3. April

CHAPTER THREE

april

The ringing of my phone attempts to wake me up. My hand reaches out to get it from my nightstand, but I keep hitting the mattress. I've already rolled once. If I do it again, I'll fall out of bed.

My eyes snap open and confirm what my brain has just whispered to me. I'm not in New York anymore.

I lie awake staring at the ceiling and my phone immediately starts ringing again. I don't need the caller ID to know it's Callie.

"Hello, mate. Fancy a cuppa?" she says in the worst attempt at a British accent ever.

My eyelids may weigh a ton, my throat is hoarse, but my lips spread wide in a big, easy smile. "Oh, shut up and let me sleep," I tease. "What time is it?"

"Noon here, 5 pm there."

I yawn to push my exhaustion away. "Really? Wow, I slept for over nine hours then." I stretch on my giant bed, not one limb leaving the massive mattress. "Feels like nine minutes, though."

"I'm on my way home after being on call for twenty-four hours. You need to keep me awake or I'll fall asleep driving and you'll never, ever forgive yourself for letting me die. Spill. Make it interesting. Lie if you must."

"Fine," I agree, happily giving in to her antics and yawning one more time. "Where do I even start?" I sit up and rally all the smooth, fluffy pillows behind me. "Callie, I feel like freaking Cinderella . I might as well call the mansion I'm living in a castle. My apartment back in Queen's would fit in this one's private patio. Got that? Private. Patio."

The more I talk, the more the sleepiness wears off my voice and I begin to sound like myself again. "The building has a pool, a steam room, a private gym, a screening room, and a wine cellar. The concierge gave me a tour. A tour!" I carry on like someone put me on fast forward, with Callie's warm laugh as background noise.

"And I'm glad he did, or I'd still be out there trying to find my way back." We both chuckle because it's true. My sense of direction is so bad, I've had GPS quit on me.

"Girl, I'm so happy to hear this I could cry, but we know I don't do that. Enjoy the fuck out of it. So what are we doing tonight? We need to start with a bang. And yes, girl. I do mean that literally." Calista has the biggest heart and the dirtiest mouth. And mind, for that matter. I wouldn't change a thing about her.

"Ordering in? Unpacking? Choices, choices—" A horn blaring through the phone makes me pull the thing from my ear.

"Ever heard of a blinker, you moron? Try using it, fucker!" After she's done cursing the other driver, the woman speaking on her own phone while driving turns her attention back to me. "April Hadden, do not test my patience. What's your Tinder password again?"

"Oh hell, no. We're not doing that again, thank you very much. Do you remember the doll collector? Or the one that asked me not to shower before our date?" I shiver at the recollection. "Oh, and let's not forget the one that tried to lick my eyeballs before the starters even arrived." The memory of him wetting his lips is enough for me to gag. "All of which you were sure were real catches?"

I'm wide awake now, so I fling back the sheets and make my way to the kitchen for some water, my phone still pressed to my ear. The living room awes me again. I don't think I'll ever get used to living in this apartment. Goddammit, this place is gorgeous.

"You're many things, my friend. A good matchmaker is not one of them. You almost put me off men. You're not allowed to play Russian roulette with my Tinder anymore." I open one of the Voss water bottles from the fridge. "And anyway, I don't even think I have the app anymore."

"What? London is a whole new playground, so I get to try again. And hey, if you want a dick break, we can always try Scissr. Just say the word." She goes silent for a few too many seconds and I know from experience she's up to something. "Wait. Oh, you innocent girl. Your password's still the same?" Callie bellows an evil laugh that would steal Angelina's role as Maleficent . "Rooky mistake. It's like you're begging me to intervene. Worry not, A. I'm on it. Let's start by changing your location to London…"

She narrates her actions and my heart rate quickens as I try to figure a way out of this "… and putting in a two-mile radius, so you'll get a man as fancy as your new crib. You're in Chelsea, right?"

"Calista, you're a doctor. Be sensible and stop messing with your phone while driving." It's fruitless, but I still try to put some sense into her.

"Shush. I'm almost home and you did great on keeping me awake. Well done, you. But I'm on a mission now. I won't sleep until you have a date for tonight. I'm worse than a dog with a bone. Do not try to rip the bone from this bitch's teeth. I bite, woman." I hear her tires screeching to a halt—sound driver she is. "Okay, I'm safe and parked. Go shower while I go up and browse through our options. I can already tell this will be my redemption. You'll be begging me to do this again. I'll play hard for an entire minute before I agree to do it."

