The Deal (Off Campus #1)(65)

I snort into the phone. "She's not on the line, dumbass, but that's good  to know. And trust me, I'm not hitting on you. I … well … I was hoping we  could hang out with some of your frat brothers tonight. Maybe you could,  you know, set me up with one of them."

"Are you serious?" he exclaims. "No fucking way. You're too good for any  of those idiots, and I'm pretty sure Allie would kill me if I hooked  you up with one of them. Besides … " He clams up abruptly.

"Besides what?" I demand.

He doesn't answer.

"Finish that sentence, Sean."

"I'd rather not."

"I'd rather you did." My suspicion snaps into overdrive. "Oh my God." I  gasp. "Do you know why every guy on campus is suddenly treating me like I  have an STD?"

"Maybe?" he says.

"Maybe?" When he doesn't answer, I groan in frustration. "I swear to God, if you don't tell me what you know, I'll-"

"Okay, okay," he interrupts. "I'll tell you."

And then he does.

And my response is a loud shriek of outrage.

"He did what?"


TWENTY MINUTES LATER, I burst through the doors of Briar's hockey arena.  Cold air immediately slaps my cheeks, but it doesn't succeed in cooling  the fire burning inside me. It's five-thirty, which means Garrett and  the team have just finished practice, so I bypass the rink doors and  march right to the locker rooms in the back of the building. I'm so  pissed off that my whole body is trembling from the force of my anger.





  

Garrett has officially stepped over the line. No, he's so far past the  line that I can't even see the stupid line. And there's no way I'm  letting him get away with this ludicrous, juvenile bullshit.

I reach the locker room door as one of the players walks out of it.

"Is Garrett in there?" I bark.

He looks startled to see me. "Yeah, but-"

I bulldoze past him and grab the door handle.

The guy protests from behind. "I don't think you should go in th-"

I burst into the locker room and-

Penises!

Sweet Jesus.

Penises everywhere.

Horror slams into me as I register what I'm seeing. Oh God. I've  stumbled onto a penis convention. Big penises and small penises and fat  penises and penis-shaped penises. It doesn't matter which direction I  move my head because everywhere I look I see penises.

My mortified gasp draws the attention of every penis-er, guy, in the  room. In a heartbeat, towels snap up and hands cover junk and bodies  shuffle around, while I stand in the front of the room blushing like a  tomato.

"Wellsy?" A bare-chested Logan grins at me, one shoulder propped up  against his locker. It looks like he's trying very hard not to laugh.

"Penis-Logan," I blurt out. "Hi." I do my best to avoid making visual  contact with the half naked males milling in the room, all of whom are  either grinning in amusement or blanching in alarm. "I'm looking for  Garrett."

With a barely restrained smirk, Logan hooks his thumb at a doorway in  the back, which I assume leads to the showers because steam is rolling  out of it.

"Thanks." I shoot him a grateful look and head in that direction, just as someone emerges from the steamy space.

Dean appears and I see his penis.

"Hey, Wellsy," he drawls. Completely unfazed by my presence, he strolls  naked toward his locker as if finding me in here is a daily occurrence  for him.

I charge forward, debating whether I should close my eyes, but luckily  all the showers have saloon-type doors and are divided by partitions. As  I march down the tiled floor, heads swivel my way. One of the heads  belongs to Birdie, whose eyes widen when I walk past him.

"Hannah?" he squeaks.

I ignore him and keep walking until I spot a familiar back. My gaze  conducts a quick double-check, and yep, golden skin, tattoo, dark hair.  It's Garrett, all right.

At the sound of my footsteps, he twists around and gapes at the sight of me. "Wellsy?"

I stalk up to the half-door, level him with my meanest scowl, and shout, "What is the matter with you?"





44

Garrett


I'M GRINNING LIKE the town idiot. And now is not the time to be grinning  like the town idiot, not when I'm buck naked in a room full of  showering dudes and my girlfriend is glaring daggers at me. But I'm so  happy to see her that I can't control my facial muscles.

My eyes eat up the sight of her. Her gorgeous face. Dark hair pulled  back in a ponytail with a pink hair thingie. Infuriated green eyes.

