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Teagan

“Where the hell is Kennedy going?” Rowan asks.

As soon as the final buzzer sounded, declaring the Seahawks’ victory, Eamon Kennedy untangled himself from the pile of teammates and took off across the pitch toward his new mot, Norah. They recently started dating, and he’s already head over heels for her.

“Isn’t it obvious, Ro? Norah’s here.” I shrug.

I’ll be honest. I’m a little jealous. My last relationship ended out of the blue at the end of last semester; we had met towards the end of our sophomore year at UNCW and instantly connected. I’d been with Ashley for over a year. The lass didn’t know a stranger either. Everywhere we went, she knew someone or made friends with whoever just happened to be nearby. I loved that about her. She loved that I’m Irish but also said she loved me for so much more. Until, one day, she didn’t.

“I’m sorry, Teags. I just can’t do this anymore. I should have called it months ago, but I hated the idea of hurting you. I still want to be friends though,” she says flippantly in the small kitchen of my apartment.

Laughing, I reach for her. “What are you talking about? Are you slagging me? Very funny, you.”

Ashley steps away from my grasp and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not kidding. We’ve been drifting apart for a while now. Haven’t you noticed?”

I am completely flummoxed. I thought we’ve been happy together. Yeah, we are always busy with school, jobs, and life in general, but I always make it a point to see her nearly every day.

“No, Ash, I haven’t. I thought everything was fine. We’ve been up to ninety with finals, but I’ve done my best to connect with you.”

“It’s not that,” she says hesitantly, running her hand through her golden tresses. “Our spark is gone.”

“Our spark is gone? What the feck does that mean?” I ask incredulously. “Am I not pleasing ya in the bedroom, then? That was one area where I thought we excelled, love. Now yer tellin’ me that my cock isn’t keeping ya happy?” I know my Irish accent thickens when I’m frustrated or overly emotional.

“God, Teagan, that’s not what I’m talking about. That’s all our relationship had going for it, and I want more. I don’t think…” She pauses, pressing her lips together in a thin line.

“You don’t think what, Ashley?” This is so out of left field that I’m making her spell it out for me.

She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders before looking me in the eyes. “I don’t love you anymore. I haven’t for a while now.”

It feels like I’ve just taken a hit on the pitch. She doesn’t love me? Hasn’t loved me. I sink onto the bar stool behind me.

“I’m sorry,” she continues softly. “I don’t want to hurt you. I care about you, but I’m not in love with you. I can’t keep dragging you along like this. It’s not fair to either of us.”

I just stare at her in utter disbelief for a moment before whispering, “When?”

“When what?” Ashley questions .

“When did you stop loving me?”

“Teagan…” she starts.

“No.” I shrug. “You at least owe me that much, love. I’ve devoted myself to you and thought I was giving you everything, but at some point, it wasn’t enough. I’d like to know when.”

She wrings her hands in front of her and mutters, “Since February.”

My head shoots up, eyes narrowing, “February? You haven’t loved me since fucking February ? Why didn’t you say anything to me? I would have done anything to help fix this!”

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Teagan, I’m feeling like I don’t love you anymore’?” she asks, throwing her hands in the air.

“Yes!” I bellow, rising out of my chair and storming around the kitchen island. “You could have told me anything! Even a simple ‘something doesn’t feel right,’ and then I would have explored that with you! I’ve always been open and honest with you, since the very beginning.”

I stop in my tracks as a thought occurs to me.

“Wait…” I say, “February. That’s when you did that internship in Texas.”

Ashley’s cheeks start to flush, and she refuses to look at me.

“Is there… Did you…meet someone else?”

“Teagan…” she pleads. “Can we just leave it? Please?”

My arms drop to my sides in defeat. She cheated on me. I should have known. Every time I called her while she was away, she either kept the conversation short or didn’t answer. She would text me later, claiming that she had been in meetings all day and was exhausted. I wanted her to stay focused and be successful while she was there, so I never pressed the issue.

“Who is he?”

“Don’t, Teag. All you need to know is that I’m moving to San Antonio this summer and finishing my degree there,” she tells me, shame lacing her every word.

I blow out a rough breath and rake my fingers through my hair. “You’re moving? You must really love him, then. I guess there’s nothing left to say, is there? You didn’t talk to me because you’d already made up your mind, didn’t you?”

Ashley timidly closes the space between us, placing a kiss on my cheek. “I’m sorry. I really am. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Then she walks out of my apartment and out of my life.

“Oi! O’Brien!” Rowan yells, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Right, sorry, mate. Yeah, I’ll go get him.”

I take off in a jog across the pitch to where my friend and teammate is kissing his girl passionately. It’s pretty impressive actually. I’m about to make some smart-arse comment when I hear someone clear their throat. Turning, my gaze lands on the most luscious woman I’ve ever seen. Her long ebony hair hangs to the middle of her back in loose waves. The setting sun gilds her tawny skin and lights up the brightest pair of brown eyes I’ve ever had the pleasure of staring into.

“I didn’t think they were going to come up for air; did you, lass?” I ask, peering up at the dark beauty from the sideline.

