hadn’t realized how damn quiet an apartment could be.
    Her financial conservatism had insisted she put enough in savings to cover next month’s rent on her bright, cheery apartment, which felt like an extravagance since it was larger than the space she’d shared with three roommates. Another chunk of change had gone toward a certified pre-owned car that didn’t leak oil. Then she’d written checks for her first student loan payments, bought groceries for a month, started a rainy day fund, and she’d still had some room to spare in her budget.
    It felt fucking weird.
    So she’d splurged on the TV. Yet, somehow, she already could tell she wouldn’t be using it much. It just wasn’t the same without the clean but battered blue couch and the three guys who had overcrowded it in her last home.
    A knock on the door startled her from her trance.
    At first she planned to ignore it. She didn’t know anyone here, so it could only be a solicitor or maybe a group of church people hoping to save her soul. When it came again, louder this time, she changed her mind. After all, she hadn’t talked to anyone outside of the fellow employees she met at her new job. They were nice enough, but they weren’t friends.
    Yes, she was turning into that person. Next she’d be making small talk in the frozen food aisle at the QuickPick so she didn’t lose her damn mind.
    It might be too late for that.
    Annoyed with herself, she marched to the door and flung it open.
    “Hey.”
    The last person she expected to see was the guy standing there. Simon.
    Well, okay, maybe the very last person she’d expect to see was Reed. He was too stubborn to cave like that. He was the only one of her three ex-roommates who hadn’t emailed her in the past month. Not that she’d responded to the other two. She didn’t know what to say and didn’t trust her fingers not to type things she shouldn’t admit. Like an addict, she’d had to quit them cold turkey.
    Withdrawal was a bitch.
    One look at Simon and she knew she’d be hooked again after a single hit.
    “What are you doing here?” She tamped down the urge to fly into his arms and smother him with a desperate mega-hug.
    “Does that mean you won’t give me a tour of your new place?” he asked. “Seems like a huge step up. I understand if you want to keep the riffraff out.”
    “Shit, sorry.” She chewed her lip as she debated whether or not it was wise. It wasn’t. But she did it anyway. “Come in.”
    He nodded and whistled softly as he took in her new surroundings.
    “Thanks,” she said with a hint pride. Her hard work had paid off.
    “Anyway, uh…this came for you today.” Simon held up a thick envelope with DO NOT BEND stamped all over it in red block letters. “I thought you might like to have your diploma. Since you missed graduation.”
    His wince made it clear that he understood how big of a sacrifice that had been for her.
    “So you hopped in your car and drove four hours to bring it to me?” Her eyes went wide as she accepted the package.
    “Yeah, well, I’m not really big on planning, you know?” He shrugged. “Didn’t have anything better to do.”
    “What’s really going on?” She noticed the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Nervous, so unlike him.
    “There’s something I want to tell you.” He swallowed hard.
    “What’s wrong?” She put her hands on his shoulders, fighting the paranoid pessimism that she’d