Pulling into the garage after a long first week of classes, I groan. Danielle is home. I should be happy to see her. After all, she’s my wife. However, the short trips she makes home are becoming more often a burden rather than joyous. She usually works the entire time she’s home, then complains about Nebraska. If it isn’t the weather, then it’s the lack of culture, and God forbid I attempt to take her out to eat or to a movie.

Closing my eyes for just a moment, an image flashes before me. Dark hair, killer body, and pouty lips. I can’t get the girl from Huskies out of my mind. I’m disappointed that Danielle is home. I wanted to go back this weekend and see if she was there again. It makes me a fucking asshole, I know, but there was something about her. Something that called me to her.

I grab my briefcase out of the passenger seat before heading inside. At least with her being here, I won’t be tempted to go out, and I’ll get all of the first week’s assignments graded. Making my way inside, I’m surprised by how quiet the house is. There is only a single light on in the kitchen, but Danielle isn’t in there.

Walking upstairs toward our bedroom, I open the door and am shocked as shit to see her in our room. Danielle is dressed in a soft blue negligée, her dark blonde hair down her shoulder. “Danny?”

“Hey Tommy,” she whispers. Her phone is in her hand and I’m startled when she sets it down. It seems as though the phone is a permanent part of her hand these days.

She stands from the edge of the bed and stalks toward me, almost feline-like. I can’t remember the last time she initiated anything between us. Usually, when I attempt to touch her, she sighs and eventually resigns, but is never enthusiastic about it. She typically treats sex as a chore. Something she has to endure while she’s home.

“I just,” she shrugs. “I haven’t been around much,” she admits. I want to snort. No shit. I’ve seen her twice in three months. Once for two days and now tonight.

I reach up and gently caress her cheek with my fingertips. “How long will you be home this time?”

Her eyes shift to the side and then come back to me. Looking down into her pretty blue eyes, I see guilt swimming in them. These eyes, they used to shine so fucking bright when they looked at me. Now, she only looks at me with annoyance, guilt, or resignation. Not many other emotions shine through them like they did in the past.

“I’m leaving in the morning,” she admits with a shrug.

My fingers fall from her face. Moving my hand, I place it on my hips, balling it into a fist before I do. “For how long?” I growl.

She shrugs one shoulder, taking a step back. “I’m going to the London office.”

“Fuck,” I bite out. “How the fuck long is it going to continue on like this, Danielle?” I demand.

She lifts her chin in the air, and folds her arms beneath her breasts, pushing them up. “I’m making more money than you are, Tommy. If you want to quit and be with me, then you can. Nothing is stopping you.”

I stare at her like she’s got two fucking heads. It’s almost unbelievable that she’s even uttered the words to me. I personally wouldn’t know how much she makes because we don’t share a bank account. The only time I do know is at the end of the year when I see our taxes. My salary pays for this house, my car, and my own bills. Her fucking mail isn’t even delivered here.

“So what? I’ll be your little bitch, lapdog. Your fucktoy?” I snort.

She lets out a cackle. “Oh please. Do you really think that you’re that good? I mean, let’s be honest here, you’re in your mid-forties. You’re way out of your prime.”

I bite my tongue, refusing to tell her that the twenty-something year old I fucked five nights ago was left completely satisfied when I walked out of her apartment. Then I narrow my eyes “Who have you been fucking?” I ask, ignoring my own dalliances.

“My vibrator, Tommy. Which, incidentally is really all that I need. Should I ask about your personal sex life?”

My eyes widen at her question. I should tell her. Right here, and right now. I should get this bullshit sham of a marriage done and over with. Part of me wonders if she would even care. We don’t talk anymore, we’re virtually strangers, so why would she care where I stick my dick? “You want to know the answer to that?” I question.

Her blue eyes meet mine and she lets out a sigh. “I don’t want to fight. Let’s enjoy our one evening together. Tomorrow, I’ll be gone.”

She closes the distance between us and places her hands on my chest, sliding them up to my neck. I allow her, enjoying the way her cool hands feel on my skin. Last time she was in town, she didn’t want to have sex. It’s been months since I’ve been inside of my own wife. I should be craving this, needing this connection with her. However, it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel good.

“Danny,” I mutter.

