“Were?”
“Yeah, I hooked up with a couple girls. No one in our group, just girls from other schools.”
“Oh.”
“But it made me miss you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Like, you’re…different—from them.”
My heart sped. It was what I’d been hoping for for weeks. I almost couldn’t believe the dress had actually worked, as if I’d been clinging to some false hope all along. “What’re you saying, Trey?”
He pulled back and looked between us at our feet. “So are you here with Chad or not?”
I shook my head.
“Maybe we could go somewhere and talk,” he said. “I got a room upstairs.”
“For you and Tiff?” I asked, stepping away.
“No, no,” he said, grasping my forearm and coaxing me back. “Just, like, to have it. Just in case.”
My eyes narrowed on him. “Okay,” I said hesitantly. I wanted that time with him, even if it was meant for someone else. “Let’s go.”
“Great.” He kissed me on the cheek. His hand slid into mine. We walked to the elevator, and he fished in his back pocket for the keycard.
“I know I said I wanted space,” he said. We watched the numbers tick off as we ascended. “But obviously I still love you.”
The elevator doors opened with a ding. I followed him to the room, clutching my purse, walking behind him slightly.
One of his frat brothers, Duncan, appeared around the corner and barreled toward us.
“Richards,” he yelled belligerently. “You bastard. It’s not even nine o’clock, and you’re already getting some ass.”
Trey’s laugh echoed through the otherwise quiet hallway. He slid the keycard from the slot and pushed the door open. “Fuck off, D. This is my girlfriend.”
Duncan nodded at me, his body wavering. “No shit, you think I don’t know Alex? Listen, you two, make sure you use protection. Think I got a—” His eyes went blurry as he patted his pockets. “Got a Trojan or something—”
Trey rolled his eyes. “Dude. It’s a frat party. You think I don’t have condoms? I’m not a fucking idiot.”
I frowned. The thought of him with Tiff or even other girls in Mexico made my stomach churn. Obviously he hadn’t given me a second thought while I’d been here, pining away, working my freshly-slapped ass off so I could win him back.
Duncan pointed at Trey. “You still owe me a drink, you bastard.”
“The drinks are free.”
“I don’t give a fuck. You owe me.”
“Fine,” Trey said, laughing again. “We’ll see you downstairs in a little bit.”
Trey ushered me into the room. He fumbled for the light switch, then seemed to change his mind and headed for the lamp, turning on the single low light. I watched him as he ran a hand through his hair.
“You didn’t miss much in Mexico,” he said. “Just a lot of that kind of shit.”
I imagined several Duncans and Treys running around the dingy bars, sand raining from their hair while they danced with girls in skimpy tops.
He crossed the room to me and swept my hair over my shoulder. He finally looked me in the eyes long and hard. There was something missing from that look, but it was no different than any look he’d ever given me. It hit me that it wasn’t the way I wanted to be looked at—and that maybe I’d been wrong these last couple weeks about what I needed.
