Hannah
“HEY, HAN-HAN.” ALLIE surprises me at work tonight, sliding into my booth with a beaming smile. When Sean slides in next to her, I have a tough time fighting a grin. They’re sitting on the same side of the booth? Whoa, they must be getting serious again, because only couples who are madly in love do that.
“’Sup, Hannah,” Sean says as he slings his arm around Allie’s slender shoulders.
“Hey.” I’ve been dealing with pain-in-the-ass customers all evening, so I’m genuinely happy to see some friendly faces. “You guys want something to drink while you look at the menu?”
“Chocolate milkshake, please,” Allie announces.
Sean holds up his index and middle fingers. “Two straws,” he adds with a wink.
I laugh. “God, you two are so sweet you’re giving me a toothache.”
But I’m happy to see them happy. For a frat boy, Sean is actually pretty decent, and he’s never fucked around on Allie, as far as I know. Their past breakups were always her decision—she’d thought they were too young to be so serious—and Sean had been infinitely patient with her every time.
I prepare their lovers milkshake, then deliver it to the booth with an extravagant bow. “Madam, monsieur.”
“Thanks, babe. Hey, so listen,” Allie says as Sean studies the menu. “Some of the girls on our floor are having a Ryan Gosling movie marathon tomorrow night.”
Sean groans. “Another Gosling fest? I don’t know what chicks see in that guy. He’s scrawny as shit.”
“He’s beautiful,” Allie corrects before glancing at me again. “You in?” “Depends what time.”
“Tracy’s got a late class, but she’ll be back by nine. So around then?”
“Shit. I’m tutoring at nine.”
Allie’s face clouds with disappointment. “Can’t you try to tutor earlier?” She wiggles her eyebrows as if trying to entice me. “Val’s making sangrias…”
I have to admit, I am enticed. It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with the girls or consumed anything alcoholic. I might not drink at parties (and for a damn good reason) but I don’t mind getting my buzz on every now and then.
“Let me call Garrett on my break. I’ll see if he’s free earlier.”
Sean looks up from the menu, interested in the conversation again. “So you and Graham are best buds now?”
“Naah. It’s just a tutor/tutoree relationship.”
“Nuh-uh,” Allie teases. She turns to her boyfriend. “They’re totally friends. They text and everything.”
“Fine. We’re friends,” I say grudgingly. When Sean gives me a knowing grin, I promptly scowl at him. “Just friends. So banish all those dirty thoughts from your mind.”
“Oh come on, can you really blame me? He’s the captain of the hockey team and he goes through girls faster than he goes through a roll of toilet paper. You know everyone’s gonna think you’re his next conquest.”
“They can think whatever they want.” I offer a little shrug. “But it’s not like that with us.”
Sean seems unconvinced, which I chalk up to being a guy thing. I doubt there’s a guy out there who believes that men and women are capable of being purely platonic.
I leave Allie and Sean and tend to my other customers. When my break rolls around, I pop into the staff room in the back to call Garrett. The dial tone goes on forever before he finally answers, his gruff “hello” overpowered by the loud music in the background.
“Hey, it’s Hannah,” I tell him.
“I know. I have Caller ID, dumbass.”
“I was calling to see if we can change our tutoring time for tomorrow.” A swell of hip-hop blasts into my ear. “Sorry, what?”
I raise my voice so he can hear me better. “Can we meet up earlier tomorrow? I’ve got plans at nine, so I was hoping I could come by around seven. Is that cool?”
His response is drowned out by the deafening pounding of Jay-Z. “Where are you?” I’m practically shouting now.
“Home,” comes his muffled response. “We invited a few people over to watch the game.”
A few people? It sounds like he’s in the middle of Times Square. “So you’re coming at nine?”
I swallow my aggravation. “No, at seven. Is that okay?”
“Garrett, beer me!” a voice ripples over the line. Judging by the faint Texas drawl, it must be Tucker.
“Hold on, Wellsy. One sec.” A rustling meets my ear, followed by a howl of laughter, and then Garrett comes back. “Okay, tomorrow at nine then.”
“Seven!”
“Right, seven. Sorry, I can’t hear you at all. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He hangs up on me, but I don’t care. I’ve discovered this past week that Garrett never takes the time to say goodbye on the phone. It annoyed me at first, but now I sort of appreciate his time-saving approach.
I shove my phone in my apron and reenter the main room to tell Allie I’m good to go for tomorrow night, and she squeals in response. “Yay! I can’t wait to get my Gosling on. Hottest. Guy. Ever.”
“I’m sitting right here, you know,” Sean grumbles. “Babe, have you seen that man’s abs?” she demands. He sighs.
THE FOLLOWING NIGHT, I show up at Garrett’s house at seven o’clock sharp and let myself in as usual. Before I head upstairs, I poke my head into the living room to say hi to Logan and the guys. Logan’s not there, but Tuck and Dean are, and they glance up in confusion when they spot me.
