Dean

“WHERE IS SHE?” I muscle my way past Garrett before he can even fully open the door. My gaze darts around the common room, but Allie isn’t in here. Wellsy is, and she immediately shoots to her feet when she sees me.

“She’s in her room—”

I charge forward, only to be intercepted by the petite brunette. “Hold on a second,” Hannah orders, planting her palm against my chest. “You’re not seeing her until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

“You tell me,” I snap impatiently. “You’re the one who called me at one

a.m. and told me to come over because Allie needs me. What happened?” “Sean showed up,” Garrett says grimly. “Drunk and pounding on the

door and demanding to talk to her. I let him in—” “You let him in?” I roar.

“She told me to,” he mutters. “Said she could handle him.”

Hannah speaks up angrily. “You should’ve heard the way he was shouting her. Calling her a slut and saying she has STDs—”

What the fuck?

Fury sizzles up my spine, ripped from my throat in the form of a menacing growl. “Get out of my way,” I tell Hannah.

“Dean,” she protests as I sprint toward the short hallway. “What are you even doing here—”

The thump of my footsteps drowns out the rest of that sentence. I burst into Allie’s bedroom, then skid to a stop when I find her curled up on the bed. She lifts her head at my entrance, and the desolate look in her big blue eyes shreds my heart to pieces.

“Baby,” I say softly.

A startled gasp sounds from the door. Gritting my teeth, I spin on my heel and proceed to slam the door in Hannah and Garrett’s astonished faces. They don’t exist to me right now. Only Allie does, and I’m on the bed

before she can blink, drawing her into my arms and cocooning her in them. She buries her face against my chest, and I can feel her trembling.

“What happened?”

“Sean was here.” The answer is muffled against my hoodie.

“I know, G told me. But why was he here?” A curse slips out when I remember our run-in with Paulson this morning. “His frat brother… Paulson told him he saw us together?”

Her nod bumps her head on my collarbone.

“Asshole,” I mutter. Then I take a breath and smooth my hand over her silky hair. “I take it Sean was pissed?”

“He…” Her voice cracks. “He called me a disease-ridden whore.”

Red-hot fury slams into me like a crosscheck to the chest. It takes every ounce of strength to push it away, to banish it from my body. I want to kill the bastard for saying that to her.

“You…are not…” I take another breath “…a disease-ridden whore. Do you hear me, baby? You are not that. Ever. I don’t know why that son of a bitch would even—”

“Because of you,” she whispers.

My hands clench into fists against her shoulders. “What?”

“He thinks you’re riddled with STDs because you…have an active sex life—”

“I’m clean,” I interrupt. My voice is low, rippling with anxiety. Fuck, I really hope she believes me right now. “I’ve never had unprotected sex in my life, Allie. I got tested before the season started, but I can do it again if you—” I stop. Fuck that. I’ll do it even if she doesn’t ask me to, just to squash any seed of doubt that piece of shit Sean might have planted in her head.

“I trust you, Dean. I know you’re safe, okay? It wasn’t the disease part that upset me. It was the other part. The way he looked at me…” Her small body shudders. “He was so disgusted. It’s like in that moment, he truly saw me as a whore and he hated me for it.”

The fissure in my heart cracks wide open, sending jagged shards to my gut. Sean should be thanking his lucky stars he’s not here right now. I want to wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze the life out of him.

“Baby…” I swallow my rage. “Baby, look at me.” She slowly raises her eyes to mine.

“I don’t give a shit what Sean says, or what he thinks—you didn’t do a goddamn thing to deserve his verbal attack, you got it? You’re not a whore. You’re…” Perfect, I almost say, but I don’t get the chance, because she’s trembling again.

“Then why do I feel like one?” She blinks rapidly, as if she’s trying not to cry. “God. I hate this. I told you, I’m not cut out for casual sex.”

My palms grow damp. I don’t want her to continue. I’m too terrified of what she’s going to say.

“I’m not sure I can do this anymore.” Fuck.

“It’s too confusing…sleeping with you when we’re not actually together

—”

“We’re together,” I bite out. She startles. “What?”

