The Deal (Off-Campus, #1)

by Elle Kennedy

“I want to murder him in his sleep, A. No, I want to murder him when he’s awake so he can see the joy on my face when I do it.”

I’ve never met anyone who sleeps with so many pillows. Maybe he needs them to cradle his massive ego.

“Your voice is…fuck, Wellsy, it’s beautiful.” My cheeks heat up. “You think so?” His impassioned expression tells me he’s dead serious. “Play something else,” he orders. “Um. What do you want to hear?” “Anything. I don’t care.” I’m startled by the intensity in his voice, the emotion now glittering in his gray eyes. “I just need to hear you sing again.”

“Please,” he says softly.

“Just have to pee first.” He snickers. “TMI.” “People pee, Garrett. Deal with it.”

What if I’d grown up to be a scrawny twig with the coordination of a Kleenex box?

I doubt there’s a guy out there who believes that men and women are capable of being purely platonic.

“Hey, come on, don’t cry,” he begs. “It breaks my fucking heart to hear you cry.”

“Are you taking human growth hormones or something?” I snatch my hand back, fighting another rush of nervousness. “There’s no way that huge man monster is fitting inside me!”

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 decide it might be time to reevaluate my stance on girlfriends.

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? Why did it take seeing a stupid A on your midterm to make me notice?”

“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 sorry I ran off,” I concede. “But I’m not sorry that I want to be with you.”

“Then okay.” Hannah smiles at me. “Let’s make it official.”

“I’m hot for you, Garrett. Only you.”

“Now can we please go inside? I’m freezing my butt off and I need my fluffer to warm me up.” I narrow my eyes. “Excuse me?” She blinks innocently. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I say fluffer?” Her smile lights up her whole face. “I meant boyfriend.” Sweetest words I’ve ever heard in my life.

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

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.