“I said I don’t have time for a girlfriend,” he shoots back. “But guess what—priorities change.”

I falter. “So you’re saying you want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, maybe that’s what I’m saying.”

My teeth sink into my lower lip. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you want that?” I bite my lip harder. “You’re all one-track about hockey, remember? And besides, we argue too much.”

“We don’t argue. We bicker.”

“It’s the same thing.”

He rolls his eyes. “No, it’s not. Bickering is fun and good-natured. Arguing is—”

“Oh my God, we’re arguing about the way we argue!” I interrupt, unable to stop from laughing.

Garrett’s shoulders relax at the sound of my laughter. He takes a step toward me, searching my face. “I know you’re into me, Wellsy. And I’m definitely into you. Would it really be so bad if we made this thing official?”

I gulp again. I hate being put on the spot, and I’m too confused to make sense of anything right now. Acting on impulse isn’t something I do often. I never make decisions without giving them careful thought, and although other girls might break out in cartwheels at the thought of making things “official” with Garrett Graham, I’m more pragmatic than that. I didn’t expect to like this guy. Or to have sex with him. Or to be in the position where he might be my boyfriend.

“I don’t know,” I finally say. “I mean, I didn’t really think about you and me in terms of dating. I just wanted to…” My cheeks grow warm “…explore the attraction and see if…you know. But I didn’t think any farther ahead than that.” My confusion triples, turning my mind to mush. “I have no idea what this even is, or where it could go, or…”

As I trail off, I notice Garrett’s expression, and the hurt in his eyes cuts into me like a knife.

“You don’t know what this is or where it could go? Jesus, Hannah. If you…” He lets out a shaky breath, his broad shoulders sagging. “If you honestly don’t know, then we’re wasting our time. Because I know exactly what it is. I—” He halts so abruptly it gives me whiplash.

“You what?” I whisper.

“I—” He stops again. His gray eyes darken. “You know what? Forget it. I guess you’re right. This was all about exploring the attraction.” He sounds increasingly bitter. “I’m just your sex therapist, right? Actually, no, I’m your fucking fluffer.”

“Fluffer?” I say blankly.

“Like in porn,” he mutters. “They bring in the fluffer to suck off the dudes between takes so they stay hard.” Anger colors his tone. “That was my job, right? To get you nice and hot for Kohl? To get you ready to bone him?”

Indignation prickles my skin. “One, that’s disgusting. And two, that’s not fair and you know it.”

“I don’t know a damn thing, apparently.”

“He asked me out before I slept with you! And I probably wasn’t even going to go!”

Garrett barks out a harsh laugh. “You probably weren’t going to? Yeah. Thanks for that.” He takes a step to the door. “You know what? Just go on the damn date. You got what you wanted from me. I guess Justin can take it from here.”

“Garrett—”

But he’s already gone. Not just gone, but making his exit known as he slams my door, thuds through the suite, and slams that door too.

I stare at the empty space he was taking up a second ago.

I know exactly what it is.

Garrett’s hoarse words echo in my head, and a vise of emotion constricts my heart, because I’m pretty sure I know exactly what it is too.

And I’m scared that because of my split-second moment of indecision, I just threw it all away.

32

Garrett

The temperature seems to have dropped twenty degrees from when I walked into Bristol House to when I stormed out of it. A frigid gust of wind blasts me in the face and chills the tips of my ears as I trudge toward the parking lot.

See? This is why I avoid the whole girlfriend drama. I should be over the fucking moon tonight because the team crushed Harvard. Instead, I’m pissed off and frustrated and more upset than I expected to be. Hannah’s right—we were just fooling around. Same way I was fooling around with Kendall, or the chick before her, or the chick before that. I didn’t even bat an eye when I ended it with any of them, so why the hell am I so bummed right now?

Thank fuck I got out of there, though. I had been seconds away from making a complete fool of myself. Saying things I shouldn’t be saying, maybe even begging. Jesus. If that’s not a sign of some serious pussy-whipping right there then I don’t know what is.

I’m halfway to my Jeep when I hear Hannah call out my name.

My chest clenches. I turn around and see her racing down the path from Bristol to the lot. She’s still in her PJ’s—plaid pants and a black T-shirt with yellow music notes decaled on the front.

I’m tempted to keep walking, but the sight of her bare arms and cold-flushed cheeks pisses me off even more than our fight had. “Jesus Christ, Hannah,” I mutter when she reaches me. “You’re gonna catch a cold.”

“That’s a myth,” she shoots back. “Cold weather doesn’t cause colds.”