Girl Abroad
by Elle Kennedy
Published by Bloom Books
When nineteen-year-old Abbey Bly gets the opportunity to study abroad for a year in London, it's the perfect chance to finally slip out from under the thumb of her beloved but overbearing retired rock star father.
She's ready to be free, to discover herself—but first off, to meet the girls she's rooming with. That is, until she arrives at her gorgeous new flat to discover those roommates are actually all boys. Charming, funny, insufferably attractive boys. And off-limits, with a rule against fraternizing between housemates after unwanted drama with the previous girl.
Abbey has never considered herself a rulebreaker. But soon, she's lying to her father about her living situation and falling for not one, but two men she can't have: her rugby-player roommate and a broody musician with a girlfriend. Not to mention, her research for school has gotten her tangled in a deeply hidden scandal of a high nobility family, surrounding her in secrets on all sides.
If there's any hope of Abbey finding love, answers, or a future in London, she'll have to decide which rules—and hearts—might be worth breaking.
Genre
Triggers
Drug Use, intimidation (not my MC or love interests)
Girl Abroad has been on my TBR for a while.
After reading The Dixon Rule, I wanted more Elle Kennedy, so I decided to grab a standalone of her's to "scratch the itch".
After finishing Girl Abroad, I'm left kind of ... confused.
A little blank.
Not sure how to put my feelings into words.
Girl Abroad, frankly, had this weird mix of things I loved, things I liked, and things I hated, and am left scratching my head about.
First thing first - the things I loved.
I loved Elle Kennedy writing.
I loved the "New Girl" feel to it, where Abbey very much has this Jess moment, thinking she is responding to an ad for an apartment with girls, and it turns out to be guys.
I loved the element where she has lived in a bit of a bubble, because her retired, rockstar dad, being aware of the world's dangers, wanted to protect her.
I loved that for the most part, Elle Kennedy wrote Abbey as an nineteen year old woman with all the naive musings and reactions of an adult being sent out into the world on their own.
There were plenty of things I liked as well, but didn't love for a few different reasons.
I liked the guys and their individual personalities. I loved the friendship they all formed, the chemistry they had, and the banter between the guys, and Abbey was fun to read.
I liked Abbey. I felt like Elle wrote her as a very "average" character.
That is not a bad thing.
Average meaning relatable in this case.
I feel like most people could relate to something about her.
I really liked Nate, and his passion for life.
I really liked Jack and his passion for sports and his family.
I liked the aspect of Abbey's education, and passion combining into this bit of a mystery. I found myself interested in her finding out the truth of what happened to the girl in the paining.
I liked the steamy scenes, even if they weren't up to Elle Kennedy's usual level of heat.
I liked that nothing was high pressure, which makes sense with the age of the characters we are reading in this book. Nothing is all or nothing. Black or white.
That seems like a lot of things I enjoyed, right?
I did end up giving it 4 stars, but if I had to be honest, after some time sitting on it, it hovers around a 3.5 for me.
Why?
Because of the things I didn't like about it.
While I liked that nothing was high pressure - it also made things feel a tad ... boring. I think this is why I'm drawn to older characters (25 +) in romance.
When you are younger you should get to be wild and explore and be free.
By 25, you should have a job, or beginning your career. Have more experience in life. It makes relationships more intense, more likely that you might find the one.
It didn't seem to matter which relationship Abbey was in, it just felt very ... meh.
I didn't feel the chemistry. Both options felt very convenient.
The love triangle took away key moments Abbey needed with a love interests to truly appreciate them. As a reader, I felt like it was very rushed.
Which leads me to what I hated the most about this book.
Why in the hell did we get multiple sex scenes with the guy she doesn't pick, but we don't get any with the one she does?
I'm not counting them fooling around or oral sex.
It is sex, but it's just an odd choice of Elle Kennedy's, and something I have never encountered before.
Why aren't we getting that moment of raw, intense connection between the end couple?
It felt ... bland. It felt like she maybe chose the wrong guy, despite me thinking in the end she chose right.
I read this book a month ago, and I still can't stop thinking about this.
Why? Why why why?
Maybe we will get more in the TV show?
But also, out of all of Elle Kennedy's hit books, why are they adapting this one?
Girl Abroad is ... I still don't know. I liked it. I guess I liked it. But I'm still scratching my head as to why.
Dad: “This isn’t like going to the movies in downtown Nashville,”
he returns, ignoring my argument.
Dad: “London is a major international city. You can get into a cab and never be seen or heard from again.”
Abbey: “I don’t think Dr. Wu would consider bingeing the Taken series before your daughter’s semester abroad a healthy coping mechanism.”
Dad: “Abbey.”
Abbey: “Dad.”
Dad: “You’re nineteen years old. That’s old enough to drink in the UK. I can’t help if I’m not thrilled at the idea of my little girl on a different continent with people I don’t know, at some nightclub, getting drinks shoved in her face by a bunch of English assholes.”
Abbey: “As opposed to American assholes.”
Dad: “Abbey.”
Dad: “Listen, baby girl,”
he says after a sigh.
Dad: “I know I’ve been kind of a drag, but you gotta remember I’ve never done this before. You’re my kid. Letting you run off and start your own life is pretty scary for a father. When I was your age, I’d just signed a record contract and was in a different city every night getting up to all sorts of trouble.”
Abbey: “So I’ve heard,”
He smiles and drops his head in response.
Dad: “So you know that means I’ve seen all sorts of ways a young woman can find herself in over her head alone in a big city.”
Abbey: “Yeah. I’m under the assumption that’s how I came to be.”
