"Coming," Justin calls back, then gives me a rueful smile as he takes a step toward the bathroom. "Big Joe and I are about to kick some ass in pool, but I've gotta hit the can first. Talk later?"
"Sure." I keep my tone casual, but there's nothing casual about the way my heart is racing.
As Justin shuts the door behind him, I hurry back to the living room on shaky legs. I'm dying to tell Allie about what just happened, but I don't get the chance. The second I walk into the room, six-foot-two and two hundred pounds of Garrett Graham block my path.
"Wellsy," he says cheerfully. "You're the last person I expected to see here tonight."
As usual, his presence causes my guard to snap into place. "Yeah? Why's that?"
He shrugs. "I didn't think frat parties were your scene."
"Well, you don't know me, remember? Maybe I'm partying it up on Greek Row every night."
"Liar. I would've seen you here before."
He crosses his arms over his chest, a pose that causes his biceps to flex. I glimpse the bottom of a tattoo peeking out from his sleeve, but I can't tell what it is, only that it's black and looks intricate. Flames maybe?
"So, about this tutoring thing … I thought we should take a moment to set up a schedule."
Aggravation shoots up my spine. "You don't give up, do you?"
"Never."
"Then you need to start, because I'm not tutoring you." I'm distracted now. Justin has reentered the room, his long, lithe body moving through the crowd as he makes his way to the pool table. He's halfway there when a pretty brunette intercepts him. To my dismay, he stops to talk to her.
"Come on, Wellsy, help a guy out," Garrett begs.
Justin laughs at something the girl says. Same way he was laughing with me a minute ago. And when she touches his arm and leans in close, he doesn't back away.
"Look, if you don't want to commit to the whole semester, at least help me pass this midterm. I'll owe you one."
I'm no longer paying Garrett even a lick of attention. Justin leans in to whisper in the girl's ear. She giggles, her cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink, and my heart plummets to the pit of my stomach.
I was so sure we'd been, I don't know, connecting, but now he's flirting with someone else?
"You're not even listening to me," Garrett accuses. "Who are you looking at, anyway?"
I tear my eyes off Justin and the brunette, but not fast enough.
Garrett grins when he notices where my gaze was. "Which one?" he demands.
"Which one what?"
He cocks his head at Justin, then shifts it five feet to the right, where I notice Jimmy talking to one of his frat brothers. "Paulson or Kohl-which one do you want to bone?"
"Bone?" He has my attention again. "Ugh. Who says stuff like that?"
"Fine, should I rephrase? Which one do you want to fuck or screw or drill or make love to, if that's your thing."
I set my jaw. This guy is such an asshole.
When I don't answer, he answers for me. "Kohl," he decides. "I saw you dancing with Paulson earlier and you definitely weren't making googly eyes at him."
I don't confirm or deny it. Instead I take a step away. "Have a good night, Garrett."
"I hate to break it to you, but it ain't gonna happen, Wellsy. You're not his type."
Anger and embarrassment flood my belly. Wow. Had he really just said that?
"Thanks for the tip," I say coolly. "Now if you'll excuse me … "
He tries reaching for my arm but I bulldoze past him and leave him in my proverbial dust. I do a quick search of the room for Allie, halting in my tracks when I spot her making out with Sean on the couch. I don't want to interrupt them, so I spin on my heel and head toward the front door instead.
My fingers are shaky as I text Allie to let her know I'm taking off. Garrett's blunt assertion-you're not his type-echoes in my mind like a depressing mantra.
Truth is, it's exactly what I needed to hear. So what if Justin spoke to me in the hallway? Obviously it meant nothing, because in the next breath he turned around and flirted with someone else. It's time for me to face reality. It's not going to happen with me and Justin, no matter how badly I want it to.
It was stupid of me to come here tonight.
Waves of embarrassment course through me as I leave the Sigma house and step into the cool night breeze. I regret not bringing a coat, but I hadn't wanted to carry it around all night, and I figured I could deal with the October chill for the five-second walk from the cab to the front door.
