I don’t like the idea that Garrett’s best friend might have feelings for me, but Logan hasn’t tried to make a move on me, and he sure as hell hasn’t talked to me about it, so that’s a relief, I guess. But I really do hope he gets over whatever he’s feeling, because as much as I like the guy, I’m totally and unequivocally in love with his best friend, and that’s never going to change.
This semester has been a busy one for us. I’m yet again rehearsing, this time for the spring showcase, and this time it is a duet—with Dexter, and the two of us are having a blast working together. Garrett and the team have been killing it in the post season. The championship is next week, and the venue for it just happens to be the Wells Fargo Center, home of the Philadelphia Flyers, which means that, yep, I’m going to be watching the final game live, and staying at Aunt Nicole’s for the three days the team is in Philly.
There’s no doubt in my mind that the team will crush it. Garrett and the guys have worked hard this season, and if they don’t win this final game, I’ll eat my hat. Either that, or give my man lots and lots of consolation sex. Such a chore.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Garrett says suddenly, and I turn around to see Birdie and Natalie appear in the doorway where Garrett and I are lurking.
Their faces are flushed and their expressions are secretive, leaving no doubt as to why they’re late for the party. I give Nat a hug of greeting, then smile at Birdie, who responds to Garrett’s taunt with a defensive look.
“Hey, I already told you I’m against this party. It’s bad luck to celebrate before you’ve even won.”
“Naah, we’ve got this in the bag, man.” Garrett grins and leans in to smack a kiss on my cheek. “Besides, I’ve already won the most important prize of all.”
I’m pretty sure my cheeks turn into a pair of tomatoes.
Natalie groans good-naturedly, but Birdie, to my surprise, just nods in approval.
“See,” Garrett informs us as he slings an arm around my shoulder, “I’m allowed to say stuff like that to Birdie because I know he won’t make fun of me.”
“Well, he should,” I grumble, “because that line was cheesy as hell.”
“Oh, shut it,” he mimics. “You like it when I’m romantic.”
Yep. I really do.
Birdie and Nat wander off to say hi to everyone, but Garrett and I stay in our little corner. He tugs me toward him and kisses me, and even though I’m anti-PDA, it’s impossible to think about social etiquette when Garrett Graham is kissing me.
His lips are warm and firm, his tongue hot and wet as he slides it into my mouth for a fleeting taste. I part my lips eagerly, wanting more, but he chuckles and tweaks a strand of my hair.
“Stop being inappropriate, Hannah. We’re in public.”
“Ha. Like I can’t see your boner.”
His gaze drops to his crotch, and he sighs when he notices the bulge straining against his jeans. “For fuck’s sake, Wellsy, you get me hard without me even noticing.” He frowns. “Damn it, now I’m gonna have to leave my own party so we can go upstairs and take care of this. Thanks a lot.”
I snort. “Dream on. There’s no way I’m doing the walk of shame afterward in front of all our friends.”
His face collapses. “You’re ashamed of me?”
“Don’t give me that little boy trickery.” I poke him in the chest. “It doesn’t work on me anymore.”
“Little boy?” he echoes. A wicked smile curves his mouth as he angles his body so that he’s facing away from the room. Then he takes my hand and plants it directly over his hard-on. “Does this feel little or boyish to you?”