He coughs, furrowing his brow.
Dad: “Something like that.”
Lee: “I knew you’d be a redhead.”
He smiles at me, bright and friendly.
Abbey: “Is, um, Lee home?”
Lee: “Occasionally. I’m about two-thirds into a bottle of merlot, however, so no promises.”
Was that an answer? I’m still baffled.
Abbey: “And the other housemates are guys too?”
I mutter more to myself as I notice the sneakers in the corner and the jackets hanging on the hooks behind the door.
Lee: “Afraid so, luv.”
He gives me a pitying pout.
Lee: “But don’t let their smell put you off. They’re really quite lovely otherwise.”
Jack, I presume. Though he could easily pass for Thor. Only thing missing is the big hammer.
Maybe he keeps that in his pants…
Abbey: “I’m Abbey. You can call me, um, Abbey.”
Oh my God.
Really? What the hell else would he call me? Susan? His lips twitch with humor.
Jack: “I’m Jack.”
A beat.
Jack: “Call me Jack.”
Abbey: “How’d you all meet? You’ve been friends a long time?”
He glances at the other two.
Jack: “It was that holiday do, wasn’t it? At the Spanish place with the fucked-up heads on the wall.”
I lift a brow.
Abbey: “Heads?”
Jamie: “There weren’t any heads. And it was before spring term. That girl Cara’s flat in Chelsea. You remember the one.”
Jack piles eggs and sausage on a piece of toast, folds it, and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. He gulps it down, then says,
Jack: “I remember you nicked a shipment of crisps off a lorry.”
Jamie: “I left him forty pounds.”
Jack: “How much do you think a bag of crisps costs?”
Lee: “You’re both wrong. The place with the masks on the wall was where Nate had his gig the night Jack showed up with that rugby bloke. The one who was put off when his girlfriend walked out of the loo with her lipstick smeared all over Jamie’s face.”
Jack: “That’s right.”
Jack smacks his hand on the counter and points at Jamie.
Jack: “You got your arse kicked.”
He laughs, and the deep sound makes my heart beat a little faster.
Jamie: “Oh, fuck off, Campbell,”
Abbey: “Oh no.”
I try to contain my nervous laughter at the idea of Jamie getting into a bar brawl with a friend of Jack’s. Because I assume all Thor-sized men travel in packs.
Abbey: “You didn’t really fight him.”
Lee: “Ha!”
Lee chuckles, nibbling on a piece of toast.
Jamie: “No.”
Jamie balks.
Jamie: “I aptly sized up the situation and determined self-preservation was the more prudent course.”
I smother a grin.
Abbey: “Meaning what?”
Lee: “Meaning he paid Jack’s mate fifty quid not to damage his pretty face. Which essentially means he paid the bloke fifty quid to snog his girlfriend.”
He stops abruptly when hurried footsteps clatter down the stairs and scurry across the foyer, accompanied by a blur of color. After the front door slams shut behind the exiting smudge, we look to Jamie, who simply offers yet another shrug.
Jamie: “Huge mice.”
Jack: “Could we hurry this up? I was about to go work out.”
Jamie groans.
Jamie: “You’re always working out.”
Jack: “Exactly. You should try it. Put some muscle on those puny pencil arms.”
Jamie: “Why?”
Jamie scoffs.
Jamie: “I look like this without even trying.”
Jack: “Yes, I know. That’s the point.”
Pinching his nose, Lee lets out a long sigh.
Lee: “Are you both done, or do you require that Abbey and I validate your respective masculinities and tell you how devastatingly hot you both are?”
Lee: “There is absolutely no fraternizing among housemates.”
Oh.
Jack: “Otherwise known as the Jamie rule,”
Jack says helpfully.
Lee: “Anyway, I don’t entirely blame her.”
Jack: “You mugged her off good, mate,”
Jamie: “It could have been handled better on all sides. Let’s leave it at that.”
Lee, however, is more willing to expound on the topic. He’s quick to tell me how the two of them hooking up got complicated when Jamie’s tendency toward polyamory came as an unwelcome surprise to her.
Jack: “He’s a tricky rat bastard,”
Jack says to sum up.
Jack: “Sneaking girls in and smashing two doors down from her bedroom.”
Jamie: “So in your mind, once I’ve slept with a girl, I’m to be exclusively bound to her for the rest of my existence then. Is that it?”
Exasperated, Jamie now employs a full-throated defense.
Jamie: “I wasn’t aware I’d married her.”
Abbey: “I’m sensing it got ugly.”
I direct this to Lee, whose answering expression suggests that’s a gross understatement.
Lee: “Toxic. This one was a little shit about it. Not even an apology to keep the peace. So once they stopped talking, she started throwing things. Couldn’t get her out fast enough.”
Jack: “To be clear, I’d have chosen Fiona to stay.”
Jamie throws up his middle finger.
Jamie: “Cheers, mate.”
Lee: “She wasn’t an unpleasant girl. Jamie just has that effect on people.”
Abbey: “Who’s that?”
I ask, because I’m nosy.
Lee: “George. A new friend.”
Abbey: “A special friend?”
His smile grows wider.
Lee: “Could be.”
Abbey: “He coming to the show?”
Lee laughs at me and shakes his head.
Lee: “Not that kind of friend.”
Abbey: “Ah. I see.”
Lee: “We’re meeting up after the show, though.”
Abbey: “Got a picture?”
Lee beckons me over and opens Grindr to show me his new friend’s profile. I lean in for a better look. George is handsome, except for one glaring deformity.
Abbey: “What’s with the cop ’stache?”