“Hey, Wellsy.” Tucker wrinkles his forehead. “Whatcha doing here?” “Tutoring your captain, what else?” Rolling my eyes, I start to edge
away from the doorway.
“You don’t want to go up there, baby doll,” Dean calls out. I stop in my tracks. “Why not?”
His light-green eyes gleam in amusement. “Uh…he might have forgotten.”
“Well, then I’ll go up and remind him.”
A minute later, I completely regret that course of action.
“Yo, Graham, let’s get this over with so I can—” I halt midsentence, freezing like a deer in headlights after I open the door.
Embarrassment slams into me when I register what I’m seeing.
Garrett is lying on the bed in all his bare-chested glory…while a naked girl straddles his thighs.
Yep, Miss Thang is buck-naked, and she whirls around in a cloud of blond hair at the sound of my voice. Perky breasts assault my vision, but I don’t have time to judge them one way or the other because her ear-piercing screech cuts through the air.
“What the hell!”
“Shit. I’m so sorry,” I blurt out.
Then I slam the door and race downstairs like I’m being chased by a serial killer.
When I stumble into the living room a moment later, I’m greeted by two grinning faces. “We told you not to go up there,” Tucker says with a sigh.
Dean’s grin widens. “How was the show? We can’t hear much from down here, but I have a feeling she’s a screamer.”
I’m so mortified that my cheeks feel like they’re burning from the inside out. “Can you tell your slutty friend to call me when he’s done? Actually, no. Tell him he’s out of luck. My time is precious, damn it. I’m not tutoring him anymore when he obviously doesn’t take my schedule seriously.”
With that, I march out of the house, my emotions alternating between embarrassment and anger. Unbelievable. How is fooling around with some girl more important to him than passing his midterm? And what kind of jerk would do that when he knows I’m coming over?
I’m halfway to Tracy’s car when the front door bursts open, and Garrett rushes out. He at least had the decency to put on a pair of jeans, but he’s still not wearing a shirt. Or shoes, for that matter. He hurries over to me, his expression a mixture of sheepish and annoyed. “What the hell was that?” he demands.
“Are you kidding me?” I retort. “I should be asking you that question.
You knew I was coming over!” “You said nine!”
“I changed it to seven, and you know it.” My lips twist in a scowl. “Maybe next time you should pay more attention to me when I call you.”
He rakes a hand through his short hair, and his biceps bulge as he does it. The cold air causes goose bumps to rise on his smooth, golden skin, and my gaze is unwittingly drawn to the thin line of hair that arrows toward his unbuttoned waistband.
At the sight, an odd flicker of heat travels from my breasts to my core. My body suddenly feels tight and achy, my fingers tingling with the urge to…oh, for fuck’s sake. No. So what if the guy is totally cut? That doesn’t mean I want to ride him like a cowgirl.
He already has someone else doing that to him. “I’m sorry, okay?” he grumbles. “I screwed up.”
“No, not okay. One, you clearly don’t respect my time, and two, you clearly don’t want to pass this class, otherwise your pants would be zipped and your textbook would be open.”
“Oh really?” he challenges. “So you expect me to believe that you study twenty-four-seven and never hook up with anyone?”
Discomfort churns in my stomach, and when I don’t answer, suspicion floods his eyes. “You do hook up, don’t you?”
An irritable breath escapes my lips. “Of course I do. Just…not in a while.”
“What’s a while?”
“A year. Not that it’s any of your business.” I set my jaw and unlock the driver’s door. “Go back to your floozy, Garrett. I’m going home.”
“Floozy?” he echoes. “That’s a rude assumption, don’t you think? She could be a Rhodes scholar, for all you know.”
I raise one eyebrow. “Is she?”
“Well, no,” he relents. “But Tiffany—”
I snort. Tiffany. Of course her name is Tiffany. “—is a very smart girl,” he finishes darkly.
“Uh-huh, I’m sure she is. Go back to Ms. Smart then. I’m outta here.” “Can we reschedule for tomorrow?”
I open the car door. “No.”
“Is that so?” He clamps his hand over the doorframe. “Then I guess our date on Saturday is off too?”
He stares at me.
I stare right back.
But we both know he won’t be the one backing down.
I suddenly flash back to the conversation I had with Justin in the hallway the other day. My cheeks heat up again, but this time it has nothing to do with the fact that I just caught Garrett with his pants down. Literally. Justin has finally acknowledged my existence, and if I bail on this party, I’ll be passing up the opportunity to talk to him outside of school. It’s not like we travel in the same circles, so unless I want to limit myself to a once-a- week interaction in Ethics, I need to be proactive and seek him out away from the lecture hall.
“Fine,” I mumble to Garrett. “I’ll see you tomorrow. At seven.”
His mouth curves in a self-satisfied smile. “That’s what I thought.”
