But that was before. Before she and I kissed—
She still went to the party to see him after the kiss.
Right. I gulp again. Well, it was after the kiss but before everything else. The sex. The secrets we shared with each other. All the cuddling.
Told you cuddling was a mistake, dude.
My inner cynic wreaks havoc on my brain, bringing a rush of weariness to my chest. No, Kohl had to have been bullshitting. There’s no way Hannah would agree to go out on a date with him without telling me.
Right?
“Anyway, just thought you should know,” Logan says.
It’s damn difficult to speak past my tight-as-fuck throat, but I manage one mumble of a word. “Thanks.”
31
Hannah
Garrett texts me just as I’m getting ready for bed. Allie and I literally walked through the door five minutes ago, and I’m surprised to hear from him again tonight. I figured he’d crash the moment he got home from the game.
Him: Need to talk to u.
Me: Now?
Him: Yes.
O-kay. It might be a text message, but it’s hard not to extrapolate his tone. And his tone is most definitely pissed off.
Me: Um, sure. Call me?
Him: Actually, I’m at your door.
My head snaps toward my open doorway, half expecting to find him there. Then I feel silly because I realize he means the door to our dorm and not my bedroom. Still, this must be serious, because Garrett doesn’t usually show up unannounced.
Queasiness eddies in my stomach as I walk past the common area to answer the door. Sure enough, Garrett is standing behind it. Still wearing his hockey jacket and sweatpants, as if he rushed right over instead of going home to change first.
“Hi,” I greet him, gesturing for him to come inside. “What’s going on?”
He gazes past me at the empty living room. “Where’s Allie?”
“She went to bed.”
“Can we talk in your room?”
The queasiness gets worse. I can’t decipher his expression at all. His eyes are shuttered, and his tone is completely devoid of emotion. Does this have something to do with his father? I couldn’t hear their conversation earlier, but their body language had conveyed some serious aggression. I wonder if maybe they— “Are you going out with Justin this weekend?”
Garrett voices the demand the moment I close my bedroom door, and I realize in dismay that this has nothing to do with his dad.
And everything to do with me.
Surprise and insta-guilt war inside me as I meet his eyes. “Who told you that?”
“Logan. But he heard it from Kohl.”
“Oh.”
Garrett doesn’t move. He doesn’t unzip his jacket. He doesn’t even blink. He just keeps his gaze locked on mine. “Is it true?”
I gulp. “Yes and no.”
For the first time since he got here, his expression flashes with emotion—annoyance. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means he asked me out, but I haven’t decided if I’m going or not.”
“Did you say you would?” There’s a grim edge to his tone.
“Well, yes, but—”
Garrett’s eyes blaze. “You actually said yes? When did he ask you?”
“Last week,” I admit. “The day after Beau’s party.”