Garrett

“It might be time to kick his ass.”

I stretch out on my girlfriend’s twin bed and prop my hands behind my head. The bed is too damn small—my bare feet are dangling off the edge, and Hannah pinches my big toe as she walks to her desk. “You’re not kicking his ass, dude. He’s your best friend.”

Despite my Logan-directed annoyance, I can’t help but grin when she calls me dude. I love it. I love her.

What I’m not loving is my best friend’s continued infatuation with my girl.

Logan thinks he’s been successful at hiding his feelings for Hannah. Yeah fucking right. It’s so obvious he may as well take out an ad in the newspaper with the caption: I WANT TO BONE GARRETT GRAHAM’S WOMAN.

I like to think of myself as a patient man. Or at least I am on the ice. I wait for the perfect time to pass the puck, wait for the perfect shot.

But John Logan is testing my patience. I love the guy, I really do, but goddamn it, he needs to get over this.

My girlfriend peels off the tacky polyester uniform she wears to the 50s-themed diner where she works. She drapes it over the desk chair, her back turned to me, and I’m momentarily distracted by her teeny bikini panties and black sports bra. Her ass is a fucking dream. My fingers tingle with the urge to squeeze it, and a groan slips out of my mouth.

Hannah turns toward me. She arches one dark eyebrow. “You okay there, bud?”

I slide my hand down to my crotch and cup myself over my boxers. “No, I’m not okay. I’m feeling insecure. Come here and make it better.”

Laughing, she kneels on the bed in her underwear, but doesn’t make a move to touch me. “You are the most secure person I know, babe. You don’t need me to do a damn thing.”

I give her a stubborn look and rub my semi-hard dick. “Nuh-uh, I totally need reassurance. I have recurring nightmares about you leaving me for my best friend.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Worry flickers in her green eyes. “Do you actually think I return Logan’s feelings? Because I don’t, Garrett. I promise—”

“I know you don’t,” I cut in, and then I tug her on top of me, feeling bad for making her worry. “I’m just being a brat, Wellsy. Feel free to ignore me.”

Hannah’s warm lips tickle my neck as she kisses me there. Then she kisses her way up to my mouth until her lips are pressed tight to mine. “I would never leave you for Logan,” she murmurs, and I shiver when she nibbles on my bottom lip. “He’s hot, sure, but—”

“Wait, what? What do you mean, he’s hot?”

I thread my fingers through her hair and yank her head up. I don’t know whether I should feel outraged. I haven’t had a serious girlfriend in a long time, but I’m not completely clueless about relationships. Your girlfriend isn’t supposed to say your best friend is hot, right? I’m not being crazy, am I?

On the other hand, Hannah’s honesty is my favorite thing about her.

“I mean he’s hot,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Hell, so is Dean. And Tucker. Your roommates are all hotties. Deal with it.”

I can’t stop from growling. I sit up, keeping her securely in my lap, and grasp her waist with both hands. “Fuck, marry, kill,” I order. “Right now.”

Hannah bursts out laughing. “What?”

“Logan, Dean and Tuck,” I say in a stern voice. “Give me a fuck, marry, kill.” When she protests, I pinch her hip. “I mean it, Wellsy. I want to know which one of my roommates you’d—”

The bedroom door swings open before I can finish.

“Oops, am I interrupting?” Without waiting for a “Hell yes!”, Hannah’s roommate Allie saunters into the room and marches toward the closet. She seems oblivious to the fact that I’m in my boxers and Hannah is half-dressed.

“I wanted to borrow your green sweater—the V-neck with the extra long sleeves? I noticed you haven’t worn it in ages, so it’s cool if I borrow it, right?” Allie is already rummaging through the hangers.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Hannah answers. She scowls at me before adding, “And your timing is perfect. Garrett was trying to pick a fight.”

“Oooh, what are we fighting about?” Allie asks without turning around. Her voice is muffled as she pokes her head deeper into the closet.

I glare at my girlfriend. “We’re not fighting.”

“He wants me to fuck, marry, kill his roommates,” Hannah calls out. “And we all know there’s no right answer to that. Ergo, picking a fight.”

Allie spins around, looking at Hannah as if she’s nuts. “Of course there’s a right answer.”

Fuck. Now I’m curious. “Yeah?” I say slowly.

“Um, yeah.” Hannah’s roommate tucks the green sweater under her arm. “Fuck Logan, marry Tucker, kill Dean. It’s a no-brainer.” With that, Allie flounces to the door. “Okay, I’m outta here. I have a date with Sean tonight.”

After she’s gone, I plant my hands on Hannah’s hips again. “Your turn.”

She sighs heavily. “Fine. You want me to answer? I’ll answer.” Leaning forward, she brings her mouth close to my ear. “I’d fuck…Garrett Graham.” She kisses my cheek. “I’d marry…Garrett Graham.” She kisses my other cheek. “And I’d kill…anyone but Garrett Graham.” She kisses my lips, and I make a desperate sound when her tongue slips inside my mouth.

Jesus. I love kissing her. And her soft, earnest words have flooded my chest with warmth. Truth be told, I’ve never questioned Hannah’s love for me. Ever. What we have is goddamn perfect.

I have no doubt that Logan will get over whatever he thinks he feels for her.

Me? I’m gone for this girl. She’s it for me.

And as she melts against my body and devours my mouth with single-minded purpose, as if her whole world is centered on this one, breathless kiss…I know I’m it for her.