The Deal (Off-Campus #1)(57)

“Hey,” she says. “It’s sweltering in here. I’m glad I didn’t bother with a coat.”

“Hey.” I lean in and smack a kiss on her cheek. I would have loved to target those luscious lips, but even though I consider this a date, I’m pretty sure Hannah doesn’t. “How was rehearsal?”

“The usual.” She offers a glum look. “The usual being shitty.”

“What did Cass the Ass do this time?”

“Nothing major. Just acting like his jackass self.” Hannah sighs. “I won the argument about where to put the bridge in the arrangement, but he won about the second chorus. You know, for when the choir comes in.”

I groan loudly. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Wellsy. You caved on that?”

“It was two against one,” she says darkly. “MJ decided her song absolutely required a choir for maximum effect. We start rehearsing with them on Wednesday.”

She’s very obviously pissed, so I squeeze her arm and say, “Do you want a drink?”

I see her slender throat bob as she gulps. She doesn’t answer for a moment. She just looks into my eyes, as if she’s trying to mentally bore her way into my brain. I end up holding my breath, because I know something important is about to happen. Hannah is either going to place her trust in my hands, or she’s going to lock it up tight, which would be the equivalent of a bone-jarring hip-check, because damn it, I want her to trust me.

When she finally answers, her voice is so soft I can’t hear her over the music.

“What?”

A breath escapes her lips, and then she raises her voice. “I said, sure.”

With that one teeny word, my heart inflates like a goddamn helium balloon. Hannah’s trust, meet Garrett’s hands.

I fight to keep my happiness in check, settling for a nonchalant nod as I lead her toward the bar counter. “What’ll it be? Beer? Whiskey?”

“No, I want something tasty.”

“I swear to God, Wellsy, if you order peach schnapps or something girly like that, I will officially unfriend you.”

“But I am a girl,” she protests. “Why can’t I have a girly drink? Ooh, maybe a pi?a colada?”

I heave out a sigh. “Fine. That’s better than schnapps, at least.”

At the counter, I order Hannah’s drink and then proceed to scrutinize every move the bartender makes. Hannah also watches him with eagle eyes.

With two of the most vigilant patrons on the planet monitoring the pi?a-colada-making process from start to finish, there’s absolutely no doubt about the drug-free status of the glass I place in Hannah’s hand a few minutes later.

She takes a tiny sip, then smiles up at me. “Mmmm. Yummy.”

The joy in my heart damn near overflows. “C’mon, let me introduce you to some of the guys.”

I take her arm again and we wander toward the rowdy group at the pool table, where I introduce her to Birdie and Simms. Logan and Tucker spot us and walk over, and both of them greet Hannah with a hug. Logan’s hug lasts a little too long, but when I meet his eyes, his expression is one of innocence. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

But hell, I’m already competing with Kohl for Hannah’s affections, and the last thing I want is my best friend throwing his hat in the ring.

Except…am I competing? I’m still not sure what I even want from her. I mean, fine, I want sex. I want it very, very badly. But if by some miracle she decides to give it to me, what then? What happens after? Do I stick a flag in the ground and claim her as my girlfriend?

Girlfriends are a distraction, and I can’t afford any distractions right now, especially when two weeks ago I was in danger of losing my place on the team.

There aren’t many things my father and I agree on, but when it comes to focus and ambition, we happen to be on the same page. I will go pro after I graduate. Until then, I need to concentrate on keeping my grades up and leading my team to another Frozen Four victory. Failure is not an option.

But watching Hannah hook up with some other guy?

Not an option, either.

Rock, meet hard place.

“Oh my God, this is so good,” she announces as she takes another deep swig. “I totally want another one.”

I chuckle. “How about you finish this one first, and then we can talk about a refill?”

“Fine,” she huffs. Then she drains the rest of her drink in one of the most impressive feats of speed I’ve ever witnessed, licks her lips, and beams at me. “Okay. How about that refill?”

I can’t fight the grin that stretches across my face. Man oh man. I have a feeling Hannah is going to be a very… interesting drunk.


I am absolutely right.

Three pi?a coladas later, Hannah is up on stage doing karaoke.

Yup. Drunk girl karaoke.

The only saving grace is that she’s a phenomenal singer. I can’t imagine how cringe-worthy it would be if she was drunk and tone-deaf.

The entire bar is going batshit crazy for Hannah’s performance. She’s belting out “Bad Romance” and almost everyone is singing along, including more than a few of my wasted teammates. I find myself grinning like an idiot as I gaze at the stage. There’s nothing lewd about what she’s doing. No coy almost-stripping, no suggestive dance moves. Hannah throws her head back happily, her cheeks flushed and eyes shining as she sings, and she’s so beautiful it makes my chest hurt.