The Deal(18)

“Naah, he’s not my type. Too preppy.”

“Well, I know someone who is your type.” Allie wiggles her eyebrows before lowering her voice to a teasing whisper. “And don’t turn around, but he just walked through the door.”

My heart takes off like a kite in a windstorm. Don’t turn around? Don’t people realize that saying that is guaranteed to make someone do the exact opposite?

I swivel my head toward the front door, then swivel it right back because oh my God. She’s right. Justin has finally shown up.

And since the glimpse I stole was far too fleeting, I rely on Allie to fill in the blanks. “Is he alone?” I murmur.

“He’s with a few of his teammates,” she murmurs back. “None of them brought dates, though.”

I do my best impression of a person who’s just talking to a friend and is in no way crushing on the guy standing ten feet away. And it works, because Justin and his buddies walk right past Allie and me, their loud laughter quickly swallowed up by a swell of music.

“You’re blushing,” she teases.

“I know.” I groan softly. “Fuck. This crush is so stupid, A. Why are you letting me embarrass myself like this?”

“Because I don’t think it’s stupid at all. And it’s not embarrassing—it’s healthy.” She grabs my arm and proceeds to drag me back to the living room. The stereo volume is lower now, but animated chatter continues to buzz through the room.

“Seriously, Han, you’re young and beautiful, and I want you to fall in love. I don’t care who it’s with as long as—why is Garrett Graham staring at you?”

I follow her startled gaze and smother another groan when Garrett’s gray eyes lock onto mine.

“Because he’s stalking me,” I grumble.

Her eyebrows soar. “For real?”

“Pretty much, yeah. He’s failing Ethics, and he knows I did well on the midterm so now he’s demanding I tutor him. The guy can’t take no for an answer.”

She snickers. “I think you might be the only girl who’s ever turned him down.”

“If only the rest of the female population was as smart as I am.”

I gaze past Allie’s shoulder and scan the room for Justin, and my pulse speeds up when I spot him by the pool table. He’s wearing black pants and a gray cable-knit sweater, and his hair is messy, falling onto his strong forehead. God, I love that just-rolled-out-of-bed look he has going on. He’s not all gelled up like his buddies, nor is he wearing his football jacket like the rest of them.

“Allie, get your cute ass over here!” Sean shouts from the Ping-Pong table. “I need my pong partner!”

A pretty blush blooms on her cheeks. “Wanna watch us kick some beer pong butt? Minus the beer,” she adds quickly. “Sean knows I’m not drinking tonight.”

I’m hit with another jolt of guilt. “That’s no fun,” I say lightly. “You’ve gotta have the beer to play the pong.”

She firmly shakes her head. “I promised you I wouldn’t drink.”

“And I’m not planning on sticking around for much longer,” I counter. “So there’s no reason for you not to get your buzz on.”

“But I want you to stay,” she protests.

“How about this? I’ll stay for another half hour, but only if you allow yourself to have some actual fun. I know we made a deal in freshman year, but I’m not holding you to it anymore, A.”

I mean every word, because I really do hate that she has to babysit me every time we go out. It’s not fair to her. And after two years at Briar, I know it’s time for me to lower my guard, at least a little bit.

“Come on, I want to see you show off those mad beer pong skills.” I link my arm through hers, and she laughs as I drag her over to Sean and his friends.

“Hannah!” Sean says in delight. “You playing?”

“Nope,” I reply. “Just cheering on my bestie.”

Allie joins Sean at one end of the table, and for the next ten minutes, I watch the most intense beer pong match on the planet unfold. But the entire time, I’m wholly aware of Justin, who’s chatting with his teammates across the room.

Eventually, I wander off because I finally do need to use the restroom. There’s one on the main floor near the kitchen, but the line is crazy long and it’s ages before I get a turn. I quickly do my business, then walk out of the bathroom—and slam into a hard male chest.