I demand, aghast.
Lee: “Oh, babe, I know,”
Lee places his finger over the lower half of George’s face.
Lee: “But see? Perfect.”
I laugh.
Abbey: “Maybe you can talk him out of it.”
Lee: “If things go really well, I’m shaving that thing off once he falls asleep.”
Jamie: “Lee in there?”
Jamie appears in my doorway, entirely naked. A towel is slung over his shoulder.
Jamie: “Have you used my trimmers? I’ve just gone to find them, but they’re not in my cabinet.”
My hand flies up to avert my gaze, but it’s too late. The image of Jamie Jr. is burnt on my retinas. Barely a week in and already my father’s worst nightmares are coming true.
Jamie: “Go on, darling. Have a gander,”
Jamie says with humor in his voice.
Jamie: “Surely you’ve seen a knob before.”
Abbey: “Oh,”
I say, coughing a laugh.
Abbey: “Isn’t that quaint.”
Jack keels over with laughter.
Jack: “Oh no, mate. She called it quaint.”
Jamie: “I think she meant the euphemism.”
Jack: “No, she’s said your willy’s sweet and delicate like Grandma’s knitting.”
Jamie: “We’re English, Abbs,”
Jamie replies in his crisp, posh accent.
Jamie: “Englishmen only make a big deal about pints and footy.”
I inwardly cringe, kicking myself. Already, I sound like a stupid fawning bass bunny. I’ve played dolls in Steven Tyler’s house and ridden horses at Skywalker Ranch, but here I am starstruck by some guy playing gigs in a West London pub. I hate me.
Jamie: “Not bloody likely. I’d sooner lose a foot than give you the keys of a machine like that. American drivers are notorious.”
Abbey: “You know movies aren’t real, right?”
Jamie: “Isn’t crashing cars literally a sporting event there?”
Abbey: “Depends who you ask.”
Jamie pours himself some tea, defiant.
Jamie: “Americans are the most destructive force the world has ever known, and I won’t have one behind the wheel of my car. Especially not a teenage girl.”
Jack: “The most dangerous kind,”
Jack says with a mocking ominous voice.
Abbey: “I’m turning twenty in January,”
Jamie: “It’s September. Ergo, today you’re still a teenager who won’t be touching my car.”
Jack: “Forget him.”
Jack winks at me as he carries his empty bowl to the sink.
Jack: “I’ll take you driving when we get a chance.”
A flush of excitement warms my cheeks.
Abbey: “Really?”
Jack: “Sure. What’s living without the imminent threat of death?”
Jack elbow-jabs me on his way out of the kitchen, leaving Jamie to chuckle to himself as he scrolls Insta.
Boys are dicks.
Jamie: “That depends. Are they going to play a song I’ve not heard forty times?”
Lee: “They’d have to write a song that isn’t one of their eight thinly veiled Bob Dylan covers, so I doubt it.”
Abbey: “Okay.”
I laugh with relief.
Abbey: “I didn’t want to say anything, but I thought I was the only one.”
Lee: “They try so hard. Does have the feeling of a child’s school recital, though, don’t it?”
Jamie: “Shame, because Nate’s bloody damn good,”
Jamie tsks.
Jamie: “Come to think of it, Kenny’s a fine singer. And Rodge kills it on those drums.”
Lee: “Perplexing,”
Abbey: “My dad always talks about how he was in this band in high school. They were all fine individually. Together, they were a dreadful mess.”
I shrug.
Abbey: “I guess it takes more than standing on the same stage to make a band.”
Jamie: “That’s quite good. I like that.”
Even if Yvonne wasn’t in the picture, how could I go home telling my dad I’d fallen for a bassist? He’d disown me.
Abbey: “Can we go to the estate sale? Just for a few minutes?”
Lee: “Yes, can we, darling?”
Lee bats his eyelashes.
Jamie: “Right. Hang on.”
Jamie makes a sudden U-turn.
Jamie: “If you both promise to behave yourselves.”
Lee’s quick to quip back.
Lee: “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Abbey: “Stop it,”
I blurt out, staring through the passenger window.
Jamie: “We have stopped,”
he says, puzzling over me.
Abbey: “You just, like, live here? Like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.”
He smiles, at least a little charmed by my astonishment.
Jack bobs and weaves his head as he enters, examining the painting from different angles.
Jack: “The eyes. I swear they’re following me.”
Abbey: “Lee doesn’t like her.”
I grin.
Abbey: “He thinks she’s going to crawl out of there and end up standing over his bed with a butcher knife.”
Jack shudders.
Jack: “Thanks for the nightmares.”
Abbey: “Part of her charm.”
Excitement begins building inside me, that same nerdy glee I feel every time I’m about to delve into a period of unknown history.
Abbey: “What could possibly have gotten her blackballed by a family like the Tulleys? Was she a misfit? A rebel? I don’t know. And there’s something about her expression. It’s like she’d just swallowed a smirk, you know? She was up to something.”
I glance at Jack to realize he’s no longer contemplating the painting but transfixed on me.
Abbey: “What?”
I say self-consciously.
Jack: “Really turns you on, does it? This history stuff.”
Abbey: “Aren’t you passionate about something?”
Jack: “Rugby”
is the instant reply. I snort.
Jack: “—and sex.”
My snort turns into a startled cough.
Jack: “Big fan of that,”
he adds with a faint smile.
And the smell.
Old books.
Paper and binding glue.
Embedded deep in the grain.
I haven’t been this turned on since last Thursday when Jack’s towel almost slipped as he padded past me down the hallway.
