The Deal (Off-Campus, #1)(114)

After an awkward silence, Justin shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “All right. I’m up for giving this friend thing a shot. Text me if you ever want to grab coffee sometime.”

He wanders off, and a weight lifts off my chest.

Upstairs in my dorm, I congratulate myself on a potential disaster averted and return to mulling over my mission. Allie doesn’t get back from New York until tomorrow. Stella is out of town, too. When I text Dex, he vetoes a hangout session because he’s cramming for his last exam. When I message Meg, she says she has plans with Jeremy.

Sighing, I scroll through my phone contacts until a name sparks my interest. Actually, the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of making this call.

Allie’s boyfriend picks up after several rings. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey. It’s Hannah.”

“No kidding,” Sean cracks. “Your number is in my phone.”

“Oh, right.” I hesitate. “So listen, I know Allie isn’t back from her dad’s yet, but I was wondering if…” I trail off, then blurt out, “What are you doing tonight? Do you want to hang out?”

My best friend’s boyfriend falls silent. I don’t blame him. I’ve never called him to hang out without Allie before. For that matter, I’ve never called him, period.

“You realize this is weird, right?” Sean says frankly.

I sigh. “Yes.”

“What’s going on? Are you just bored or something? Or is this a f*cked up hit-on-your-friend’s-boyfriend kinda thing? Wait—is Allie listening in?” Sean raises his voice. “Allie, if you’re there, I love you. I would never, ever cheat on you with your best friend.”

I snort into the phone. “She’s not on the line, dumbass, but that’s good to know. And trust me, I’m not hitting on you. I…well…I was hoping we could hang out with some of your frat brothers tonight. Maybe you could, you know, set me up with one of them.”

“Are you serious?” he exclaims. “No f*cking way. You’re too good for any of those idiots, and I’m pretty sure Allie would kill me if I hooked you up with one of them. Besides…” He clams up abruptly.

“Besides what?” I demand.

He doesn’t answer.

“Finish that sentence, Sean.”

“I’d rather not.”

“I’d rather you did.” My suspicion snaps into overdrive. “Oh my God.” I gasp. “Do you know why every guy on campus is suddenly treating me like I have an STD?”

“Maybe?” he says.

“Maybe?” When he doesn’t answer, I groan in frustration. “I swear to God, if you don’t tell me what you know, I’ll—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupts. “I’ll tell you.”

And then he does.

And my response is a loud shriek of outrage.

“He did what?”


Twenty minutes later, I burst through the doors of Briar’s hockey arena. Cold air immediately slaps my cheeks, but it doesn’t succeed in cooling the fire burning inside me. It’s five-thirty, which means Garrett and the team have just finished practice, so I bypass the rink doors and march right to the locker rooms in the back of the building. I’m so pissed off that my whole body is trembling from the force of my anger.

Garrett has officially stepped over the line. No, he’s so far past the line that I can’t even see the stupid line. And there’s no way I’m letting him get away with this ludicrous, juvenile bullshit.

I reach the locker room door as one of the players walks out of it.

“Is Garrett in there?” I bark.

He looks startled to see me. “Yeah, but—”

I bulldoze past him and grab the door handle.

The guy protests from behind. “I don’t think you should go in th—”

I burst into the locker room and—

Penises!

Sweet Jesus.

Penises everywhere.

Horror slams into me as I register what I’m seeing. Oh God. I’ve stumbled onto a penis convention. Big penises and small penises and fat penises and penis-shaped penises. It doesn’t matter which direction I move my head because everywhere I look I see penises.

My mortified gasp draws the attention of every penis—er, guy, in the room. In a heartbeat, towels snap up and hands cover junk and bodies shuffle around, while I stand in the front of the room blushing like a tomato.

“Wellsy?” A bare-chested Logan grins at me, one shoulder propped up against his locker. It looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.

“Penis—Logan,” I blurt out. “Hi.” I do my best to avoid making visual contact with the half naked males milling in the room, all of whom are either grinning in amusement or blanching in alarm. “I’m looking for Garrett.”

With a barely restrained smirk, Logan hooks his thumb at a doorway in the back, which I assume leads to the showers because steam is rolling out of it.

“Thanks.” I shoot him a grateful look and head in that direction, just as someone emerges from the steamy space.

Dean appears and I see his penis.

“Hey, Wellsy,” he drawls. Completely unfazed by my presence, he strolls naked toward his locker as if finding me in here is a daily occurrence for him.