It feels like someone jammed a handful of gravel in my throat. I gulp

through it. “We’re together,” I repeat. She looks baffled. “We…why?”

“Because we are.” A nonsensical response, but it’s all I’ve got. I don’t want this to end. I can’t explain why, but I just know I don’t want this to fucking end.

“You want…” The groove in her forehead deepens. “You want to be with me?”

My heartbeat grows erratic. I haven’t had a conversation like this with a girl in years. Not since Miranda. But Allie isn’t Miranda. Allie is…she’s… fuck, I can’t make sense of my jumbled thoughts. Except for one. The bone- deep certainty that I can’t let this end.

“Dean?”

I tighten my hold on her, burying my face in the crook of her neck. “I want to be with you,” I mumble. “So that means we’re fucking together, okay?”

Shaky laughter tickles my cheek. “You’re freaking me out right now.” “I’m freaking myself out.” Groaning, I lift my head and cup her delicate

chin with both hands. “Why did you ask Wellsy to call me?”

Allie falters. “Because…” She bites her lip. “Because I wanted you to tell me that Sean is wrong. Because I needed…” She stumbles again, as if

she’s as freaked out by this as I am. Her uncertainty only makes me more certain.

I rub my thumb along the seam of her lips, soothing the tiny indentation she made with her teeth. “You want it too. To be with me?”

She’s quiet for so long that I’m nervous again. Then she nods.

“Tell me why,” I say gruffly. “I need to know it’s not just because casual sex makes you feel slutty. That it’s not just because you’re insecure about everything Sean said.”

Allie slowly runs one hand over my cheek. “It’s not.” Her fingertips scrape the bristles of stubble on my jaw. “I want to be with you because it feels right.”

The tension in my chest dissipates, replaced by a strange rush of warmth I couldn’t explain if I tried. We don’t speak after that. Which is equally strange, this long inexplicable silence that doesn’t need to be filled. I release her only so I can peel my sweater off, kick away my jeans. I reach out and click the bedside lamp.

Darkness falls over us. Allie gets under the covers. Without a word, she shifts over so there’s room for me.

I slide in behind her, curling one arm around her slender body and drawing her closer. She makes a contented noise and snuggles her ass to my groin, her back to my chest. Her hair tickles my chin. I fall asleep to the sound of her soft breathing and the steady beating of her heart beneath my palm.

*

HANNAH AND GARRETT are in the small kitchenette when I emerge from Allie’s room the next morning. They’re holding the most ridiculous pink mugs—Wellsy’s has “ALLIE’S BFF!” scrawled on the front in a purple script font. Garrett’s says “HAN-HAN’S BFF!”

I smother a laugh. Why do I get the feeling the custom mugs were Allie’s doing?

Since I expected a cross-examination, I’m not surprised when they attack the moment they notice me.

“What kind of game are you playing with my best friend?”

“I specifically told you to keep your dick away from her, man.”

I follow the aroma of freshly brewed coffee to the narrow counter. It’s not even nine o’clock. I’m not awake enough to have this conversation yet.

Unfortunately, my pointed effort to ignore them has no effect. They keep firing questions at me as I pour myself some coffee.

“How long has this been going on?” “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?” “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“This is going to ruin our whole group dynamic, you know.”

“You think so?” Hannah’s attention is on Garrett now. “If it’s just a fling, it probably won’t change anything.”

“Your girl doesn’t do flings, babe. She’s a nester.”

It’s the same observation I’d made about Allie on the drive to New York, but hearing Garrett dissect the sexual habits of the girl I’m dating raises my hackles.

The girl I’m dating. Jesus. Never thought I’d be saying that. But it’s the way it is, and I’ve decided to roll with it.

“Hey, I have an idea.” I lean against the counter and stare at them over the rim of my mug. “How ’bout you guys mind your own business?”

Wellsy’s jaw drops. Garrett’s eyebrows soar.

A choked laugh comes from the hallway. A moment later, Allie saunters into the main room. “Morning,” she says casually.

