The Play (Briar U, #3)(91)

“You’re just saying that because you cut everybody slack. You’re a surfer dude—your whole life is slack.”

He laughs, which trips up his even breathing for a second. He inhales deeply and resumes lifting. When he’s done with his set, I put the bar back in place and give him a second to catch his breath.

“I’m just worried it’ll fuck us over,” I confess. “I’m worried we’ll go on a losing streak now.”

“You really need to chill, dude.” Con’s tone grows serious. “Look, Demi’s cool. I like her.”

I narrow my eyes.

That gets me another laugh. “I don’t like her like that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, if you weren’t in the picture, I’d be all about her. But—one, you are in the picture. And two, I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“I was in the picture last night too,” I say darkly.

Con looks like he’s trying not to roll his eyes again. “Do you honestly think I’d mack on your girl?”

“You did mack on my girl.”

“Yeah, to light a fire under your ass, you idiot.”

I falter. “What do you mean?”

“I was never going to go through with it. Neither was she.” Conor is chuckling as he stretches out on the bench and gestures for me to spot him again. “I’m surprised you let it go as far as you did. She and I figured there’d be some flirting and nothing more. Didn’t realize I’d need to stick my tongue down her throat for you to get the memo.”

“You guys planned it?” I feel outraged, but at the same time, I’m also…touched? Yeah, I think I’m actually touched. But I guess that makes sense after what happened with Summer and Fitzy. I told Fitz I was into Summer and he made a move anyway. It’s kind of a relief to know Conor wouldn’t do that to me.

“Like I said, Demi’s really cool,” he tells me. “Women like that don’t come along often, so trust me when I say you need to lock it down, ASAP. If you don’t make an effort to keep her, you’ll lose her. She’ll have a boyfriend again in no time, and then you’ll look back on it and realize what a total dumbass you were for letting her go.”





I last about six hours before I cave and shoot a text to Demi.

ME: Want to hang out tonight?





To my relief, she answers immediately.

DEMI: Come over?





ME: Be there in 20.





It’s difficult not to break every traffic law on my way to campus. I force myself to stick to the speed limit, which means I’m twitching with impatience by the time I reach the Theta house. The sorority president, Josie, lets me in. She doesn’t look surprised to see me. The Thetas are used to me being around, thanks to mine and Demi’s psych project.

When I walk into Demi’s room, I find her on the bed, sitting in front of a mountain of schoolwork. The mattress is covered with textbooks, papers, notes, binders, and highlighters.

“Did you rob a school supplies store?” I ask pleasantly.

“Studying for my bio exam,” she moans. She peers up at me with big brown eyes. “I hate science, Hunter. I hate it.”

Sympathy rises inside me. “I’m sorry.” She’s visibly distressed, a drastic contrast from the way her face lights up when we’re working on our psych project.

“I think I’ll do okay on bio and math. I’m more worried about Organic Chem. The exam is the day before winter break, and I’m nowhere near ready for it. I need like ten thousand more study sessions in order to ace that class.”

“You’ll ace all of them,” I assure her. “I have faith in you.” And I have faith in her work ethic. This girl works her ass off. I’ve seen how invested she is in psychology, and I know she puts the same amount of effort into all her classes.

“Are you sure you have time to hang out?” I ask. I’m standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed, because there’s no room for me on there. “Should I even be here right now?”

Demi glares at me. “I’ll kill you if you leave.”

I can’t tell if she’s joking. That’s the problem with being into a chick who’s into murderers.

She gets up and methodically gathers her study materials. She stacks the textbooks on her small desk, then the binders, the pages of notes. All in neat little piles. Her organizational skills are as cute as the rest of her.

When the bedspread is clear, she glances at it for a moment before turning to me, a blush on her cheeks. “I’ve been thinking about you since the second I opened my eyes this morning,” she admits.

“Obviously.” I grin, cocky as fuck. “You opened your eyes this morning to my tongue between your legs.”

“Mmmm yeah.” She shivers happily. “I’ll rephrase—I’ve been thinking about you since I left your house today.” She hesitates. “Have you been thinking about me?”

“God, yes.” No hesitation on my end.

Her expression brightens. “Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s good. Because I wasn’t sure if you wanted last night to be a one-time thing.”

Our eyes lock.