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“Every time one of us gives in to one of them, we make it a little easier for them to screw us the next time.” Except … no. Fuck the “next time.” These people are never getting a next time from me.
“People always say college is where you go to find yourself.”
“If that was me, I’d be pretty bummed that my whole life was planned before I even started my first day of college. It’s like gettin’ the movie spoiled when I’m standin’ in line for popcorn.” Bonnie shrugs, dabbing on some lip gloss. “But, hey, long as you’re happy, right?”
So what else is there?” “Oh, this poor, dumb girl,” Alana suddenly says, coming around to our side of the fire to show us her phone. “Just peeped his social media. He’s got a girlfriend.”
“Scrolling through, I think they’ve been together for a few years. My money’s on this one being endgame for him.”
But also because even if I didn’t know she was Kincaid’s girlfriend, I’d still try to date her.
“You can’t lie. You can’t pretend to be all in love with her, or sleep with her unless she initiates it. Kissing is allowed. And you can’t tell her to break up with him. It has to be her idea. Otherwise what’s the point? We might as well go with Heidi’s plan.”
“This is a circle of trust. I’d never snitch on a roomie if she wanted to entertain a little on the side.”
“Why would I be lonely?” “Let’s cut the bullshit.” She nods with a smirk. “Yes, let’s.” “You’re an attractive woman alone in a crowded bar with your face glued to your phone because there’s somewhere else you’d rather be. And wherever that place is, there’s someone who’s having fun without you. Yet you’re sitting here wearing your boredom as a badge of loyalty, with some misguided notion that being miserable proves what a good person you are. So, yeah, I think you’re lonely. I think you’re so desperate for a good time you’re secretly glad I walked over here. In the deepest, darkest part of
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“My roommate is hunting a pair of twins,” she informs me. Oh really. “For sport or meat?” “Bit of both.” Her gaze travels the room, presumably searching the crowd for this elusive roommate. “She has a thing for socially unproductive boys who put their personality on their skin, and she’s got it in her head that twins are good odds. Personally, I think a bout of herpes isn’t worth the morning-after Instagram selfie, but what do I know?”
I can’t peel my gaze off his lips. His hands. Those muscular arms. I’m trying to trace the outlines of his tattoos as he gestures through the air. It’s psychological torture. I’m strapped to a chair, my eyes held open, driven mad by images of his dark eyes and crooked smirk. And although Evan literally has the same face, for some reason I’m not responding to him. Not even remotely. Just Cooper.
Because as terrified as I am to be left alone with Cooper, it’s exactly what I want.
“I don’t start shit, I finish it.”
Cooper’s hot. Insanely hot. And it’s not just his strong, angular face and deep, dark eyes that descend for ages. He also possesses a certain I don’t give a fuck quality that gets right at the most susceptible parts of me. In the light of the fire, there’s something almost ominous about him. A knife when the light glints off the blade. Yet he has a magnetism that’s undeniable. I can’t remember the last time I felt such a visceral attraction to a guy. If ever.
If I’ve learned one thing from rom coms, it’s that you are not allowed to be friends with someone you’re attracted to.
But anyone who places themselves directly in the path of temptation is only asking for trouble.
No matter how many hormonal reactions Cooper elicits in me, I’m not about to leave Pres for the first tattooed bad boy I meet at college.
“Don’t be a dick.” Something about the way he says that strikes a nerve with me. This scheme isn’t exactly ethical, but we don’t have to be sleazy about it.
“Forget ’em. Someone’s making you miserable? Something is holding you back? Forget ’em and move on.” Her teeth dig into her bottom lip. “I can’t.” “Then you don’t want it bad enough.” “That’s not fair.” “Of course not. What’s ever been fair? People spend their whole lives complaining about things they’re unwilling to change. At a certain point, either pluck up the courage or shut up.”
For the first time since we hatched this plan, I’m starting to wonder if I’m in over my head.
“You wanted to know.” “Yeah, I did. And I’m the one who threw her at you. I guess I’m not allowed to be jealous.” Mac growls softly. “But I fucking am.” “Welcome to the club,” I growl back. “The thought of anyone but me putting their hands on you makes me homicidal.”
“I’m not fucking anyone else. I don’t want you fucking anyone else. If anyone looks at you funny, I’m breaking their face. How’s that work?”

