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“That’s a senior-level requirement,” she explains. “Freshmen and sophomores can sing whatever they want because they’re not in the running for the scholarships.”
“Yeah, my sister had to sing an original,” Beau tells us. “She was in the senior group. Joanna Maxwell? Do you know her?”
Hannah gasps. “Joanna’s your sister? I heard she landed a part on Broadway this summer.”
“She did!” Beau beams with pride. “My big sis is a Broadway star. How ’bout that?”
We’re drawing even more stares now that we’re chatting with the birthday boy, but Hannah seems oblivious to it. I, on the other hand, am annoyingly aware of the attention—from one person in particular. Kohl has just entered the living room, and his lips pinch when our gazes meet. I nod in hello, then turn my head and very deliberately plant a kiss on Hannah’s cheek.
Her head jerks up in surprise, so I justify the random gesture by saying, “I’ll be right back. Going to grab another beer.”
“Okay.” She instantly turns back to Beau and they continue chatting about his sister.
I’m not sensing any romantic interest on her part, though, which brings an odd pang of relief. The real threat is across the room, and he marches purposefully in our direction the second I step away from Hannah and Beau.
I intercept Justin before he can reach the chatting duo, giving him a casual slap on the arm. “Kohl. Great party, huh?”
His nod is absent-minded, his gaze still focused beyond my shoulder at Hannah. Fuck. Can he actually be interested in her? I figured this big charade of ours wouldn’t result in anything I needed to worry about, but evidently my plan is working too well. Kohl only has eyes for Hannah, and I don’t like it. Not one bit.
I glance at his empty hands and grin. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”
“Naah, I’m good.” He’s already brushing past me, heading right where I don’t want him to go.
The moment Hannah notices Justin, her cheeks turn pink and a startled look crosses her eyes, but she recovers quickly and greets him with a hesitant smile.
Oh hell no. My back snaps straighter than a hockey stick. I want to stalk over there and yank her away from Kohl. Or better yet, yank her right into my arms and kiss the living daylights out of her.
I do neither—because this time I’m the one being intercepted.
Kendall appears in my path, her long blond hair braided over one shoulder, the tail end of it dangling in her cleavage. She’s dressed to the nines in a teeny red dress and impossibly high heels, but her expression is stormy as fuck.
“Hi,” she says tightly.
“Hey.” I clear my throat. “How’s it going?”
Her lips flatten in displeasure. “Seriously? You’re on a date and that’s what you say to me?”
Shit. Half my attention remains on Hannah, who is now laughing at something Kohl said. Thankfully Beau is still there to serve as a buffer, but I’m not happy to see her and Justin looking so chummy.
The rest of my attention is on Kendall, who I’m suddenly afraid might make a scene.
“You said you didn’t want a girlfriend,” she hisses out.
“I don’t,” I’m quick to reply.
She’s so pissed she’s actually trembling. “Then how do you explain her?” One manicured finger lifts in Hannah’s direction.
Great. Well, now I’m screwed. I can’t insist that it’s not a date, because Kohl is supposed to think it is. But if I say it is a date, Kendall might very well slap me.
I lower my voice. “She’s not my girlfriend. It’s a date, yeah, but it’s not a serious thing, okay?”
“No, not okay. I’m really into you! And if you’re not into me, then fine. But at least have the decency to?—”
“Why?” I’m unable to stop the question that had bitten at my tongue last week when she and I called it quits.
Kendall blinks in confusion. “Why what?”
“Why are you into me?”