There’s a beat. “Morning,” Hannah answers.

Allie approaches the counter and picks up the coffee pot. When she leans on her tiptoes to grab a mug from the top cupboard, I can’t help but give her jutting ass a little smack.

Hannah glares at me. Garrett shakes his head.

“What?” My expression is innocent.

Allie sips her coffee, then wraps both hands around the mug and addresses the room. “Okay. Real talk, guys.” She glances at Hannah. “Dean and I are together. There. It’s out in the open. You may now commence with the questions.”

Hannah’s mouth stays closed. For someone who’d had questions galore only minutes ago, her silence is surprising. Worrying. Her troubled green

eyes tell me she’s not happy with this new arrangement.

“No? Nothing you want me to say?” Allie lifts the mug to her lips. “All righty then.”

I hide a smile and turn to Garrett. “Hunter and I have an hour of ice time today. Coach signed off on it. You want to come?”

He rubs a hand over his jaw, scratching the dark stubble there. “You still giving Davenport pointers? Working one-on-one?”

I nod. “He’s eager, works hard. But I think some tips from another forward will do him some good.”

Garrett nods back. “Sure, I’ll tag along. Wouldn’t mind working with him on penalty killing. He made too many mistakes during that Burlington power play yesterday.”

“At least we won the damn game.” “True. Our record still blows, though.”

“It’s a fucking bummer, man. My Hurricanes have a better record, and they’re frickin’ middle-schoolers.”

“Your Hurricanes?” He grins. “Dude, admit it. You’re in love with those kidlets.”

“Fuck off. I just have fun coaching—”

“You both need to go!” Wellsy announces, a mix of annoyance and exasperation on her face.

Garrett is visibly hurt. “You’re kicking me out?”

“I’m sorry, babe. I love you with all my heart but it’s time for some girl talk, and last I checked, you don’t have a vagina. Therefore, you need to go.” She scowls at me. “You too, Dean.”

I know better than to argue with Hannah Wells when she’s set her mind to something. She wants us gone, then gone we shall be.

I drain the rest of my coffee, place the empty cup in the sink, and glance at Allie. “I’ll call you later?”

“Yep.” She walks up and gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek, but there’s no way I’m leaving without something a little more substantial. Capturing her chin in my hand, I tip her head back and press my mouth to hers. The kiss I give her is deep and hungry, involving a helluva lot of tongue, and lasting long enough to make Hannah squawk.

“Okay, enough!” she orders.

As Allie and I break apart, I toss a grin in Wellsy’s direction. “Oh, relax, baby doll. It’s just a little French kissing between me and my girl. Nobody died.”

Hannah’s mouth falls open. Then she points to the door and growls, “Out.”

*

Allie

“HIS GIRL?” HANNAH says the moment Dean and Garrett are out the door. “Explain yourself, Allison. I mean it. Explain. Yourself.”

I swallow some more caffeine. I need to jumpstart my brain if we’re going to have this conversation right now. Though honestly, I’m not sure I can explain myself. I can’t make heads or tails of this Dean thing either.

I guess I’m his girl?

Which means he’s my guy? Because we’re a couple now?

Bottom line: I did not expect last night to end the way it did. After the way Sean completely lost it and treated me like a clump of dog shit under his shoe, I should’ve been ready to swear off all men, and somehow I wound up with a boyfriend. Life is fascinating sometimes.

“When did this happen?” Hannah’s voice softens as she searches my face. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrug awkwardly. “I was embarrassed.” “Why would you be embarrassed?”

Sighing, I carry my coffee cup to the sofa and sink down on it. I tuck my legs under me and wait for Hannah to join me. “Because…because it’s Dean. Dean Di Laurentis, the biggest player we know.” I feel bad saying it, but I’ve always been honest with Hannah. “He’s annoying and ridiculous and totally not my type.”

Or at least that’s what I used to believe, before I got to know him. Sure, he’s still annoying and ridiculous more often than not, but there’s so much more to Dean than I ever could’ve imagined.