Allie messages back as I step onto the porch, offering to come outside and keep me company until the taxi arrives, but I order her to stay with her boyfriend. Then I pull up the number for the campus taxi service, and I'm just about to dial when I hear my name. A maddening variation of it, that is.
"Wellsy. Wait up."
I take the porch steps two at a time, but Garrett is a lot taller than me, which means his stride is longer, and he catches up to me in no time.
"Come on, wait." His hand latches onto my shoulder.
I shrug it off and turn to glare at him. "What? You're in the mood to insult me some more?"
"I wasn't trying to insult you," he protests. "I was just stating a fact."
That stings. "Gee. Thanks."
"Fuck." He looks frustrated. "I insulted you again. I didn't mean to do that. I'm not trying to be a dick, okay?"
"Of course you're not trying. You just are."
He has the nerve to grin, but his humor fades fast. "Look, I know the guy, all right? Kohl's friends with one of my roommates, so he's been over at my place a few times."
"Goodie for you. You can date him then because I'm not interested."
"Yes, you are." He sounds very sure of himself, and I hate him for that. "All I'm saying is, Kohl has a type."
"All right, I'll humor you. What's his type then? And not because I'm interested in him or anything," I add hastily.
He smiles knowingly. "Uh-huh. Of course you're not." Then he shrugs. "He's been at this college for, what, almost two months? So far I've seen him hook up with one cheerleader and two members of Kappa Beta. Know what that tells me?"
"No, but it tells me that you spend way too much time keeping track of who other dudes are dating."
He ignores the barb. "It tells me Kohl is interested in chicks with a certain social status."
I roll my eyes. "If this is another offer to make me popular, I'm gonna have to pass."
"Hey, if you want to get Kohl's attention, you've gotta do something drastic." He pauses. "So yes, I'm reoffering to go out with you."
"I re-pass. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to call a cab."
"No, you don't."
My phone had gone idle, so I quickly type in my password to unlock it.
"Seriously, don't bother," Garrett says. "I can drive you home."
"I don't need a ride."
"That's what cabs do. They give you rides."
"I don't need a ride from you," I amend.
"You'd rather pay ten bucks to get home instead of accepting a free ride from me?"
His sarcastic remark is right on target. Because yes, I most certainly trust a campus-employed cabbie to drive me home more than I trust Garrett Graham to do it. I don't get into cars with strangers. Period.
Garrett's eyes narrow as if he's read my mind. "I'm not going to try anything, Wellsy. It's just a ride home."
"Go back to the party, Garrett. Your frat brothers are probably wondering where you are."
"Trust me, they don't give a shit where I am. They're only interested in finding a tipsy chick to stick their dicks in."
I gag. "God. You are disgusting, you know that?"
"Nope, just honest. Besides, it's not like I said I'm looking to do that. I don't need to get a woman drunk for her to sleep with me. They come to me sober and willing."
"Congratulations." I yelp when he snatches the phone out of my hand. "Hey!"
To my amazement, he turns the camera toward his face and snaps a picture.
"What are you doing?"
"There," he says, handing the phone back. "Feel free to text that sexy face to your entire contact list and inform them I'm driving you home. That way if you show up dead tomorrow everyone will know who did it. And if you want, you can keep your finger on the emergency call button the whole time in case you need to call the cops." He heaves out an exasperated breath. "Can I please take you home now?"
Although I'm not excited about standing outside alone and coatless to wait for the taxi, I still put up one last protest. "How much have you had to drink?"
"Half a beer."
I raise my eyebrows.
"My limit is one," he insists. "I've got practice tomorrow morning."
My resistance crumbles at his earnest expression. I've heard a lot of rumors about Garrett, but none involving alcohol or drugs, and the campus cab service is notorious for taking its sweet ass time, so really, it won't kill me to spend five minutes in a car with the guy. I can easily give him the silent treatment if he annoys me.