“Who was the other guy you were with?” “A friend,” I ventured, fighting to make it more of a statement than the question it started off as. My inability to classify Chet in my own mind wasn’t helping. Nor was the fact that even thinking about him right now caused the tiniest frisson of arousal to percolate through me. It felt like a betrayal of the highest order—bodily speaking—considering what an ass Chet had been that night. Well, aside from the part where he helped me escape campus police, an unhelpful voice in my head reminded me.