I went to a water polo match once in high school, because Eliza’s boyfriend was on the team. I was doing great until they all filed out of the locker rooms like a school of Speedo-wrapped penis fishes. I couldn’t stop laughing. I don’t know, it was some strange nervous response, leaving me in absolute hysterics on the bleachers. Eliza had her hands mashed over my mouth and was practically burying my head in her lap while moms and even the referee on the side of the pool with his little whistle in his mouth stared at me with irritation.
This probably won’t be like that.
Parents shouldn’t have internet if they can’t use it responsibly. They’re fragile and can’t be allowed to run wild on the mean streets of cyberspace. Case in point: my dad’s downloaded every London news app to his phone and spends his mornings sending me articles and weather updates. I thought he had friends. And, like, hobbies. Instead, terrorizing me has become his full-time occupation.
Abbey: “You look nice. Do you have a date or something?”
Jamie: “Nope. Just wanted to look pretty for you, darling.”
Abbey: “Stop flirting with me. I’m busy.”
Jack: “Well, don’t you look cozy,”
His amused smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
Jack: “Am I interrupting?”
Jamie: “Abbey here was giving me a crash course on the Tulleys of yore.”
Jack: “So what you’re saying is you didn’t place our dinner order.”
Jamie: “Forgive me, darling. I forget how cranky you get on an empty tummy.”
Jamie slides off my bed.
Abbey: "So this is about New George?”
Lee: “Old George now. I broke it off. He was far too clingy.”
Lee drains the remainder of his glass and pours himself another.
Abbey: “Is it really considered breaking up if you’ve been dating less than two weeks?”
Lee: “One would think. I sent a very lovely text telling him I didn’t see things going anywhere, and this bloke wouldn’t accept it! He showed up at my bio class today and ambushed me.”
Lee’s eyes widen in horror.
Lee: “Can you believe that? The nerve of this entitled boy! Forcing me to end things in person!”
My laughter spills out.
Abbey: “Oh, you poor thing.”
I reach out to pat him on the arm. Although, in Lee’s defense, demanding an in-person breakup from some random guy you met on a dating app and went out with a few times? That’s bold, George.
Lee: “I’m emotionally exhausted,”
Lee announces, heaving a dramatic breath.
Lee: “I stopped by the off-licence for several bottles of very bad merlot, made us a breakup playlist, and brought down my wigs. Shall we begin?”
And that’s why, when Jack and Jamie stumble in from the pub a couple hours later, Lee and I are wearing matching pink wigs and dancing to Blondie’s “Call Me” while singing along off-key and far too loud.
Did I mention I’m drinking on an empty stomach?
Jamie: “What on earth?”
Jamie looks from me to Lee, then glances at Jack.
Jamie: “You seeing this too, mate?”
Jack: “Oh, I am.”
Jack’s blue eyes track our frenetic dance moves for a moment. Then he shrugs and says,
Jack: “Right then. What’re we drinking?”
Jamie: “You know what, Abbs?”
Jamie drawls from his perch.
Abbey: “What, Jamie?”
I play along.
Jamie: “You’re a cool bird.”
That makes me smile.
Abbey: “Thank you.”
Jamie: “Thought you were sort of meek when you first showed up,”
he continues, his tone contemplative, words a bit slurred. I’m miffed by that comment.
Abbey: “Meek?”
Jamie: “Meek. Timid. Maybe a wee bit of a prude, yeah?”
He’s on a roll, too inebriated to realize I’m glaring at him.
Jamie: “But you’re good fun. You’ve got banter.”
Abbey: “Thanks?”
I’m still not sure if I’m angry he thought I was a prude.
Jamie: “And you’re fit,”
he adds, winking at me.
I go to the couch and settle between Jamie and Lee, leaning over the latter’s phone.
Abbey: “Oh, he’s cute.”
I admire the profile pic on the screen.
Lee: “Says here he’s new to this app,”
Lee says, skimming the dude’s bio.
Lee: “Recently got out of a five-year relationship—”
Abbey: “With a woman,”
I finish with a gasp.
Abbey: “Been questioning his sexuality for a while and wants to do some exploring to figure out if he’s bi.”
Lee: “Bi-curious lads are fun,”
Lee informs me.
Abbey: “Scroll up?”
When he does, my jaw falls open, and I swivel my gaze back to Lee.
Abbey: “His name is George? Are you kidding me?”
Jack: “Bi George,”
Jamie: “Bi-Curious George,”
There’s a beat of silence and then we all hoot in laughter, because the moniker is utterly brilliant. I watch as Lee swipes right on George. Instantly, the words It’s a Match! pop up on the screen.
Lee: “Lovely.”
Satisfied, he turns to wink at me.
Lee: “Third George’s the charm, right?”
Abbey: “Here’s hoping.”
Lee: “I shall keep you posted on our shagging progress,”
Abbey: “Please do.”
Abbey: “I’m not discussing my sex life with you,”
I answer primly.
Jamie: “Why not? I’ll tell you all about mine if you’d like.”
Abbey: “No need. I already hear your sex life through the walls every other night.”
He beams.
Jamie: “Thank you for noticing.”
Lee: “We want something better.”
Jamie nods.
Jamie: “Something dirty.”
I roll my eyes at him.
Abbey: “Pass.”
Lee: “Something mortifying then. Worst sexual experience.”
Abbey: “That’s still a dirty one!”
Lee’s stubborn as always. As well as very, very drunk. He waves his wineglass around so jovially I worry for our carpets.
Lee: “Tell me a secret, Abigail!”
