“Can I get you anything else?” my waitress asks eagerly.
She’s looking at me like I’m a celebrity or some shit, but I’m used to the attention. Fact: when you’re the captain of a Division I hockey team that’s won two consecutive national titles, people know who you are. And women want to fuck you.
“No, thanks. Just the bill, please.”
“Oh.” Her disappointment is unmistakable. “Sure. Coming right up.”
Before she can go, I voice a gruff question. “Do you know when Hannah’s shift is over?”
Her disappointed expression transforms into one of disbelief. “Why?”
“She’s in one of my classes. I wanted to talk to her about an assignment.”
The brunette’s face relaxes, but a flicker of suspicion lingers in her eyes. “She’s off now, but she can’t leave until her table does.”
I glance over at the only other occupied table in the diner, where a middle-aged couple is sitting. The man has just pulled out his wallet, while his wife peers at the bill through her horn-rimmed glasses.
I pay for my food, bid my waitress goodbye, then head outside to wait for Hannah. Five minutes later, the older couple waltzes out of the diner. A minute after that, Hannah appears, but if she sees me lurking near the door, she doesn’t let on. She simply buttons up her coat and takes off toward the side of the building.
I waste no time hurrying after her. “Wellsy, wait up.”
She looks over her shoulder, frowning deeply. “For the love of God, I’m not tutoring you.”
“Sure you are.” I shrug. “I just need to figure out what you want in return.”
Hannah whirls around like a dark-haired tornado. “I want to not tutor you. That’s what I want.”
“All right, so it’s obvious you’re not interested in money,” I muse as if she hasn’t spoken. “Has to be something else then.” I mull it over for a beat. “Booze? Weed?”
“No, and no, and get lost.”
She starts walking again, her white sneakers slapping the sidewalk as she marches toward the gravel lot at the side of the diner. She makes a beeline for the silver Toyota hatchback parked right next to my Jeep.
“Okay then. I guess you’re not into party favors.”
I follow her to the driver’s side, but she completely ignores me as she unlocks the door and tosses her purse into the passenger seat.
“How about a date?” I offer.
That gets her attention. She straightens up like someone shoved a metal rod up her spine, then swivels her head in astonishment. “What?”
“Ah. I’ve got your attention.”
“No, you’ve got my disgust. You actually think I want to go out with you?”
“Everyone wants to go out with me.”
She bursts out laughing.
Maybe I should feel insulted by the response, but I like the sound of her laughter. It’s got a musical quality to it, a husky pitch that tickles my ears.
“Just out of curiosity,” she says, “after you wake up in the morning, do you admire yourself in the mirror for one hour or two?”
“Two,” I reply cheerfully.
“Do you high five yourself?”
“Of course not.” I smirk. “I kiss each of my biceps and then point to the ceiling and thank the big man upstairs for creating such a perfect male specimen.”
She snorts. “Uh-huh. Well, sorry to burst your bubble, Mr. Perfect, but I’m not interested in dating you.”
“I think you’re misunderstanding, Wellsy. I’m not looking to make a love connection with you. I know you’re not into me. If it makes you feel better, I’m not into you either.”
“That does make me feel better. I was starting to worry I might actually be your type, and that’s too terrifying to even contemplate.”
When she tries to duck into the car, I curl my fingers over the doorframe to keep it open. “I’m talking about image,” I clarify.
“Image,” she echoes.
“Yeah. Do you think you’d be the first girl who went out with me to boost her popularity? Happens all the time.”
Hannah laughs again. “I’m perfectly content with my current rung on the social ladder, but thanks so much for offering to ‘boost my popularity.’ You’re a prince, Garrett. Really.”
Frustration scrambles up my throat. “What’ll it take to change your mind?”
“Nothing. You’re wasting your time.” She shakes her head, looking as frustrated as I feel. “You know, if you take all the effort you’re using to harass me and channel it to your studies, you’d get an A-plus-plus-plus on that midterm.”
She shoves my hand out of the way, slides into the driver’s seat, and shuts the door. A second later, the engine roars to life, and I’m pretty sure that if I hadn’t stepped back in time, she would’ve run right over my foot.
I wonder if Hannah Wells was an athlete in another life, because she is one stubborn woman.
Sighing, I stare at her blinking red taillights and try to figure out my next move.
Absolutely nothing comes to mind.
5
Hannah
Allie stays true to her word. It’s twenty minutes into the party, and she’s yet to leave my side, despite the fact that her boyfriend has been begging her to dance with him since the second we arrived.
I feel like a jackass.
“Okay, this is ridiculous. Go dance with Sean already.” I have to shout in order to be heard over the music, which, shockingly enough, is pretty decent. I expected shitty dance beats or vulgar hip-hop, but whoever’s manning the stereo system seems to have an affinity for indie rock and Brit punk.