I give a curt nod, but I think we both know that unless we happen to run into each other at another party, it’s unlikely we’ll hang out again. Still, I place a kiss on her cheek and close the door behind her.
The light from the kitchen is just bright enough to see half of the couch from the living room. I should ignore it. I should head straight to my room. I’ve spent more than half the night thinking about her already. I sent home a sure thing because I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I should head straight to my room without a second glance.
I don’t.
My eyes squint as I try adjusting to the darkness.
“Such a gentleman, Hall.”
I breathe a sigh of relief when Chloe’s voice hits me, and she’s alone on the couch.
“Is that my reputation?” I ask with equal sarcasm because I know she thinks I hooked up with that girl. And I won’t correct her. I let people think whatever they want about me. You throw a punch on the ice, and you’re a hothead. You hook up at a frat party once or twice, and you’re a playboy. I learned a while ago that it’s a waste of my time trying to change anyone’s perception of me.
“What is it with guys not wanting to let you sleep over after?”
If she’s asking, I’m assuming she doesn’t have many sleepovers at Nathan’s. I should be honest and tell her that once a woman gets in your bed, it feels like they’re trying to get closer to you, and it makes it harder for them to leave, both in the morning and from your life. But when I look at Chloe with her knees tucked up to her chest, I can’t bring myself to deliver that blow.
“I think it’s my possessive personality. My bed is mine, and I’ve never really cared to have anyone in my space.”
She nods her head once with pursed lips, and I can’t tell if that answer satisfies her or catches her off guard. I’m about to ask, but she shifts on the couch, lying on her side and cupping a hand under her cheek.
The moonlight reflects off the still lake water, leaving enough light for me to turn off the dimmer and make my way to my room.
“You were right about him.”
I freeze with one hand on the doorknob as her whispered words sink in.
“Nathan,” she clarifies when I turn to face her. “He texted me earlier, asking if I could come pick him up from another party.”
“But you decided to stay?”
I swallow, waiting for her response, but even though her eyes are fixated on mine, she’s not really looking at me. Hesitantly, I take a step toward the couch, sitting at the far end.From this angle and this close up, I’m able to catch the gleam on her face.
“I think I was so defensive earlier because I really did believe that this time would be different.”
“What would be different?”
She swipes at her cheek, and my chest grows heavy. “Last semester, I stopped reaching out, and when he got back after summer break, he told me he missed me, and like the good little dog I am, I went running right back to him.” She huffs a breath, but it feels more like a way to hide the hurt in her voice.
I know Nathan from passing. We’re not friends by any stretch of the imagination, but for a moment, I almost wish we were, so I could ask him what thehellis wrong with him.
“Fuck that guy, Chloe. He’s an idiot.”
She shakes her head, burying her face into the crook of her elbow.
“I’m serious. He doesn’t want to claim you as his girlfriend, went out to a party, couldn’t pull tail, and then expects you to drop your life for him? Dude’s a loser.”
She shifts onto her back, twisting her lips like she’s fighting back tears.
“He’s not even hot,” I continue. “He looks like someone who would jerk off toAll Dogs Go to Heaven.”
That pulls a laugh from her. “What?” she asks through a full smile.
“I don’t know.” I shrug, spreading my legs further in front of me. “Seems like something a loser would do.”
“He’s not, though.” She wraps her arms around her middle but is at least comfortable enough to extend her legs. Her feet brush my thigh, and I don’t think I’ve ever held so still. “He’s not a loser, or an idiot, or anything else. If anything, I’m the idiot for thinking he would change his mind about us.”
I pull my gaze from where we’re touching, but I still feelher warmth through my sweatpant-covered legs. “Why are you holding on to him so tight?” I hear myself voice my questions out loud. “Why him?”
