The Deal (Off Campus #1)(44)

A quick exploration of the fridge, pantry and cupboards reveals that  Garrett wasn't kidding-cooking does happen here, because the kitchen is  stocked with ingredients. The only recipe I know off the top of my head  is my grandmother's three-cheese lasagna, so I gather up all the  necessary items and pile them on the granite counter. I'm about to get  cooking when something else occurs to me.

Pursing my lips, I fish my phone out of my back pocket and pull up my  mother's number. It's only four o'clock, so I'm hoping she hasn't left  for work yet.

Luckily, she picks up on the first ring. "Hey, sweetie! This is a lovely surprise."

"Hey. Got a sec?"

"I've got five whole minutes actually," she replies with a laugh. "Your  father's driving me to work tonight, so he has the honor of cleaning all  the snow off the car."

"You guys are already getting that much snow?" I say in horror.

"Of course we are. It's gl-"

"I swear to God, Mom, if you say global warming, I'm hanging up," I warn  her, because as much as I love my parents, their global warming  lectures drive me up the wall. "And why is Dad driving you? What  happened to your car?"





  

"It's in the shop. The brake pads needed to be replaced."

"Oh." I absently open a box of lasagna sheets. "Anyway, I wanted to ask  you about Nana's lasagna recipe. It serves eight, right?"

"Ten," she corrects.

Frowning, I think about all the food Garrett shoveled into his pie hole  when he came to the diner last week, then multiply that by four hockey  players and …

"Crap," I mutter. "I still don't think that's enough. If I wanted to  serve twenty, do I just double the ingredients, or is there a different  way to calculate it?"

Mom pauses. "Why exactly are you cooking lasagna for twenty people?"

"I'm not. But I am feeding four hockey players who I imagine have the appetites of twenty people."

"I see." There's another pause and I can practically hear her smiling  over the line. "Is one of these four hockey players someone … special?"

"You can just ask me if he's my boyfriend, Mom. You don't have to be cheesy about it."

"Fine. Is he your boyfriend?"

"Nope. I mean, we're kinda seeing each other, I guess-" Kinda? He just made you come! "-but we're friends more than anything."

Friends who make each other come.

I silence the annoying voice in my voice and swiftly change the subject.  "Do you have time to quickly talk me through the recipe?"

"Of course."

Five minutes later, I hang up the phone and start preparing dinner for the guy who made me come today.





28

Garrett


THE HOUSE SMELLS like an Italian restaurant when I walk through the  door. I turn to Logan, who shoots me a WTF look, and I shrug as if to  say fuck if I know, because I honestly don't know. I bend down to unlace  my scuffed black boots, then follow the mouthwatering aroma to the  kitchen. When I reach the doorway, I blink like I've just stumbled upon a  desert mirage.

Hannah's sexy ass greets my eyes. She's angled over the oven door,  wearing Tuck's pink oven mitts as she pulls a steaming pan of lasagna  off the middle shelf. At the sound of my footsteps, she glances over her  shoulder and smiles. "Oh, hey. Perfect timing."

All I can do is gape at her.

"Garrett? Hello?"

"You made dinner?" I sputter.

Her cheerful expression falters slightly. "Yeah. Is that okay?"

I'm too stunned-and genuinely touched-to answer.

Fortunately, Dean appears in the doorway and answers for me. "Baby doll, that smells fantastic."

Tucker trails in after Dean. "I'll set the table," he pipes up.

My three roommates lumber into the kitchen, Tucker and Dean going to help Hannah, while Logan stands beside me, looking amazed.

"She cooks too?" he sighs.

Something about his tone-well, not something, since it's the  unmistakable note of longing that causes my guard to shoot up ten feet.  Fuck. He can't actually be into her, can he? I figured he just wanted to  sleep with her, but the way he's looking at her right now …

I don't fucking like it.

"Dude, keep it in your pants," I mutter, which summons a chuckle from  Logan, who obviously knows what I was thinking and my opinion about said  thoughts.

"Shit, this looks amazing," Tucker says as he stands over the lasagna dish with a knife and serving spatula.

The five of us settle at the table, which Hannah actually took the time  to not only clean, but cover with a blue-and-white tablecloth. Aside  from my mother, no female has ever cooked dinner for me before. I  kinda … like it.

