The Deal (Off-Campus, #1)

by Elle Kennedy

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 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.

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want this girl. When I wasn’t fucking desperate for her.

“How did I go so long without noticing you, damn it?

“It doesn’t matter. You know me now.”

I have no idea how we got to this point. One day I was telling him to get lost, the next, I’m snuggling in bed with him. Life is so frickin’ weird sometimes.

And I’m not sure peaceful is the accurate word to describe how I feel when I’m with him. When we’re arguing or shooting wisecracks back and forth, it’s like my whole body is wired with electricity. And when we’re naked…it’s like an entire Fourth of July fireworks display going off inside me. I think that might be a good thing?

“Yeah, that’s how it usually is with women. They hold all the cards and we’re just clueless.”

“Wait—what do you mean, you haven’t decided if you’re going?” I give a helpless shrug. “You’re not fucking going, Hannah!” His sharp voice makes me wince. “Says who? You? Because last I checked, you and I aren’t dating. We’re just fooling around.” “Is that what you really—” He stops, his mouth twisting in a scowl. “You know what? I guess you’re right. I guess we’re just fooling around.”

“You said you don’t do girlfriends,” I say weakly. “I said I don’t have time for a girlfriend,” he shoots back. “But guess what—priorities change.” I falter. “So you’re saying you want me to be your girlfriend?” “Yeah, maybe that’s what I’m saying.”

“I know you’re into me, Wellsy. And I’m definitely into you. Would it really be so bad if we made this thing official?”

“I’m just your sex therapist, right? Actually, no, I’m your fucking fluffer.” “Fluffer?” I say blankly. “Like in porn,” he mutters. “They bring in the fluffer to suck off the dudes between takes so they stay hard.” Anger colors his tone. “That was my job, right? To get you nice and hot for Kohl? To get you ready to bone him?”

I stare at the empty space he was taking up a second ago. I know exactly what it is. Garrett’s hoarse words echo in my head, and a vise of emotion constricts my heart, because I’m pretty sure I know exactly what it is too. And I’m scared that because of my split-second moment of indecision, I just threw it all away.

I don’t know what I was thinking taking that whole anti-girlfriend position. Because having a girlfriend? Fucking rocks. Seriously. I get to have sex whenever I want without having to work for it. I have someone to vent to after a shitty day or a devastating loss on the ice. I can make the worst jokes on the planet and chances are Hannah will laugh at them. Oh, and I love being with her, plain and simple.

“Baby, I could watch you watching paint dry, and I still wouldn’t be bored.” Garrett Graham, my own personal sweet-talker.

She appears to be in her mid-thirties, but it’s hard to judge because she’s got what I like to call “old eyes.” Those deep, wise eyes that reveal a person has lived through several lifetimes already.

Nothing about her elegant outfit or perfect smile hints that she’s seen hard times, but the trauma survivor in me immediately feels an odd kinship with her.

“I’m not sure anyone ever told you this, but spontaneity has the tendency to backfire on you.”

For a second I think he might actually strike me. I almost want him to. That way I can strike back. I can smash my fists into his pathetic face and show him what it’s like to get beat on by someone who’s supposed to love you.

“Because you’re not like him. No matter how angry someone made you, you wouldn’t hit them.”

“I’m not saying you’re incapable of violence. Everyone is capable of it. I’m saying you wouldn’t hurt someone you love. At least not intentionally.”

Well, that’s the best revenge right there, Garrett. Living well and being happy is how we get over the shit in our past.

I want him to be happy. Even if that means I have to be miserable.

God, he’s such a jackass. I love him.

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.

Then he kisses me, and everything in my world is right again.

I break down in laughter. “Why is nothing ever simple with us?” “Hey,” she protests. “We’re more interesting this way.” I can’t argue with that.

I don’t look back these days. I only look forward.