Her lips touch mine, her tongue peeking to taste me. “Just, let’s not,” she hums against my mouth. “Not tonight.”

I drop it for the night. I allow our bodies to enjoy one another. My heart isn’t into it though, and I doubt hers is either. We aren’t emotionally connected at all. Being with her tonight feels like I’m having a one-night stand all over again. This isn’t working, and I wonder for the millionth time why I’m in this marriage to begin with.

I watch as my roommate, Jessa, does her homework—on a Friday night. I don’t know much about her yet, just her name and that she’s from a small town in Nebraska. I haven’t really asked much more about her. I sense she’s the kind of girl that likes to keep everything internalized.

I don’t push her, but I’m curious to know more about who she is, and I think that we have more in common than maybe she realizes. I feel really bad for the girl, she’s obviously hung up on her boyfriend, but I’m not sure why. He’s a giant asshole. I snort to myself, I bet he’s friends with that Russ guy, probably BFF’s.

My phone vibrates, taking me away from my thoughts. It’s an invitation to a party at a frat house from Alison. I groan. She apologized, and I spent the week lunching with all three of the girls, every day. However, I’m not sure I’m ready to party and be ditched by them again. They all swore to me that they looked for me, and were worried, but I don’t believe them.

“Hey, want to go out tonight?” I ask Jessa. I’m pretty certain she won’t get wasted, and she won’t ditch me.

She looks up from what looks like math homework and gives me a sad smile. “I can’t. I have to have all of this finished tonight,” she grumbles. I want to tell her that the dickhead doesn’t deserve her, but I keep my loudmouth opinion to myself.

Sifting through my closet, I grab a skin-tight tank dress and slip it up my body. It’s probably a couple of sizes too small, but I’ve always been that way when it comes to clothes. My sisters were that way when they were younger too. Then, Lola got mixed up with her abusive ex-husband and changed everything about her looks. She’s been free of him for six months, but her clothing style has stayed subdued.

My mama has always been this way too, tight and too short, while you’re young enough to still pull it off—that’s her motto. She doesn’t dress super sexy anymore, but she’s still got it.

Once I’m ready to go, I grab my phone and my purse, making my way to the door. I ask Jessa one more time if she wants to go out, but she shakes her head, no. I don’t push her. Hopefully, she’ll ditch that loser one day.

Alison and the rest of the girls are waiting for me outside of my building. I greet them all with hugs, and we start to walk toward our destination. My phone rings in my hand and I cringe at the person on the other end. If I don’t answer, he’ll just keep calling me.

“Hey Kos,” I cheerfully state.

“How are your studies?” he bluntly asks.

I smile, thinking of my hard-nosed, busy brother. I miss him so much already, I don’t know how I’ll survive until I see him at Christmas break. “It was the first week. Not much happened,” I admit.

“What are you doing now? I hear voices.”

I groan. “I’m going out with girlfriends,” I announce.

He grunts but doesn’t say anything for a few beats. “You be careful, Ines. Don’t do any stupid shit.”

Without allowing me to respond, he ends the call. I slip my phone back in my purse and think about his words. Don’t do any stupid shit. I have a feeling Kosmo has never done anything wild, crazy, or stupid a day in his life. I feel like I’m the only one of my four siblings to do anything adventurous. I think he’s decided just me being here is stupid enough, I guess I shouldn’t be having any fun either?

Fuck that.

We arrive at the frat house a few minutes later, and I ignore the crowd of people and head straight for the makeshift bar. I grab a bottle of cheap vodka and I hold it to my mouth, drinking as much as I can without throwing up. Then I take a breath, and I repeat the motion two more times.

I feel my body sway and I turn around. There’s a boy standing behind me, one I’ve never seen before. He’s cute, with dark hair and dark eyes. He’s wearing a leather jacket and he has a tattoo that slithers up his neck. He looks like fucking trouble. He looks like stupid shit that I could get into.

“Be careful there, babe. You don’t want to get plastered,” he chuckles as he reaches out to trail his fingertip down my arm.

I shake my head, it feels so fuzzy, and my brain almost feels heavy inside of my skull. I really shouldn’t have taken that last gulp of vodka. “I’m a big girl,” I slur.

