I know better than to argue with Hannah Wells when she’s set her mind to something. She wants us gone, then gone we shall be.
I drain the rest of my coffee, place the empty cup in the sink, and glance at Allie. “I’ll call you later?”
“Yep.” She walks up and gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek, but there’s no way I’m leaving without something a little more substantial. Capturing her chin in my hand, I tip her head back and press my mouth to hers. The kiss I give her is deep and hungry, involving a helluva lot of tongue, and lasting long enough to make Hannah squawk.
“Okay, enough!” she orders.
As Allie and I break apart, I toss a grin in Wellsy’s direction. “Oh, relax, baby doll. It’s just a little French kissing between me and my girl. Nobody died.”
Hannah’s mouth falls open. Then she points to the door and growls, “Out.”
*
Allie
“His girl?” Hannah says the moment Dean and Garrett are out the door. “Explain yourself, Allison. I mean it. Explain. Yourself.”
I swallow some more caffeine. I need to jumpstart my brain if we’re going to have this conversation right now. Though honestly, I’m not sure I can explain myself. I can’t make heads or tails of this Dean thing either.
I guess I’m his girl?
Which means he’s my guy?
Because we’re a couple now?
Bottom line: I did not expect last night to end the way it did. After the way Sean completely lost it and treated me like a clump of dog shit under his shoe, I should’ve been ready to swear off all men, and somehow I wound up with a boyfriend. Life is fascinating sometimes.
“When did this happen?” Hannah’s voice softens as she searches my face. “And why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug awkwardly. “I was embarrassed.”
“Why would you be embarrassed?”
Sighing, I carry my coffee cup to the sofa and sink down on it. I tuck my legs under me and wait for Hannah to join me. “Because…because it’s Dean. Dean Di Laurentis, the biggest player we know.” I feel bad saying it, but I’ve always been honest with Hannah. “He’s annoying and ridiculous and totally not my type.”
Or at least that’s what I used to believe, before I got to know him. Sure, he’s still annoying and ridiculous more often than not, but there’s so much more to Dean than I ever could’ve imagined.
Hannah purses her lips. “All right. Start from the beginning. When did this happen?”
“When do you think?” I say wryly. “The night I stayed over at their house.”
Her face pales. “Oh God. So this is my fault? I did this to you?”
I burst out laughing. “No, I did it to myself. I got drunk and wound up in his bed. It’s all on me.”
“And now you guys are together?” She looks flabbergasted. “How is that even possible? You said so yourself—he’s the biggest player we know. Why would you ever agree to date him?”
“Because I like him,” I say simply.
“Are you sure we’re not dealing with a rebound situation here?”
I shrug. “It might have started as one. I can’t deny that Dean’s attention made me feel good. It was…different than Sean’s attention. Sean always needed me but in ways that I could never satisfy. Nothing I did was good enough for him. I was always making him angry and disappointing him, and a part of me knew we weren’t right for each other, but…I like being in a relationship.” Those last words hang between us like a giant anvil. I don’t even have to look at Hannah to anticipate her next question.
“You sure you aren’t rushing into a relationship because you need to be in one?” Her skepticism is digging a hole into what felt right last night, what even felt right this morning.
Stricken, I look at her. “I don’t know. I tried to tell Dean no. After the first night we had sex”—mind blowing, unforgettable, can’t-stop-thinking-about-it sex—“he kept calling and texting begging for round two and I kept putting him off until it seemed stupid. I wanted him and he wanted me, so why not?”
“But you couldn’t keep it just sex?”
I groan. “I tried, I really did, but I’m not wired that way, Han-Han. And I don’t know how it happened, but I started enjoying more than just his magical dick.” She snickers, but I keep going. “He’s good to me. He’s a great listener. He’s fun to be around. The sex is off-the-charts amazing.”