"So are you dressing up tomorrow?" Tucker asks Hannah as he heaps a modest-sized square of lasagna onto her plate.

"For what?"

Tuck grins. "Halloween, dumbass."

Hannah lets out a groan. "Oh crap. That's tomorrow? I swear, I have no concept of time."

"My costume suggestion for you?" Dean chimes in. "Sexy nurse. Actually,  fuck that, we live in the modern world-sexy doctor. Oooh, or sexy navy  pilot."

"I'm not dressing up as sexy anything, thank you very much. It's bad  enough that I'm stuck passing out drinks at the dorm crawl."

I chuckle. "Shit, you got roped into doing that?" The annual Halloween  dorm crawl involves people popping into a dorm, getting free drinks, and  then moving on to the next building. I've heard it's actually a lot  more fun than it sounds.

She sticks out her chin glumly. "I did it last year too. It sucked. You  guys better stop in at Bristol House if you're planning on going."

"I'd love to, gorgeous," Logan says in a flirty tone that makes me stiffen. "Don't expect G here to show up, though."





  

She looks over at me. "You're not going out on Halloween?"

"Nope," I reply.

"Why not?"

"Because he hates Halloween," Dean informs her. "He's scared of ghosts."

I flip him the bird. But rather than own up to the real reason I hate  October thirty-first with every fiber of my being, I just shrug and say,  "It's a pointless holiday with silly traditions."

Logan snickers. "Says the Fun Police."

Tucker finishes serving everyone, then sits down and shoves a fork into  his lasagna. "Motherfucker, that's good," he mumbles between mouthfuls.

After that, all conversation ceases to exist, because the guys and I are  ravenous after three hours of shooting drills, which means we've turned  into cavemen. We waste no time demolishing the lasagna, garlic bread  and Caesar salad Hannah made for us. And I mean demolishing. There's  barely half a serving left in the pan by the time we're through with it.

"I knew I should have tripled the recipe," Hannah says ruefully, staring  at the empty dishes in wonder. Then she tries to get up to clear the  table, at which point Tucker all but bodychecks her out of the kitchen.

"My mama taught me manners, Wellsy." He gives her a stern look. "Someone  cooks for you, you clean. Period." His head swivels to the doorway just  as Logan and Dean try to sneak out. "Where're you ladies going? Dishes,  assholes. G, you get a free pass since you have to drive our lovely  chef home."

In the hall, I plant my hands on Hannah's waist and crook my neck to kiss her. "Why can't you be taller?" I grumble.

"Why can't you be shorter?" she counters.

I brush my lips over hers. "Thanks for cooking dinner. That was really sweet of you."

A blush tints her cheeks. "I figured I owed you … you know … " The pinkish tinge darkens to red. "Because you're a sex god and all."

I chuckle. "Does that mean every time I give you an orgasm you'll cook me a meal?"

"Nope. Tonight was a one-time deal. No more home-cooked meals for you."  She stands on her tiptoes and brings her mouth to my ear. "But I still  get the orgasms."

Like I could ever, ever say no to that.

"Come on, I'll drive you back. You've got an early class tomorrow,  right?" I'm surprised to realize that I actually know her schedule.

I'm not sure what's happening between us. I mean, I agreed to help her  with her sex problem, but … problem solved, right? She got what she wanted  from me, and we didn't even need to have sex to make it happen. So  technically, there's no reason for her to sleep with me. Or even keep  seeing me, for that matter.

And me … well, I don't want a girlfriend. My attention is and has always  been focused solely on hockey, graduating, and the draft I'm planning on  entering come graduation. Not to mention impressing the scouts who are  already starting to show up at our games. Now that the season is in full  swing, this means more practices and games and less time to devote to  anything-or anyone-other than hockey.

So why does the thought of not spending any more time with Hannah bring the oddest clench of regret to my gut?

She tries to take a step down the hall, but I tug on her hand and kiss  her again, and this time it's not a peck. I kiss her hard, losing myself  in her taste and her heat and every damn thing about her. I never  expected her. Sometimes people sneak up on you and suddenly you don't  know how you ever lived without them. How you went about your day and  hung out with your friends and fucked other people without having this  one important person in your life.