I felt guilty.

I didn't need to feel that way, but it was still what I felt, regardless of if I was in the wrong or not.

"Hey, listen, I'm sorry about what I said to the paparazzi, I know we haven't defined what we're doing together and you probably wanted to keep this casual, I was just-"

"No, what you said was perfect, actually. I've been meaning to ask you what your expectations were with this anyways."

"You were?"

"Yeah. I mean, I just got out of a really high profile relationship and everyone was wondering who'd be the first one to move on, and you saved me from having to be the one who 'lost'."

I looked at her in an entirely different light then. She wasn't even hiding the fact that she was using me, and I found it oddly refreshing.

"So you're using me to make your ex jealous and to look like the person who 'won' the breakup right?"

I didn't ask her the question in an accusatory manner, just for clarity so she wouldn't be upset.

"No. And you're clearly using me to get over your ex. Lydia, is it?"

I stiffened at the sound of her name being dropped so casually like it was.

"How do you know about her?"

"You called out her name once when we were in the middle of...you know. After that, I googled your name and her first name and then the pieces started coming together. It's okay, you know. We live our lives in the spotlight, this doesn't have to be a real relationship. I've had the love and romance, right now I'm just looking for sex."

My lip twitched up.

"Well in that case, you read my mind."

Glad that we'd both reached the same consensus, we commenced in the business part of our 'relationship' and fell into bed, the information that I'd cried out Lydia's name as I was in bed with another girl weighing heavily on my mind.

If I'd been really trying to move on and done that I would've lost my shot in an instant.

I wondered if I would be 'getting over' Lydia for the rest of my life, the mark left on my soul from her stronger and deeper than I'd ever anticipated.

I wanted her in my arms.

I wanted her writhing underneath me, screaming for pleasure.

I wanted her running her hands up and down my back, making my muscles tremble underneath her hands.

I wanted her eyes piercing into my own as I watched her reach her peak.

I wanted her to share her pain with me, to unburden herself and let me take them on for her.

I wanted her to need me, as much as I needed her.

Fuck, I just wanted her, body and soul, in every single conceivable way.

But, that wasn't going to happen, not anymore. It was too late, and she'd made her decision. If this was another world where my job wasn't a pro football player, maybe I'd help her on her quest for vengeance, but it was too dangerous, and as much as I loved her, I couldn't destroy my entire career for her, because in doing so, I'd be destroying myself, and then Lydia wouldn't have someone to love back.

No, we were stuck in a never-ending cycle of torturing each other with our distance, at least I was...I didn't know if she loved me in the way I loved her.

We'd only really been 'together' for one night, but every stolen touch, kiss, caress...I'd committed it all to memory, and my memory was torturing me every second of the day, especially when there was a girl in her spot in my life, and I'd be dreaming about her until the day she took that rightful spot that belonged to her the second I'd accidentally crawled into bed with her the first night.

My name was being mentioned online again, but this time it was because of my previous affiliation with Emmett. The articles only mentioned that I was an 'unverified' girl in Emmett's life, and probably wasn't anyone worth noting but there was my name anyways.

I noticed a good uptick in followers on my socials, though I wasn't sure I ever wanted them anyway. Probably time to turn it all private.

It was Monday morning and I had another episode where my heart felt as if it were about to literally knock me on my ass, but it only happened as I was particularly exerting myself during my yoga or weight training workout.

I had to sit for a few seconds to get the breath that had just been knocked out of me and while the powerful beats had kicked in my chest only a few times, it still felt as if it had taken almost everything out of me.

I felt the familiar tingle of anxiety crawl down my spine so I made a mental note to make a doctor's appointment about my irregular heart activity before the day was over.

It was officially time to go to Professor Walsh's class and see what she said before we owned up to what we did. If we didn't get credit for actually catching the original suspect then Malcolm would throw a fit but I needed him to keep my secret.

We could thinly veil the truth, saying that we'd spotted someone taking advantage of a girl outside of the bar after we got the video footage from the attack in question and it just so happened that this criminal was the real suspect in our case.

I just needed to make sure Malcolm was okay with lying to our teacher. If anyone found out about my vigilante ways, I would probably be kicked out of school, especially if I escalated my ways.

I only scoped out the bars for predators and called the cops to stop them, but they were getting more aggressive the more times I caught them in the act.