The guy just chuckles, his eyes roaming from my feet up to my breasts, and he pauses. “Nah, babe, you’re perfectly sized in all the right places,” he winks.

His arm slips around my shoulder and he tugs me against his side. My entire body sways with the movement and my legs feel like jello as we walk into the room. I scan the crowd and find Alison. She’s cuddled up next to that football player from the club last weekend and her eyes widen when she sees me. I don’t know what to do, so I just smile. She doesn’t return it, her eyes glancing from the stranger at my side then back to me.

“You want to go upstairs? Talk a little?” he mutters in my ear.

My hazy brain takes a minute to understand his words, then another few seconds to comprehend his meaning. Upstairs can be nothing good. I shake my head, feeling like it’s moving really fast, but it’s probably more slow motion.

“Outside?” I squeak.

He grunts, clearly unhappy that I haven’t agreed to his plan. Reluctantly, he leads me outside. I let the crisp air surround me and I inhale deeply before exhaling. I feel better, a little more sober. The stranger moves his hand down to my waist and turns me against his body.

“What year are you?” I ask, looking into his dark eyes.

His gaze almost dances. “Babe, I’m not in college,” he chuckles. “I just come to the parties. I’m local,” he shrugs.

My brows pull together, and I try to take a step back, but he holds me a little closer and tighter. “Love sweet little innocent college girls. Love to dirty them up. You, you are going to be so much fun,” he grins, dipping his chin and brushing his lips across mine.

I push against his chest with my hands, trying to get some space between us. His arms flex, keeping me in my spot. “I’m just here for some fun. I’m not here to hook up or anything,” I practically whimper. I sound weak, even to my own ears.

He shakes his head once. “Sexy little thing like you, no way you aren’t looking for something more than just fun.”

I decide there’s no way I can allow this to go on. He’s cute, but he’s not that cute. Plus, he’s not nice, not even a little. I lift my foot and slam my heel into his foot, grinding it down until he bellows out in pain and releases me. Then I knee him in the nuts, causing him to double over in pain, and I rush back inside.

Alison is standing in the kitchen, watching me with wide, scared eyes. Running up to her, I wrap my hand around hers. “We gotta go,” I practically scream.

She turns to me and tips her head to the side. “You had Martin in your grasp, and you knee’d him in the nuts?” she practically screeches. I stumble backward a couple steps.

“What?”

She shakes her head. “You’re on your own, bitch. That man is fine, times a million. Girls drop to their knees when he walks by and he came up to you? You’re fucking ungrateful,” she practically spits.

“He grabbed me, and he wouldn’t let go. He practically told me he was going to rape me,” I cry out. I feel overly panicked, and I don’t understand why.

Alison leans in. “Look, I get it. You have tits and ass, and dudes love that. Why do you think I wanted to be friends with you? Guys are totally into all that. But you don’t walk away from a man like that, or a man like Russ, like you’re some kind of stuck up bitch. You aren’t better than them, Ines. You better learn how to play nice, or you’re going to be shit outta luck, with no fucking friends.”

“Alison?” I ask.

I’m feeling confused, wondering if it’s the vodka, or if she’s really saying this to me. She’s truly expecting me to just lay down and let whatever guy who wants to, fuck me, as long as they’re hot and popular? I mean, I thought high school acceptance bullshit was over with.

“Go back to your dorm, Ines. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I don’t bother waiting another minute. What a bitch. I storm past her. I don’t go back to my dorm building though. Instead, I walk around campus a little. I need to think, to sober up, and to just think. Maybe Kosmo was right? Maybe this whole college thing is just a waste of time and money?

I sniffle, wiping my nose as it grows later and colder with each step I take. I don’t know what I’m doing here, or why I’m trying to fit in with these party girls. Shaking my head, I know why. I wanted to have fun, I wanted to party without being under my sibling’s thumbs. I wanted to be free and enjoy myself. It hasn’t really been all that fun lately though. In fact, it’s been pretty fucking miserable.

Closing my eyes, I let out a breath. I have to give this a fair shake. I can’t give up yet and crawl back home. It’s what Kosmo expects, and I fucking refuse. I’m going to succeed. I have to. I don’t know what I’m going to do, or how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to succeed—dammit.