Since I’m equally drunk, I end up giving Lee what he wants and revealing an embarrassing secret.
Abbey: “I slept with a guy in high school who told me one of my boobs was much bigger than the other, and now it’s all I see when I look in the mirror.”
Bad move, Abbey.
Suddenly, I have three dudes squinting at my chest. Even Jack has sat up to take a good look.
Abbey: “Oh my God. Stop staring!”
My cheeks are flaming.
Jack: “You brought that on yourself,”
He’s not wrong. But still.
Abbey: “I’ve got a bra on anyway,”
I grumble.
Abbey: “You can’t see the difference unless I’m topless.”
Jamie: “I agree,”
Jamie says gravely.
Jamie: “You must take your top off so we can better assess.”
I reach over to slug him in the arm.
Abbey: “You’re the worst.”
Jamie: “They can’t be that disproportionate,”
Jamie adds, shrugging.
Abbey: “He used the words much bigger. That implies a huge proportional discrepancy.”
Jamie: “Proportional discrepancy. Look at you, all articulate when you’re sloshed.”
Lee: “Let me see them,”
Lee orders, once again bringing the scorch of embarrassment to my face.
Lee: “I’m the obvious candidate to judge the proportions, given that boobs do nothing for me. I promise I won’t objectify you.”
Abbey: “Or…and hear me out…I don’t show them to anyone.”
Jamie: “I’ll do it,”
Jamie volunteers.
Everyone: “No,”
Abbey: “See? It’s bigger, right?”
Lee: “I truly don’t see it, babe. And you know me. I’d tell you if I did. I live and breathe the drama.”
I can’t argue with that.
Abbey: “You really don’t think one is drastically bigger?”
Lee: “Not at all. But did you know you have a freckle under your left nipple?”
Jack starts to cough. I snatch up my bra and shirt, throwing the latter on without bothering with the former.
Abbey: “All right. You’ve lost your breast privileges,”
I tell Lee, jabbing my finger in the air.
Abbey: “You took liberties. Freckle assessment wasn’t on the table!”
He howls and walks over to sling his arm around me.
Lee: “I love you, Abbs. You’re the best flatmate I’ve ever had.”
Jack: "Go on then. Show me yours.”
My heart does a stupid flip.
Abbey: “Um. Pardon me?”
Jack pours out some batter on the griddle before facing me again.
Jack: “Your scars. I showed you mine. Fair’s fair.”
Abbey: “I only have one.”
Shrugging, I throw my foot up on a stool, roll up my linen pant leg, and point to the pale, thin line just above my knee.
Abbey: “Summer camp. I came in too hot on the zip line and crash-landed. Found a nail poking out of the deck with my leg.”
Jack: “Damn.”
Abbey: “I mean, it’s no hazelnut bullet,”
I say with feigned modesty.
Abbey: “But I did have to get a tetanus shot, so…clearly that makes me tougher than you.”
Jack: “A tetanus shot? Fuck, that’s sexy.”
Abbey: “Isn’t it?”
Jack: “Watch out for that one,”
Jack says to the boys, turning back to his pancakes.
Jack: “She’s no respect for the house rules. Just groped me right out in the open.”
Lee: “That so?”
Lee arches an eyebrow at me.
Jamie: “I knew she was trouble. The redheads always are.”
The sight of him leaning against the bike. Like, stop, dude. You were already hot. This is just overkill. A girl can only take so much.
Eliza: On a scale of 1–10, 1 being “I guess we can hold hands” and 10 being “take your penis out right now!” how hard are you crushing?
Abbey: Like a 7?
I’m lying. My attraction to Nate is at that visceral level where he simply breathes and I swoon.
Eliza: You slut.
Abbey: Would be an 8, but he’s a bassist.
Jack grins at me.
Jack: “I’ve never mentioned you once. Someone asked me earlier if you were a lost neighborhood child. I said no, that’s the mouthy American who doesn’t know how to put her dishes away.”
Abbey: “Uh-huh. That’s why you practically threatened to fight your friend so you could cut in, right?”
Jack: “I was protecting him. He’s very dumb and unsuspecting.”
Lee: “Romance is dead,”
Lee responds bitterly.
Jamie: “Oh no, mate.”
Jamie throws his arm around Lee’s shoulder.
Jamie: “We didn’t like Third George?”
Abbey: “It’s Bi-Curious George,”
I correct, and Yvonne laughs.
Yvonne: “Brilliant,”
she says in approval.
Lee heaves a sigh.
Lee: “No, just another same old George. He decided the cock wasn’t for him. And now I’m once again left bereft without a soulmate in sight.”
Celeste: “Maybe if you stopped searching for your soulmate on a hookup app.”
Celeste aims a pointed glare at her twin.
Lee: “Oh God, no.”
He smirks.
Lee: “I am exactly that bitch. Anyway, I’ve a date tomorrow.”
Jamie: “Long live romance.”
Jamie holds his glass up, then takes a drink.
Jamie: “Abbey, darling, settle an argument for me,”
he says instead of hello.
Jamie: “Should ketchup be consumed cold or at room temperature? We need an American perspective on this.”
Abbey: “You don’t even eat ketchup.”
Jamie: “Of course not. There’s nothing so hideous in all of creation,”
he says, because, Jamie.
Jamie: “But if one did…”
Abbey: “Room temp. Obviously.”
Jamie: “Yeah, see,”
he says away from the phone.
Jamie: “She says you’re barking, mate.”
I let out a giddy sigh. Nate looks over, an indecipherable glint in his eyes.
Abbey: “What?”
I say self-consciously.