She's so damn hot when she's mad at me.

"It's nice to see you too, baby," I answer cheerfully. "How was your break?"

"Don't you baby me. And don't ask about my break because you don't  deserve to know about it!" Hannah glowers at me, then shifts her  attention to the three hockey players in the neighboring stalls. "For  the love of Pete, would you guys just rinse off and skedaddle already?  I'm trying to yell at your captain."

I choke back a laugh, which ends up spilling out when my teammates snap  to attention like they've been issued a command by a drill sergeant.  Showers turn off and towels come out, and a moment later, Hannah and I  are alone.

I shut off the faucet and turn around. The shower door does a good job  of hiding my downstairs area, but all Hannah has to do is peek over and  she'll get an eyeful of my quickly hardening dick, who is unbelievably  happy to see her.

But she doesn't sneak a peek. She simply keeps glaring at me. "You invoked a campus-wide hands-off law? Are you kidding me?"

I'm not at all remorseful as I meet her eyes. "Of course I did."

"Oh my God. You are unbelievable." She shakes her head in disbelief.  "Who does that, Garrett? You can't just go around and tell all the guys  at this school that they're not allowed to touch me or you'll kick their  asses!"

"I didn't tell all the guys. Do I look like I have that kind of time?" I  flash a grin. "I told a few key people and made sure they spread the  word."

"What, if you can't have me no one else can?" she says darkly.





  

I snicker. "Well, that's just insane. I'm not a psycho, babe. I was doing it for your sake."

Her jaw drops. "How the hell do you figure that?"

"Because you're in love with me, and you don't want to date anyone else.  But see, I was afraid your stubborn self would try to do it just to  back up your cover story, so I had to take some preventative measures." I  prop my forearms on the stall door. "I knew if you went out with anyone  else you'd end up regretting it, and then you'd feel like an ass when  you finally came to your senses, and, well, I wanted to spare you all  that pain and suffering. You're welcome."

She looks stunned for a moment.

Then she starts to laugh.

Jesus, I've missed the sound of her laughter. I'm tempted to hop over  the little door and kiss the crap out of her, but I don't get the  chance.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Hannah jumps in surprise when Coach Jensen appears in the shower area.

"Oh, hey, Coach," I call out. "Not what it looks like."

His dark brows knit in a displeased frown. "It looks like you're taking a  shower in front of your girlfriend. In my locker room."

"Okay, then yeah, it's what it looks like. But I promise, it's all very  PG. Well, except for the fact that I'm naked. But don't worry, no kinky  shit is going to happen." I grin at him. "I'm trying to win her back."

Coach's mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. I can't tell if he's  amused or pissed or ready to wash his hands of this whole thing.  Finally, he nods and opts for option number three. "Carry on."

Coach shakes his head to himself as he ambles off, and I turn back to Hannah in time to see her trying to sneak away.

"Oh, hell no," I announce. "No way, Wellsy." I snatch my towel and wrap  it around my waist as I stumble out of the stall. "You're not running  off on me."

"I came here to yell at you," she stammers, her gaze dipping to her feet. "And now I'm done yelling at you, so … "

She yelps when my wet hands cup her cheeks to force her to look at me.  "Great, you're done yelling. Now I want you to talk to me, and you're  not leaving until you do."

"I don't want to talk."

"Tough cookies." I search her agonized expression. "Why did you break up with me?"

"I already told you-"

"I know what you told me. I didn't believe you then and I don't believe you now." I set my jaw. "Why did you break up with me?"

A shaky breath leaves her mouth. "Because we were moving too fast."

"Bullshit. Why did you break up with me?"

"Because I wanted to see other people."

"Try again. Why did you break up with me?"

When she doesn't answer, frustration blasts through me, and I react by  crashing my mouth down on hers. I kiss her roughly, desperately, the  days and weeks of missing her catching up to me and pouring out in the  form of deep, hungry kisses that leave us both breathless. She doesn't  pull away. She just kisses me back with the same unchecked passion, her  hands clinging to my wet shoulders like she's lost at sea and I'm her  life preserver.