The Play (Briar U, #3)(22)

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he told me it was Jax. We must be talking about different dudes.”

This guy’s unreal.

TJ gives a soft snicker. Apparently even he isn’t immune to Hunter’s weird appeal.

Andrews commences the morning’s lecture, which is an overview of personality disorders. Excellent. I’m happy we’re starting off with PDs. I’m still trying to diagnose my fictional patient, and based on the notes I made during our first session I suspect I’m dealing with a personality issue.

He could be a sociopath, but the characteristic apathy was missing. Antisocial or narcissistic personality disorders are still on the table, and maybe borderline too, although Hunter hadn’t described any mood swings or impulsive behavior, unless you count adultery. But his fake cheating came off as incredibly calculated and not at all impulsive. Hopefully he gives me more to work with in our next session.

Halfway through class, my phone vibrates.

PAX: Partied too hard last night and overslept. Take notes for me!





My nosy seatmate Hunter peers over my shoulder. “Is that Jax?”

“No, it’s Pax.”

“Agree to disagree.”

I fight a smile and turn my attention back to Professor Andrews. She’s discussing a case involving antisocial personality disorder she once encountered and how she reached the diagnosis. I’m obsessed with this course.

After class, TJ links an arm through mine and says, “Want to grab a quick coffee?”

“Actually”—I glance at Hunter—“maybe we could work on the project for a bit? I’m not meeting Nico till one thirty.”

He shrugs. “Sure, let’s do it. I’m done for the day.”

“Rain check on that coffee,” I assure TJ, giving his arm a squeeze.

“No prob. Text me later.”

As TJ ambles off, Hunter stares after him, shaking his head ruefully. “Poor guy.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, poor guy. He’s got a major crush on you, but he’s so deep in the friend zone it’d take the same rescue team that dug out the Chilean miners to save him. And even then I think they’d fail.”

“He doesn’t have a crush on me,” I insist. What is everyone seeing that I’m not? “I’ve had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known him.”

“So? I’ve had crushes on lots of chicks with boyfriends. My dick doesn’t discriminate.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I say dryly.

“What does that mean?” he mimics.

“It means in the one measly week I’ve known you, you already hooked up with three different women. Congrats, your penis must be extremely pleased.”

“Oh, trust me, my penis is nowhere close to pleased.” He runs a hand through his dark hair. “You want to go to your house?”

“Why don’t we find a nice spot on the quad?” I suggest. “It’s such a gorgeous day.”

“Lead the way, Semi.”

We follow the wide stone path toward one of the many manicured lawns that make up Briar’s campus. We’re not the only ones taking advantage of the warm weather. There are several picnics in progress, a soccer ball being kicked around, and a game of Frisbee being played in the distance.

We stop underneath a towering tree, its branches drooping over one side like a waterfall. It provides a small pocket of shade, broken up by rays of sunlight that slice through the gaps in the branches. Normally I’d plop right down on the grass, but my short skirt is a shade of beige that won’t hide any potential grass stains.

I peer down at the ground. Well, this is a dilemma.

“Hold up there, girly girl.” To my surprise, big tough Hockey Man strips out of his long-sleeved shirt, leaving himself in a tight wife-beater. He stretches the thin material of his shirt out on the grass. “My lady,” he says graciously.

“Aw, thanks. That was surprisingly nice of you.” I sit down, then lean back on my elbows and tip my head to gaze at the canopy of green above me.

“Why surprisingly?” Hunter demands.

“You didn’t strike me as the chivalrous type.”

“So you thought I was an asshole? Also, why do you think I’m hooking up with three chicks?” He sounds genuinely confused.

“Oh come on, don’t play dumb.” I proceed to tick them off with my fingers. “The girl who brought you lunch last week and practically begged you to love her. The one you were dancing with at Malone’s. The one today, with the blonde hair and supermodel face…?”

Hunter starts to laugh. It’s a deep husky sound that tickles my ears. “I’m not hooking up with any of them. They’re my roommates.”

“Your roommates?” I echo doubtfully.

“Yeah. The loud one is dating one of my friends, the blonde is dating another one of my friends, and the brunette from the bar has a boyfriend. And I live with all three of them.”

“You live with three women?”

“Originally it was me, Hollis and Fitz, but they both graduated and somehow it was decided that Summer, Rupi, and Brenna would move in. No house meeting, no discussion, nothing. Nobody even asked for my opinion. Not that I’m complaining.”

“You are complaining.”