If I graduated to the frat parties, however, shit would hit the fan and I would be screwed. Frat parties were the last stop on my way to being a full fledged Robin Hood for sexual assault victims.

Instead of stealing from the rich, I'd steal the power from the scumbags who thought they were better than the women they were trying to overpower and strip of their innocence.

I pulled Malcolm aside as we entered the same building before our class and made sure we reached a small corner to speak.

"You know you're kind of famous, right?"

My blood slowed in my body, ice freezing the scarlet liquid in my veins.

"What do you mean?"

"You used to date the new quarterback for the Patriots? It's all over the internet today."

"Oh, that. No, he was just my brother's roommate, and mine for a short amount of time, but that's not what I was wanting to talk to you about."

I had just completely lied to him and I didn't feel an ounce of guilt. The truth was that we hadn't even really dated- it was more and less than that at the exact same time. We couldn't be pinned down as girlfriend and boyfriend, because it was so much deeper than that.

We'd slept together, combined our souls, entwined our energies into the same being and with only a few words in a fight I'd ripped us apart and I didn't know if that wound could ever be healed, at least not by staying away from him.

I didn't want to stay away from him, not anymore, but that wasn't my call to make. He looked happy with that Sofia girl, the one with millions upon millions of Instagram followers, the one with hair and makeup gurus on call 24/7, the one who-

I was doing it, I was officially jealous.

"Lydia?"

"What? Oh right. Sorry. So, I think we should approach Professor Walsh before class and discuss our idea for the case and how we got the footage but caught the real guy in the process when we saw he was trying to hurt yet another woman in almost the exact same way as the one before. We don't say anything about my...extracurricular activities in the process. Sound good? That way you can get credit for trying to go above and beyond on the case?"

"Sounds good to me. But...can I ask you something?"

I sighed, tapping my foot impatiently. My chest was constricting and my head was becoming hot, pins and needles running up and down my skin.

"Sure."

"Why do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Why do you go out almost every nigh and try to put yourself in danger trying to save these people? We have the police and the justice system for a reason. I can understand walking up on something and calling the cops, that's being a good Samaritan, but what you're doing...it's almost like you have a death wish..."

"Malcolm, there's things about me that no one knows, and I'd like to keep those things a secret for my own privacy, but these things are what drives me to want to save the girls that no one else cares about. I can only tell you that while I wish my past didn't define me, it does, in the worst ways. That's really all I can say."

He nodded thoughtfully as he absorbed my words, his blue eyes taking me in through what was probably rose tinted glasses, but I really didn't feel like rebuffing his advances yet again. I wouldn't lead him on, ever, so I turned swiftly on my heel and left him behind me without a parting goodbye.

One ounce of extra attention or affection would probably give him the wrong idea, so while it might've seemed cold to the outsider looking in, it was necessary.

I didn't want to hurt him, he didn't deserve it. Yes he might've been a competitive and intrusive pain in the ass, but he wasn't a bad person, that I could tell.

I didn't want to hurt anyone else who didn't deserve it.

I spotted our Professor before she entered her office and felt Malcolm right on my heels.

Her light blonde, lightly graying hair accented her soft features and her business casual attire matched my own, my grey pencil skirt effectively tucking in my sheer white tank and black blazer atop of it.

"Mr. Dalton, Miss Montgomery. How is the Nearing case coming?"

"Actually there's something we want to discuss with you about it, if you have time before class?"

She pulled us into her office and we explained the entire situation and at first her expression was horrified about the attack we'd witnessed but in the end she praised us for going the extra mile on the case that the other students would have just done the bare minimum on, thinking it was an easy conviction.

"You two went above and beyond, and were put in danger as well because of it. I'm wondering if you two would be interested in an internship with me this summer at my firm?"

Of course we accepted.

Malcolm told me later that this was one of the most prestigious internships to acquire and while I was floating on cloud 9 because of the invitation, something else was lingering in the background.

Because no matter how well I excelled in class or even in my career down the road, I realized that the one person I wanted to celebrate with...wasn't there.

Somewhere behind the roaring behind in my ears and congratulations being offered up to us, my heart stuttered in my chest once more, and I didn't know if it was the physical manifestation of my heartbreak, but a part of me knew that it was only my denial that allowed the refusal of acceptance.