I don't have the energy to fight her right now and I actually do need a shower, so I hang up and decide to try the massive bathtub in my massive bathroom in my massive new apartment.

As I wait for the tub to fill, I notice a message from Preston and I text back to let him know I've arrived safely and to send my love to the girls.

I'm currently soaking in hot water—and planning on doing so until I turn into a prune— covered with bubbles. My body sinks with each exhale, then floats when I inhale. My muscles are loose, relaxing more with every passing minute. Heaven. I'm in heaven .

To my surprise and delight, the fridge and pantry were packed when I arrived here. The bar is equally full, so I treat myself to a bottle of Clase Azul A?ejo, aka the finest tequila ever. I park the blue ceramic bottle right next to the tub and find a fancy liqueur glass to match. Or, as I like to call it to embarrass Callie, a miniature wine glass.

Not long after I get in the bathtub, she is ringing me again. I shake one hand dry and slide a finger on the green dot to answer her.

"A, where are you? I'm staring at the ceiling. Is that a fucking candelabra?" Yes, that's my life now. Bathroom candelabras.

"You Facetimed me? I'm in my tub. I have a bathtub. A huge bathtub. I could swim laps in here," I exclaim.

"Girl, you're just short." She snorts and I join in because she's right. "And so what, you're in a bathtub? I've seen your gorgeous tits hundreds of times. Nothing new there."

"I'm not risking dropping my phone in the water, so talk to the ceiling." I'm adamant.

"Good call. You'd definitely drop that thing. So prop it on the sink or something. I want to see you. I miss you alreadyyyyy." It's those Y's. They crack my paper-thin resolution.

"Fine," I grunt without meaning it and do it, taking the opportunity to show her my personal spa. I refuse to call this a bathroom.

I show her the view to my private garden, the massive vanity table filled with Elemis products, the TV that rivals the screen from my favorite neighborhood cinema back home, and the walk-in shower. Oh, and the couch. Why is there a two-seater in the bathroom? In case I get too tired and need a place to rest on my way to the bedroom? Rich people are weird.

I squeak all this as I give her the tour. Rumor has it that I'm the queen of resting bitch face, but there's no chance I can hide the giddiness I feel at my new home. And it's Callie, so I don't have to.

Calista isn't as impressed because, let's face it, I've seen pictures of the house she grew up in and been to her penthouse in Manhattan countless times. None of this would dazzle her the way it's awing me.

This is not that far removed from her normal, but she still compliments it so she won't kill my vibe. "Wow, now that's a bathroom. Okay, pay attention, because I have a hunk menu for you to choose from." She talks like she's presenting the tackiest game show ever and it cracks me up. "I've narrowed it down to Liam, the burly, tall one, Caleb, the tattooed one, and Aiden, the pretty one. In a posh way. You'll know what I mean in time. You'll find many of those around London."

"Cal, tomorrow I'm going to the stadium to meet with the board, Max's agents, and his sponsors to assure them Max will be fine and no one cut their sponsorship to him or the club. I need to be rested."

She stares unfazed at me. "Says the girl with the tequila in her hand."

"Well, I need to calm my nerves, too." I defend myself and take a sip, winking at her. Damn, this is good tequila. "I get anxious just thinking about talking to all those suits. And hey, when have you ever left me drinking alone? Go get a tequila to call your own."

Cal carries on talking, catching me up with the hospital's latest gossip, complaining that Preston is in a mood after losing his right hand—meaning me—before continuing to go on and on about my hook up options for tonight.

We keep on laughing and drinking.

Tequila number three thought that Liam was indeed pretty handsome with his golden skin and wavy hair, even though I can't see much detail from where my phone's propped on the sink. But I did see abs for days.

Tequila number four agreed to go out on a date with him, while Callie promised me she didn't type anything too embarrassing on their chat while she hijacked my account. She kept insisting he was too promising to pass on.

Tequila number five made me dress much more revealing than usual—of course, the slutty dress I have on was a gift from Callie—and convinced me that letting loose tonight was actually a great way to start this new chapter of my life.

Damn you, Tequila.