Nate: “Nothing. Just…”
His tongue comes out briefly to moisten his lower lip.
Nate: “You should see yourself right now. Your whole face is lit up. Cheeks flushed. You look like you just…”
He trails off, wrenching his gaze away.
Abbey: “Like I just what?”
Because I’m a masochist. His eyes flick back to mine. Just for a moment.
Nate: “Like you just had a good fuck.”
I feel those words between my legs.
Abbey: “Oh”
is the only syllable I manage to utter through my dry throat.
Abbey: “He was cute,”
Nate’s amused voice tickles the back of my head.
Nate: “Was he now?”
Abbey: “Sure. I mean, I totally would’ve tapped that,”
I say before remembering I’m not with Eliza but rather with a gorgeous Englishman. That gets me a strangled laugh.
Nate: “I reckon poor old Will would’ve been riddled with confusion if you hit on him using that phrase.”
I start laughing too and affect a (not good) posh British accent.
Abbey: “Hullo, sir, I would like to tap you. Please, remove your britches.”
I turn to beam at Nate.
Abbey: “Hot, right?”
Nate: “So hot,”
he says solemnly.
Nate: “How on earth do you know that?”
I smile smugly.
Abbey: “I’m a possessor of infinite knowledge, Nate. That’s how you roll when you spend your entire life in the library.”
Nate: “Should we brag about that? Truly?”
A laugh sputters out.
Abbey: “Fair critique.
As I stand with muddy prints on the knees of my jeans, Nate holds out a dark red flower I hadn’t noticed him pick. My heartbeat accelerates.
Abbey: “What’s this for?”
I squeak, trying to talk through the surprised lump in my throat.
Nate: “Reminds me of your hair.”
He twirls the short stem between his long, callused fingers.
Nate: “And I felt like it.”
Abbey: “Come to scold me again?”
I ask mockingly. He mocks me right back.
Jack: “I don’t know. Have you been a bad girl again?”
Oh God.
Hot Jack shouldn’t be allowed to utter the words bad girl.
Jack: “This is a bad idea,”
Abbey: “Terrible,”
Jack: “Just want one taste,”
he mumbles, and then he kisses me.
Abbey: “Tell me something. Or tell me to piss off if it’s none of my business. But I’ve watched you two. Listened to the way she talks about you. And I can’t for the life of me figure how you and Yvonne make sense.”
Leaning back in his chair again, he pushes his plate aside to buy himself time to consider.
Nate: “Why do any of us get together? We’re all looking in other people for something missing in us.”
Abbey: School’s great. How’s bassisting?
Nate: That’s not a word.
Abbey: I’m a word creator. Sort of like a content creator, but with words.
Nate: You really didn’t need to add the second part. I understood the concept of word creation without it.
Jack: “Keep an eye on this one, would you?”
Jack nods toward me as he speaks to Lee.
Jack: “Try to keep her out of trouble. She’s liable to topple the monarchy.”
I mock glare at him.
Abbey: “I would never. Not on purpose anyway.”
Abbey: “Having fun?”
Lee: “I’m in love.”
Abbey: “That was quick. Have you and Colin set a date yet?”
Lee recoils.
Lee: “The boxer? God no. I’m in love with Eric.”
Abbey: “Poor Colin. He was cute.”
Lee: “And we shared a beautiful moment in one of the eighty bathrooms. But I can’t listen to that accent for the rest of my life. And then, my dear Abbey, I met Eric,”
he says with a yearning that is almost lewd.
Lee: “His family builds yachts.”
Abbey: “It’s everything you’ve always wanted.”
Lee: “Like, okay, I know I sound like a shallow bitch. He does have other qualities. He likes jazz and nature documentaries.”
Neither of which I’ve ever seen Lee express an interest in.
Abbey: “Whatever makes you happy.”
Abbey: “Hey. Jamie. Question. Do you make noise when you get a blow job?”
Jamie: “Heaps of noise. Would you like a demonstration?”
Abbey: “Ew. No.”
I hear him chuckling as he heads downstairs.
Now in the passenger seat, he watches me as I adjust the mirrors.
Jack: “Remember. The red sign with the word stop on it—”
Abbey: “Accelerate to eighty-eight miles per hour and ram it.”
Jack:“Oh, Christ. This was a bad idea.”
Jack covers his eyes and sinks into the seat until we’ve cleared the intersection.
Abbey: “Come on. Aren’t you going to tell me this isn’t half as scary as the time you bare-knuckle boxed a kangaroo when you were seven?”
He shoots me a disapproving scowl.
Jack: “I regret this already.”
Jack leans against the car beside me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his coat. Then he turns a fraction to face me.
Jack: “You’re cute when you’re angry.”
Abbey: “I’m not angry.”
Jack: “Still cute.”
Abbey: “Right,”
I say, brushing it off with laugh.
Abbey: “We’d be married and divorced in six weeks. Tops.”
Jack: “Right. Lawyers are so expensive these days.”
Abbey: “It’d be an ugly custody battle. I’d obviously get Lee and the house.”
Jack: “Of course.”
Jack unlocks the door, and we get in the car.
Abbey: “You’d get Jamie,”
I continue as he starts the engine.
Abbey: “But splitting up the kids is always tough on their development.”
Jack: “We have to think of the children.”
Jamie: “Oh, mate. You didn’t.”
Jamie tosses his hands up and dumps himself into the armchair.
Jamie: “You couldn’t just buy him some flowers, for fuck’s sake?”
Jack: “This is what he does,”
Jack explains to me while still glowering at Lee.
Jack: “Celeste says he’s—what does she call it again?”