Wait, did I just put sex fourth on that list? Apparently so. But that’s because…well, because sex isn’t the first thing I think of anymore when I think of Dean. We’ve come a long way from just being two sweaty bodies on an orgasm quest. We’ve watched a French soap opera where, between us, we only understand every third word. We’ve danced together. We’ve hung out. He met my high school friend. He met my dad—
“And he’s the first person you want to talk to when you’re upset,” Hannah adds shrewdly.
I press my lips together. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t deny what happened last night. My first instinct was to get Dean’s arms around me, as if he was the only person who could make it all better. And he did. He soothed my hurt pride, my wounded feelings, and held me all night long. I wouldn’t have slept a minute last night if he hadn’t come over.
“Are you worried he’s going to hurt me?” I ask with a sigh.
Hannah rubs the rim of her coffee cup a few times before answering. “No. I think I may need to worry about Dean. He’s never rushed to anyone’s side before. I’m not saying he’s selfish. He’s a good friend, but I know Garrett would call Logan before he’d call Dean.”
“I don’t know why,” I say irritably. “Dean would give anyone the shirt off his back. No questions asked.”
“Logan’s reliable.”
“And Dean isn’t? Just because he’s a little sex-obsessed doesn’t make him unreliable!” A few lukewarm drops of coffee spill out as I slam the cup on the table.
Hannah bursts out laughing, her unwelcome sounds following me into the kitchen where I grab a few paper towels to clean up my mess.
“What’s so funny?” I demand, tossing the damp towels in the trash.
“You and your needless defense of Dean.” She rises from the sofa and joins me in the kitchen, giving my shoulder a small squeeze. “Look, if you want to be with Dean, then be with Dean. I’m just worried because you don’t sleep with guys just for funsies. I’m not saying that sleeping with him right after breaking up with Sean is wrong or dishonorable in any way. It’s just not you.”
I sag against the counter. “I know it’s not me. I keep telling myself that, but…I really like being with him, damn it.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“No. I don’t have that squishy feeling when it comes to him. Not like I had with…” I trail off. I was going to say not like I had with Sean but I can’t remember the last time I felt soft and warm toward Sean. The only feelings I remember having are ones of restraint, irritation, impatience, and, last night, hurt.
Hannah shoves a new cup of coffee in my hand. “Stop overthinking it and just see where it goes.
26
Allie
Over the next week, I take Hannah’s advice and try to turn off my brain. Dean and I start going out together as a couple. Nothing explicit is said. We don’t wear little badges, but our interactions make it obvious.
When we’re out, he’s always touching me, but not in a way that makes me feel like he’s trying to mark his territory or show off. He’s just super physical. If I’m near him, his hand is somewhere on my body. Usually his palm is glued to the top of my ass, but sometimes he brushes my hair back or dangles his fingers over my shoulder. He kisses my temple and cheek. Not once do I feel like he’s holding me back.
Of all of our friends, Garrett is the most concerned. Hannah wants me to be happy and as long as I’m smiling, she’s smiling. Garrett, on the other hand, waffles between worry and wary acceptance. He’s convinced that Dean is going to break my heart, which will therefore create a rift between his girlfriend and one of his best friends.
I’ve tried to reassure him that I’m all grown up and can handle any heartbreak that comes my way, but then the conversation winds its way back to Sean, who I just want to forget. Dean makes that pretty easy.
Any time he’s not in class or on the ice, he’s with me. Sometimes he’s reading a book while I rehearse my lines, sometimes he helps me out by reading a part with me. His high-pitched fake female voice has me dying with laughter so it usually takes a few tries to get through an entire scene, and by the time we’re done he’s horny. From my laughter, he says. Although I get the impression that I could do just about anything and Dean would be ready to go.
The most important thing is that we’re happy—way happier than I’ve felt in a long time. Which is fucking mind-boggling. If someone had told me six weeks ago that Dean Di Laurentis and I would not only be dating, but happily dating? I would’ve laughed my ass off.
“What do you have going on after rehearsal tonight?” Dean asks from the bed. He’s lying against the pillows, hair tousled, looking like the sex god that he is. I refocus my eyes back to the mirror and away from him so I don’t accidentally stab myself with the mascara wand.