I lower my voice. “What’s up?”
He lets out a weary breath. “I debated saying anything at all, but fuck, G, I don’t like seeing anyone get played for a fool, especially my best friend. I figured I should wait until after the game, though.” He shrugs. “I didn’t want you to be distracted on the ice.”
“What the hell are you talking about, man?”
“Dean and I ended up at Maxwell’s house last night for his Halloween thing,” Logan confesses. “Kohl was there, and…”
I narrow my eyes. “And what?”
Logan looks so uncomfortable that my guard soars another twenty feet. He’s never one to beat around the bush, which means shit must be serious.
“He said he’s going out with Wellsy this weekend.”
My heart stops. “Bullshit.”
“That’s what I thought, but…” Another shrug. “He insisted it was true. I figured I should tell you about it, you know, just in case he’s not talking out of his ass.”
I swallow, my mind running a million miles a second. Bullshit continues to be my thought of choice, but a part of me isn’t so sure. The whole reason Hannah is even in my life is because of fucking Kohl. Because she was interested in Kohl.
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.”
His face relaxes. Just slightly. “So it was before Dean’s thing? Before you and I…?”
I nod.
“Okay.” He takes a breath. “Okay. Not as bad as I thought.” But then his features turn to stone again and his nostrils flare. “Wait—what do you mean, you haven’t decided if you’re going?”
I give a helpless shrug.
“You’re not fucking going, Hannah!”
His sharp voice makes me wince. “Says who? You? Because last I checked, you and I aren’t dating. We’re just fooling around.”
“Is that what you really—” He stops, his mouth twisting in a scowl. “You know what? I guess you’re right. I guess we’re just fooling around.”
I can barely keep up with the jumbled thoughts racing through my brain. “You said you don’t do girlfriends,” I say weakly.