Like how warm his lips felt when they touched mine.

Or how he slid his hand under my dress and nearly put it between my legs.

Or the sheer relief that crashed over me when he moved that hand, because if he hadn’t, I would’ve been revealed as a liar. I wasn’t dry as a desert, like I’d mocked. I was wetter than I’d ever been. In that moment, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anybody more.

And that is not good. Not good at all. Jake is too unpredictable. I can never figure out what he’s thinking, what he’s going to say or do next, and that’s unacceptable to me. How are you supposed to protect yourself when you don’t fully understand a person’s motives?

“I repeat, she sounds like a bitch…” Summer wags a piece of bacon at me. “Just saying.”

“It’s that toxic relationship she has with Lamar. She didn’t used to be this selfish.” I pour maple syrup on my second pancake. “I hate saying this, but I really hope they break up.”

Summer takes a sip of her herbal tea. “Well, the good news is, you’re home now, and I’m going to make sure you finish your weekend off right. Do you want to come to Malone’s with us tonight and watch the Bruins game?”

“Definitely.” I swallow a bite of my pancake.

“And I can help you practice for your follow-up interview if you want. That’s tomorrow morning?”

I nod. “It’ll probably be as crappy as the first one.”

“Don’t say that. Positivity breeds positivity, Bee.”

“Did you just make up that saying?”

“Yes. And you know what else?”

“Negativity breeds negativity?” I supply.

“That, too. But what I was going to say is, I’ve decided I’m lending you my Prada boots to wear tomorrow. The black suede ones my grandmother sent me. They’ll bring you good luck.”

“Uh-huh. You have scientific proof of that?”

“You want proof? It’s called Prada. Fucking Prada, Bee. Nobody can wear Prada and not feel invincible.”

I still can’t grasp how I became best friends with this girl. Summer is the complete opposite of me. Bubbly, girly, obsessed with designer clothes. Her family is filthy rich, so she can afford those designer clothes. But me, I’ve never cared about labels. Give me my lipstick, my favorite leather jacket and boots, some skinny jeans and a tight dress or two, and I’m good to go. And yet despite our differences, Summer and I just…fit.

“Oh, and I confirmed with Fitz before I got here—he can drive me to campus in the morning, so you’re good to borrow my car.” Summer drives a flashy Audi, and she offered to let me drive it to Boston tomorrow, sparing me from taking a million trains and buses. At noon I’ve got a Communication Theory lecture that I can’t miss, so I need to return to Hastings as fast as possible.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” She picks up her teacup.

“Thanks. You have no idea how much time you’ll be saving me by—”

“Hi!!!” a happy voice interrupts.

Before I can blink, a whirlwind of brown hair and luminous skin and big, big eyes streaks across my field of vision.

A girl I’ve never met in my life slides into our booth next to Summer and plops her butt down as if we’ve all been friends for years.

Summer’s jaw drops. “I’m sorry…what…” She drifts off, speechless. A rare state for Summer Di Laurentis.

I sweep my gaze over the newcomer. She’s wearing a white, collared shirt with red buttons. Waves of chin-length hair hover over the lacy collar.

“Hello,” I say politely. “I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the word etiquette, but typically it means you can’t crash someone’s brunch, particularly when they don’t know who you are.”

“It’s okay. You’re about to know me.” She smiles broadly, flashing a set of perfect white teeth. She’s rather cute, actually.

But just because someone is cute doesn’t mean they’re not insane.

“I’m Rupi. Rupi Miller. And yes, that’s a Hindi first name and a completely white-bread last name, but that’s ’cause my dad is super white bread. He’s really, really bland. He’s a dentist, you guys. Like, the definition of boring. My mom is awesome, though. She used to be a huge Bollywood star!” Rupi’s tone ripples with pride.

Beside her, Summer blinks in confusion. “That’s really great…” Her voice trails again.

I bite back a laugh. “Rupi?”

The girl beams at me. “Yes?”

“Why are you in our booth?”

“Oh. Sorry. I talk a lot, I know. Let me start over. I’m Rupi, and you’re Brenna Jensen and you’re Summer Heyward-Di Laurentis.”

“Yes, thank you for informing us of our names,” I say dryly

Summer finally remembers how to finish a sentence. “Don’t be mean to Rupi,” she chides, and I can tell by her twinkling green eyes that she’s warming up to this pushy little girl.

“I’m a freshman,” Rupi explains. “I know, that sounds lame, but I swear I’m not. Lame, that is. I’m so much fun—you’ll find out, I promise. But the thing is, I don’t really have a lot of connections with the upperclassmen. Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you or anything. I was sitting over there with my friends when I noticed you guys. That’s Lindy and Mel.” She points to two girls sitting a few booths down the row. One of them is blushing profusely, while the other gives an enthusiastic wave.

I spare them a look before turning back to Rupi. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re interrupting our brunch.”

“I wanted to put in a formal request,” she announces.

“A formal request for what?” Summer sputters.

“I want an introduction.”

My brow wrinkles. “To whom?”

“Mike Hollis.”

I set my fork down.

Summer puts down her tea.

Several seconds tick by.

“Mike Hollis?” Summer finally says.

“Yes. He’s your roommate,” Rupi replies helpfully.

I snicker.

“I’m aware that he’s my roommate.” Summer shakes her head. “But why on earth do you want an introduction? To him.”

Rupi releases a long, dreamy sigh. “Because he’s the most beautiful man in the world, and I think he’s my soul mate, and I’d like to be introduced to him.”

Another silence falls. I’m not one to declare anything a hundred percent, so I’ll say I’m ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine percent certain that this is the first time in the history of the planet that anyone, at any time, has referred to Hollis as the most beautiful man in the world and/or as someone’s soul mate.

Summer appears to be as stunned as I feel. But we both recover fast, sharing a telepathic moment that brings a grin the size of Boston to Summer’s lips. She pats Rupi’s arm and says, “I would be honored to make that introduction.”

“Actually, I’ll do you one better,” I chime in. “I’ll give you his phone number, and you can contact him directly.”