Jamie: “Boyfriend chameleon,”
Jack: “That’s it. He gets smitten with a bloke and takes on his interests. Last year, he dated a guy who raised poisonous snakes. Before that, it was the semipro extreme sports guy.”
Jamie starts to laugh.
Jamie: “Ah, right. Hey, Lee, whatever happened to that BMX bike you spent two thousand pounds on?”
Lee: “Kindly fuck off, Jamie,”
Lee says cheerfully.
Guy 1: “What do you say, dollface?”
One of Jack’s teammates with a nasty red welt under his eye sidles up beside me.
Guy 1: “Make us a sandwich while we’re waiting. Some roast beef on rye? Or sourdough if you’ve got it.”
The guys get a good chuckle at my expense.
Abbey: “You ever find a girl that works on, marry her,”
Guy 2: “He tried, but his mum’s already married to his dad.”
Nate drags his hungry gaze down my naked body.
Nate: “Nice,”
Abbey: “It isn’t polite to stare.”
He chuckles.
Nate: “I’m not that polite.”
Nate: “Take some advice,”
Nate says, sweeping a few strands of hair off my face.
Nate: “Don’t spend what little time we have making everyone else happy at your own expense. You’re the only one who will live with your regrets.”
Abbey: “Morning. Not to be rude, but if you don’t want an interrogation on your way out, you better hop to.”
He flashes me a sly grin.
Nate: “Are you kicking me out of bed?”
Abbey: “You’re cute, but yes.”
Nate: “It suits you,”
he says against my hair as we dance, his hands skimming down my back and resting on my ass.
Abbey: “What?”
Nate: “Freedom.”
Jack: “How was that?”
he drawls, leaning against the cement barrier wall that divides the bleachers from the field.
Abbey: “Not bad.”
I give him a coy shrug.
Abbey: “That bit at the end there was cool.”
An unabashed grin colors his expression.
Jack: “Yeah, you liked that?”
Abbey: “It was okay.”
Jack: “See me tackle that bloke to the ground?”
Abbey: “I did. He looked quite put out.”
Jack: “Bloody right.”
Abbey: “I really like this Jack,”
I say between hungry kisses.
Abbey: “You know, the one who wants me so bad he devours me on the rugby pitch.”
Jack: “Already told you—I’ve wanted to devour you from day one.”
Jack’s face hovers over mine. He chuckles.
Jack: “I thought it was obvious how much I fancied you.”
Abbey: “Honestly, no. I mean, sure, you kissed me twice, but you also ran away screaming both times.”
Jack: “I did not scream.”
Abbey: “Still ran, though.”
Nate: Popped into the library at Trinity College today to photograph it for you. The boys thought I’d gone mad.
Several pictures pop up in succession, each one making me drool.
Oh sweet Lord. This library. It’s perfection. Heaven. I actually feel a tingling between my legs.
Abbey: I have never been more turned on in my life.
Nate: Yeah? Hold on. I got more.
Three more pics appear. One is a close-up of a page from the Book of Kells. The other two are panoramic shots of the Long Room.
Abbey: Stop. Please. I’m in an Uber and I don’t think he’ll appreciate me moaning out loud.
Nate: Getting you that hot, yeah? One sec. Got another for you.
When the next image appears, I give a sharp intake of breath. Which draws the attention of my driver.
Driver: “All right back there?”
Abbey: “Fine,”
I reply through the mound of cotton now stuffed in my mouth. I can scarcely breathe. Nate just sent a picture of his long bassist fingers curled around the very obvious bulge in his faded jeans.
Abbey: OMG. That’s a dick pic!
Nate: Nah. It’s dick pic adjacent. At best.
Nate: You’re welcome.
Abbey: Cheeky boy.
Jamie: “Is this when you tell me you’ve been joyriding in my car and tore the mirror off?”
Jamie inquires during dinner, swirling his third glass of wine.
Abbey: “Would this get me off the hook if I did?”
Jamie: “Certainly not.”
Abbey: “Then no, that mirror’s always looked like that.”
Jack: “It felt like shit, hurting somebody I cared about.”
Abbey: “And you’re scared you’ll do it again?”
Jack: “Sort of, I suppose.”
I rub the inside of his palm with my thumb.
Abbey: “Want to know a secret? You will.”
Jack: “I will what?”
Abbey: “You’re going to hurt someone again.”
He looks startled.
Jack: “What?”
Abbey: “You are. We all are. I’m sure I’m going to hurt many people during my lifetime. Not maliciously. Or maybe, sometimes, it might be malicious. Maybe I’ll say something in anger that I’ll regret afterward. But it’s going to happen. Human beings are wired to hurt each other.”
Jack: “Well, aren’t you depressing,”
Jack says with a smile.
Abbey: “But you know what else humans are wired for? Forgiveness. So yeah, you’ll probably hurt someone again the way you hurt Lara. But if you’re lucky, they’ll forgive you.”
Abbey: “Holy shit,”
I exclaim, conveying the appropriate amount of shock and awe.
Abbey: “Wow.”
I raise one eyebrow at Jack.
Abbey: “She must be really special if you invited her here.”
He bites his lip, slowly meeting my gaze.
Jack: “She might be.”
His mouth moves close to my ear.
Jack: “I’m going to sneak into your room tonight, Abbey. And I’m going to eat your pussy all goddamn night.”
Oh. My. God. Then he smiles.
Jack: “I want you to think about that when you’re with him today.”
Jack pinches my hip.
Jack: “You listening to me?”
Abbey: “No,”
I say, lifting my head from my book to smile at him.