She giggles and shakes her head. Her cheeks darken with blush, and it makes me want to preen like a damned peacock.

“Oi! Kennedy! You can snog your girl later! Coach wants us in the locker room like five minutes ago!” Ro yells from across the field, clearly not trusting me to do my job.

All three of us are Irish, having transferred overseas at the same time. We didn’t know each other at all until meeting on the field, but we bonded immediately and are usually referred to as the Irish trio . Eamon and I have similar personalities—both more reserved. Rowan Gallagher, however, is anything but reserved. I’m convinced it’s due to the ginger hair.

While Eamon says goodbye to Norah, I keep my eyes on her friend. She has that voluptuous hourglass figure that makes me want to bite my knuckles and groan. She’s an absolute smoke show, and I’m not leaving until I know her name.

“It’s true,” the girl says with a faint accent, remarking on something Norah just said. “She’s an amazing baker too! I can blame every single one of these curves on her!”

She gestures toward her body with a sweeping hand motion.

“You say that like it’s a problem,” I say, climbing over the barrier to stand by Eamon. Eyeing her appreciatively, I watch as she blushes again. I thrust a hand in her direction and drawl, “Name’s Teagan O’Brien. You are?”

“Uh…um. Layla. Layla Diaz.” Her voice quavers nervously as she places a soft hand in mine.

“Pleasure, love. Now, excuse me while I take Romeo here before Coach blows a gasket.” I wink at her. “See you around, Layla.”

A grin spreads across my face as we jog back across the pitch and enter the locker rooms.

* * *

By the time I get home, I’m completely spent, having been up early to study for a test and then in class until about an hour before I had to be at the pitch. I used that hour to eat a late lunch and call my mum. I try to call her once every couple of weeks. After visiting for a few minutes and ascertaining that all is well back in Ireland, I made my way to the pitch to do warm-ups with the team. The game had gone spectacularly. We beat our rivals from Duke University, mostly thanks to Eamon’s hat trick, but I’m pretty proud of the shots I blocked from entering the net. As the Seahawks’ goalie, I make it my mission to defend that goal like a warrior defending a fortress.

Walking into my apartment complex, I stop to check the mail, finding a couple of bills, some junk mail, and a letter from the landlord. Christ, I hope the rent isn’t going up. I’m doing okay financially, but I’ve been saving for a trip back home to see my family. Sliding a finger under the flap of the envelope, I trudge up the stairs to my second-floor flat. I’ve just reached the landing when I get to the point of the letter.

Attention Tenants:

I regret to inform you that the building will be under new management as of two weeks from today’s date. The new management will be completely renovating the complex, requiring all current tenants to relocate indefinitely. If interested in keeping residence here, please visit the website listed below to fill out the inquiry form. Unfortunately, they will not be offering the completed units to current tenants before listing them to the public. It is strictly on a first come, first served basis. Due to these circumstances, I will be refunding everyone’s original deposits and this month’s rent. I will refer anyone to a new complex should they decide to pursue that route.

I apologize for any inconvenience this causes.

Sincerely,

Allen Roper

Rosewood Apartments Management

What the actual fuck? Is this a joke?

“Got your letter, I see,” a withered voice says behind me.

I turn to find my elderly neighbor, Mrs. Bailey, standing in her doorway, leaning against her walker with the puff of white hair on her head illuminated by the fluorescent lights.

“Aye.” I nod in greeting. “I’m hoping this is some sort of prank.”

“I wish it were. Roper came to my door not two hours ago to tell me in person,” she says with disdain.

“How can he do this? Is this even legal?” I’m dumbfounded.

“It’s not him doing it. He didn’t have a say in the matter. He’s not the owner, only management. They’re just making him do all the dirty work. The poor man was sick over the whole thing,” Mrs. Bailey explains.

“How do they expect us all to not only pack up and move out but also find a new place to live?”

She wheezes a sardonic laugh. “They don’t give two shits about us. Why would they when they know the new units will be bringing in three times what we’re paying now?”

I gape at her. “Three times?! That’s absolute bollocks is what that is! Something needs to be done to stop this.”

Shaking her head, she turns to go back inside her apartment. “Too late, sonny boy. It’s already done.”

I stare after her until I hear the locks click into place, then enter my flat, kicking the door closed behind me and dropping my backpack and gym bag on the floor. Raking my fingers through my hair in frustration, I stalk towards the kitchen. What am I supposed to do? Two weeks isn’t feasible at all. I yank a beer out of the fridge and twist the cap off. Taking a deep pull from the bottle, I make my way to the living area and sink onto the sofa, resting my head on the back of it and staring at the ceiling as I process all of this new information.

When I enrolled at UNCW, I knew I wanted to pursue a degree that would allow me to work with nonprofit organizations so I could do my part in making the world a better place. Receiving this bogus eviction notice only fuels that desire. I hate giant corporations that prey on small or local businesses. They don’t care who they hurt as long as those zeros keep getting added to the end of their paycheck. Something needs to change. But for now, I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do about finding a new place to live.