“What did you guys talk about?” I ask, and hope she doesn’t hear the edge in my voice.

Hannah shrugs. “Class. Football. The showcase. He asked me if I want to have coffee sometime and study for Ethics together.”

Uh, what?

“Are you shitting me?” I burst out. “He’s macking on my date right in front of me?”

Amusement dances in her eyes. “We’re not actually together, Garrett.”

“He doesn’t know that.” I can’t control the anger simmering in my gut. “You don’t hit on another man’s date. Period. That’s a dick move.”

A frown touches her lips.

I eye her. “Would you want to go out with a guy who does something that shady?”

“No,” she admits after a long beat. “But…” She appears to be thinking it over. “There wasn’t anything overtly sexual about the invitation. If he was hitting on me, he would’ve asked me to dinner. Coffee and studying can be construed as a friend thing.”

She could be right, but I know how guys think. That son of a bitch was hitting on her in plain sight of the guy she came to the party with.

Dick. Move.

“Garrett…” Her voice becomes wary. “You know that kiss didn’t mean anything, right?”

The question catches me off guard. “Uh. Yeah. Of course I know that.”

“Because we’re just friends…right?”

The pointed note in her tone irks, but I know now is not the time to argue about this. Whatever this is.

So I nod and say, “Right.”

Relief floats through her eyes. “Good. Okay, well, maybe we should go. I think we’ve done enough mingling.”

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

“Let’s just say bye to Beau first. You know, I really like that guy. He’s not at all what I expected…”

She continues to chatter my ear off as we go back to the living room, but I don’t hear a single word. I’m too busy dealing with the truth bomb that’s just been dropped on my head.

Yes, Hannah and I are friends. In fact, she’s the only female friend I’ve ever had. And yes, I want to keep being Hannah’s friend.

But…

I also want to sleep with her.

18

Hannah

I’ve been neglecting my friends since I started tutoring Garrett, but now that he’s written the midterm, my free time belongs to me again. So the night after Beau Maxwell’s party, I meet up with the usual suspects at the campus coffeehouse, excited to reconnect with everyone. And it’s obvious they missed me just as hard.

“Han-Han!” Dexter jumps out of his chair and pulls me into a bear hug. And when I say bear hug, I mean it, because Dex is a giant of a guy. I always tease him that he looks exactly like the kid from The Blind Side and should therefore be playing linebacker for the football team, but Dex doesn’t have an athletic bone in his body. He’s a music major like me, and trust me, the dude can sing.

Megan is the next one to greet me, and as usual, a smartass remark pops out of her smartass mouth. “Were you abducted by aliens?” she demands even as she hugs me so tightly I can hardly breathe. “I hope the answer to that is yes and that they anal-probed you for ten hours straight, because you deserve it for ignoring me for more than a week.”

I laugh at the vivid picture she’s painted. “I know. I’m a total shit. But I had a tutoring gig this week and it’s kept me busy.”

“Oh, we all know who’s been keeping you busy,” Stella pipes up from her seat next to Dex. “Garrett Graham, Han? Really?”

I stifle a sigh. “Who told you? Allie?”

Stella rolls her eyes in the most theatrical fashion. I think it’s a drama student thing—it’s like they can’t say a solitary word or make a single gesture without hamming it up. “Of course she did. Unlike you, Allie doesn’t keep any secrets from us.”

“Oh, shut it. I’ve just been busy with tutoring and rehearsal. And whatever Allie said about Garrett, it’s not true.” I unzip my winter coat and drape it over the empty chair beside Meg’s. “I’m helping him pass Ethics. That’s all.”

Meg’s boyfriend Jeremy wiggles his eyebrows at me over the rim of his coffee mug. “You know this makes you the enemy now, right?”

“Aw, come on,” I protest. “That’s just mean.”

“Says the traitor,” teases Meg. “How dare you fraternize with a meathead? How. Dare. You.”

I can see from their playful expressions that it’s all in good fun. Or at least it is before Garrett texts me.

My phone meows, and I grin the second I pull it out of my purse.

Garrett: U totally should’ve come to the post-game party tonite. Some chick just dumped a pitcher of beer over Dean’s head.

I snort out loud and shoot back a quick text, because I have to know more.

Me: OMG. Why? (tho I’m sure he deserved it).

Him: Guess he forgot to tell her they weren’t exclusive.

Me: Of course. Men.

Him: Men…finish that sentence…Men are awesome? Thanks, baby. I accept this award on behalf of all of us.

Me: The award for biggest douchebag? Yeah, you’re the perfect spokesman.

Him: Awwww. I’m hurt. I’m not a DB :(

The notion that I might have hurt his feelings causes guilt to trickle through me.

Me: You’re right. You’re not. I’m sorry. :(