Abbey: “But you keep going if it makes you happy.”
Jack: “You’re a bit of a shit, you know that?”
Abbey: “A bit.”
Under different circumstances, nothing he’s saying would be unreasonable. I mean, if we never met the right people at the wrong time, rom-coms wouldn’t exist. Nate’s not a bad guy for knowing himself and his own limitations.
But I also know mine.
Jamie: “Wait, I need to change my shirt.”
He smacks Jack’s arm.
Jamie: “You need to put one on. Something clean, please. Don’t embarrass us.”
Abbey: “What’s Soho House?”
I pipe up. Lee and Jamie both shoot me a glare like I should be ashamed for asking.
Dad: “Somewhere we can get a bite without too much attention. You’ll like it, kiddo. They do a great grilled cheese.”
A dumbfounded Lee gawks at him.
Lee: “It’s an A-list only members club for actors and musicians and the like. Very swank.”
I sigh.
Abbey: “Dad, you don’t have to make a fuss—”
Before I can even finish, Lee smothers me with his hand over my face.
Lee: “She’s delirious. Please, make a fuss.”
Jamie: “Abbs,”
Jamie shouts from upstairs.
Jamie: “Can you steam my shirt?”
Abbey: “Look what you’ve done,”
I tell my father.
Abbey: “I hope they have a midnight menu.”
Abbey: “You are such a hypocrite. You sat there in my dining room tonight telling me how conniving I was! I groveled and apologized while you chastised me about lying to you, and turns out you’re a liar too! An even bigger one. You made me believe I was free.”
Dad: “Abbey.”
He blanches.
Dad: “You’re not my prisoner.”
I ignore the denial.
Abbey: “You couldn’t even let me make my own mistakes. You have so little trust and faith in me, you had to insinuate yourself into my story, my adventure. My”
—my voice catches—
Abbey: “friendships. You…”
It happens.
The tears start to fall.
Abbey: “I’ve waited my whole life to start living.”
My voice cracks.
Abbey: “Having my own stories and adventures, not just retelling yours.”
Guilt creases his rugged features.
Abbey: “There isn’t much downside to being Gunner Bly’s daughter, but it is a little chilly in your shadow. All I’ve ever wanted was some space to be my own person.”
Dad curses under his breath.
Dad: “Christ, kid. That one cuts deep. I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
Abbey: “I don’t want you to feel bad. It’s not your fault that you are who you are.”
I sigh.
Abbey: “But it’s time you allowed me to be who I am.”
Dad: “Someone else? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? How many guys are you dating, kiddo?”
Abbey: “The real sucky part is I might be in love with both of them.”
Dad: “You’re not.”
Abbey: “Um. Okay.”
My baffled expression summons a chuckle from him.
Dad: “Listen to me, kid. I know you’ve got a lot of love to give. Being in love, though, that’s a whole different thing. The heart knows there’s always just one.”
Abbey: “Really? When’s it going to tell me?”
Dad: “You gotta listen. If you’re in love with one of them, it’s been telling you.”
I don’t know if that’s true. Or maybe it’s proof I’ve never been in love with either one of them.
Abbey: “Granted, I also made a ton of mistakes,”
I confess, reaching for my water glass.
Abbey: “Lied to you. Got tangled up in a love triangle. Naively fell victim to a scoundrel like Ben Tulley.”
Dad: “You’ve made mistakes. That just means you’re doing it right. The living part.”
I inhale a slow, pensive breath.
Abbey: “Do you think she ever regretted her decision?”
He questions me over the rim of his glasses.
Abbey: “When the water was pouring in over the side and filling the hallways. Do you think she wished she’d never heard the name Tulley?”
Mr. Baxley: “I’d like to believe”
—Mr. Baxley takes off his glasses and pulls a small handkerchief from his breast pocket to wipe them—
Mr. Baxley: “in our final moments, we think of the people we love and what we leave behind. That it’s far too late for regrets.”
Abbey: “Being my dad’s daughter, I thought I was missing out on something all those years he kept me sheltered. But I’ve realized I’m not that girl.”
Saying it out loud is more cathartic than I expected. But it’s the truth. I’m not that girl. Speeding through the streets on the back of a motorcycle to parts unknown is fun and all, but I like my research and catching a rugby game on a Saturday afternoon. Being tucked away in a library late at night and grabbing a drink at the neighborhood pub. I like sitting at home reading on a rainy day. Watching movies on the couch. Dinner with friends. Simple things. Enjoying the company, not the chaos.
Abbey: “My biggest fear when I moved here was that I wouldn’t fit in. Wouldn’t find a home. But I have. You make it home.”
Emotion clogs my throat.
Abbey: “You screwed up, definitely. But I know it didn’t come from a bad place. I know who you are. And when I’m with you, I know who I am. I like who I am. I know I’m still young and have a lot more to learn, but I want to learn and grow and do all that stuff with you. I love you, Jack."
Abbey: “I’m sorry I took so long.”
Jack: “I would have waited,”
Jack whispers against my lips.
Jack: “As long as it took. You were always worth it.”
Turns out Jack’s mom was a superfan back in the day. Obsessed, actually. Charlie made a crack about their mom getting a shot at Gunner, and they proceeded to spend the week teasing us that Jack and I were going to end up stepsiblings if we let her near him.
Needless to say, Charlie isn’t my favorite brother.
#athlete #beta #firstlove #fishoutofwater #forbiddenlove #friendstolovers #friendswithbenefits #girlnextdoor #lovetriangle #new #playboy #roommates #secretidentity
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