“No.” But then I replayed my words in my head—I sounded like a dick. I shook my head. “That’s not what I meant.”

   “Sure.” Amusement filled her eyes. I wanted to laugh with her, but she suddenly grew serious and took a step back.

   Then the worst thing that could possibly happen happened.

   “Babe!” Hannah shouted.

   “Fuck.”

   She was at my side instantly. “I was hoping to catch up with you before you left.” She rose up on her toes and kissed my cheek.

   Every single part of my body tensed.

   I didn’t want her there. I didn’t want Abby—or whatever her name was—to see us together. Not like this.

   “Hey . . .” Hannah cooed. She was talking to Not Abby. “You’re in my gym class, right?”

   She nodded.

   “Chloe, is it?”

   She chewed her lip and then nodded once.

   Chloe.

   Her eyes met mine—conveying an emotion I couldn’t decipher. And then she turned, leaned over the back door of her car, and reached for something. She held my letterman jacket out to Hannah. “I spilled soda on your boyfriend’s jacket, and I offered to dry-clean it; he was just asking for it back.”

   “Oh,” Hannah said quietly, taking it from her hands.

   I stood there frozen, not knowing what to say or do. Then Hannah’s fingernails dug into my forearms, and she turned me to face her. My eyes never left Chloe. Not until the wrong pair of lips brushed against mine, and her tongue invaded my mouth.

   Then I heard a car start.

   Pushing Hannah away, I spun around, but Chloe was already hauling ass out of there. I turned back to Hannah. “This game’s getting a little old, don’t you think?”

   She shrugged, examined her nails, and muttered, “Call me,” before spinning on her heels and walking away.

CHAPTER FIVE

   Chloe

   It wasn’t like I was going to be late for my first day of work at the bowling alley, but I had wanted to arrive early and make a good impression. I hadn’t expected Hunter to come chasing after me at school. In fact, I had expected exactly what I’d gotten from him over the last four years—nothing.

   I rushed to change into the uniform that Josh, the guy who was training me, had handed me. They came in only one size: whore.

   It was a tight fit, especially across my chest, and the top ended just below my belly button, leaving about an inch of skin between it and the band of my jeans. I’d be sure to order a larger size for my next shift.

   I’d be working at the snack bar, which was perfect for me. I liked mundane, monotonous-type jobs that never led anywhere.

   “Perfect,” Josh said, eyeing me up and down as I made my way to my post. I hadn’t decided if the guy was a complete sleaze or just an idiot. He looked to be around my age, but he told me he worked full-time, which meant that he was either older, or hadn’t cared much for high school and had dropped out.

   “I’ll have to order a larger size,” I told him.

   “Or . . .” He paused and lifted the counter door for me. “You could keep it and make four times the tips.”

   “And compromise my soul?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be okay. Thank you for the suggestion, though.”

   He shrugged and led me through a doorway into the kitchen prep area and then to a separate storeroom that was reserved for staff. He told me I could keep my stuff there. Back in the snack bar, he began to show me the equipment. Just as he was about to demonstrate how to operate the coffee machine, a voice interrupted us. “Yo, Josh.”

   I froze.

   I didn’t even have to see him to know who it was. Slowly, I turned around and faced him. Blake/Hunter’s eyes practically fell out of his head when he saw me. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Next to me, Josh laughed. “Hunter, this is Chloe. Chloe—Hunter.”

   We mirrored each other’s reactions. Frozen. Silent. Finally, he looked away. But where he looked didn’t make me feel any better. His eyes zoned in on my breasts. I crossed my arms and tried to cover them. A slow smile began to spread across his face. “You work here?” he asked.

   Josh answered for me. “As of today, from three ’til nine, Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, it’ll be us three.”

   “Us three?” I choked out.

   Blake/Hunter chuckled. He chewed his lip, shaking his head slowly from side to side. Then he took a big gulp of the soda he held in his hand. I pried my eyes away from his lips. I knew what those lips tasted like. And I knew that I shouldn’t have kissed him, but I thought I’d never have to deal with him again. “I quit,” I announced.

   Blake/Hunter choked on his drink. Tugging my shirt lower, I moved to the counter and began to lift the door. A pair of heavy forearms thumped down on it. “You’re not quitting,” he said. He was smiling again, a smile so wide it made him look smug.

   My eyes narrowed.

   Josh turned to me. “Okay. I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but if you want to quit because of Hunter, there’s no need. He works desk and shoes. You won’t even see each other. And I need you here with me. I’ll even go out back and check for a larger shirt.”

   “But you said this was the only size you ha—”

   Blake/Hunter’s laugh cut me off. He reached over with his hand up and high-fived Josh just as Josh was turning to walk into the storeroom, I assumed to get my new shirt.

   “You guys are assholes,” I yelled at Josh, but I kept my eyes on Blake/Hunter.

   “My first name’s Blake. My last name’s Hunter,” he said, leaning against the counter. His biceps flexed against his sleeves. Only then, did I realize we were wearing the same uniform. “Just so you’re not confused, I didn’t lie to you. Everyone calls me Hunter. I’m a jock”—he shrugged—“and my dad’s ex-army, so it kind of just happened.”

   “Oh.”

   He nodded. “And your name’s Chloe?”

   It was my turn to nod.

   “And you go to my school.”

   I nodded again. “But contrary to popular belief, I don’t think it’s actually your school.”

   He laughed then, a genuine laugh that reached his eyes, his light blue eyes. I had never known the strength of them until Saturday night. Not until he’d held my gaze and managed to tell me in a few sentences what I’d wanted to hear my entire life. It hadn’t mattered that he was a stranger. Or that he had had no idea what kind of impact his words would have. He had given me more than I’d come to expect from anyone.