"I can't remember what happened that night. I'm not talking slippery details or fuzzy-edged visions; I mean a complete and utter blackout. Like I wasn't even there. Except... I know I was."
Since the death of her boyfriend six months ago, Morgan Cai...
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When Hanna burst into our dorm room on Friday evening, she was buzzing with palpable energy.
And maybe also something more—because her ponytail was messy and I could smell alcohol on her breath when she came up to where I was sitting, jolting me out of my quiet reading session. I didn't get any warning before she plunked herself down on the end of my bed, the cheap mattress sinking under the extra weight. Just a couple of seconds to stuff the book I'd been reading under the blanket—which, unfortunately, wasn't enough.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Nothing."
Her eyebrows raised so far they almost disappeared into her hairline. "Didn't seem like nothing to me. Seemed like a book."
"I'm reading. That's not unusual," I pointed out.
"It's not, but you acting shady as hell definitely is." Then, before I could do anything to stop her, she'd snatched up the blanket herself and pulled out the paperback I was trying to hide. "Aha! Jackpot!"
Until that point, I'd managed to conceal My Bad Boy Butler from Hanna, which was an impressive feat when sharing a room. I'd told her about Josh, of course, though in heavily-censored snippets that wouldn't get her overexcited. I didn't want to jinx anything. It already seemed so out of the ordinary that I was convinced the universe had made some kind of mistake and would seize any chance to correct the natural order again. Right now, all she knew was that there was this guy, and he was kind of cute, and it would be nice if we got to talk more while volunteering.
I hadn't told her about the book—nor the subtle request for a date that had come with it.
Until now.
I watched her puzzled expression develop. She turned to me. "What is this?"
"My Bad Boy Butler?" I tried, even though she was capable of reading the title herself. And already had. "This year's sexiest read, with a side dish of sizzling service?"
"Since when do you read raunchy romance novels? Wait... do we need a sock-on-the-door system or something to let me know when I need to stay away from this room?"
"No!" I said quickly. "It's not like that."
I could tell she didn't believe me.
"I don't read this kind of stuff usually," I went on. "And the book's every bit as terrible as it looks. But why I'm reading it... well, it's hard to explain. Josh gave it to me."
Her ears pricked up like she was a wide-eyed puppy who'd heard a fleeting mention of a walk. "Josh?" she echoed. "You mean the guy from the volunteer group?"
I nodded. "We were on this collection together at the weekend—"