Hannah purses her lips. “All right. Start from the beginning. When did this happen?”

“When do you think?” I say wryly. “The night I stayed over at their house.”

Her face pales. “Oh God. So this is my fault? I did this to you?”

I burst out laughing. “No, I did it to myself. I got drunk and wound up in his bed. It’s all on me.”

“And now you guys are together?” She looks flabbergasted. “How is that even possible? You said so yourself—he’s the biggest player we know. Why would you ever agree to date him?”

“Because I like him,” I say simply.

“Are you sure we’re not dealing with a rebound situation here?”

I shrug. “It might have started as one. I can’t deny that Dean’s attention made me feel good. It was…different than Sean’s attention. Sean always needed me but in ways that I could never satisfy. Nothing I did was good enough for him. I was always making him angry and disappointing him, and a part of me knew we weren’t right for each other, but…I like being in a relationship.” Those last words hang between us like a giant anvil. I don’t even have to look at Hannah to anticipate her next question.

“You sure you aren’t rushing into a relationship because you need to be in one?” Her skepticism is digging a hole into what felt right last night, what even felt right this morning.

Stricken, I look at her. “I don’t know. I tried to tell Dean no. After the first night we had sex”—mind blowing, unforgettable, can’t-stop-thinking- about-it sex—“he kept calling and texting begging for round two and I kept putting him off until it seemed stupid. I wanted him and he wanted me, so why not?”

“But you couldn’t keep it just sex?”

I groan. “I tried, I really did, but I’m not wired that way, Han-Han. And I don’t know how it happened, but I started enjoying more than just his magical dick.” She snickers, but I keep going. “He’s good to me. He’s a great listener. He’s fun to be around. The sex is off-the-charts amazing.”

Wait, did I just put sex fourth on that list? Apparently so. But that’s because…well, because sex isn’t the first thing I think of anymore when I think of Dean. We’ve come a long way from just being two sweaty bodies on an orgasm quest. We’ve watched a French soap opera where, between

us, we only understand every third word. We’ve danced together. We’ve hung out. He met my high school friend. He met my dad—

“And he’s the first person you want to talk to when you’re upset,” Hannah adds shrewdly.

I press my lips together. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t deny what happened last night. My first instinct was to get Dean’s arms around me, as if he was the only person who could make it all better. And he did. He soothed my hurt pride, my wounded feelings, and held me all night long. I wouldn’t have slept a minute last night if he hadn’t come over.

“Are you worried he’s going to hurt me?” I ask with a sigh.

Hannah rubs the rim of her coffee cup a few times before answering. “No. I think I may need to worry about Dean. He’s never rushed to anyone’s side before. I’m not saying he’s selfish. He’s a good friend, but I know Garrett would call Logan before he’d call Dean.”

“I don’t know why,” I say irritably. “Dean would give anyone the shirt off his back. No questions asked.”

“Logan’s reliable.”

“And Dean isn’t? Just because he’s a little sex-obsessed doesn’t make him unreliable!” A few lukewarm drops of coffee spill out as I slam the cup on the table.

Hannah bursts out laughing, her unwelcome sounds following me into the kitchen where I grab a few paper towels to clean up my mess.

“What’s so funny?” I demand, tossing the damp towels in the trash.

“You and your needless defense of Dean.” She rises from the sofa and joins me in the kitchen, giving my shoulder a small squeeze. “Look, if you want to be with Dean, then be with Dean. I’m just worried because you don’t sleep with guys just for funsies. I’m not saying that sleeping with him right after breaking up with Sean is wrong or dishonorable in any way. It’s just not you.”

I sag against the counter. “I know it’s not me. I keep telling myself that, but…I really like being with him, damn it.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“No. I don’t have that squishy feeling when it comes to him. Not like I had with…” I trail off. I was going to say not like I had with Sean but I can’t remember the last time I felt soft and warm toward Sean. The only

feelings I remember having are ones of restraint, irritation, impatience, and, last night, hurt.

Hannah shoves a new cup of coffee in my hand. “Stop overthinking it and just see where it goes.