Chapter 5: THE DEAL

I ran three blocks from the diner without stopping. Carter shouted my name from the back alley, but my ears were ringing way too loud to turn around.

My landlord had just hung up on me. That meant by 9:00 AM tomorrow, I was getting tossed onto the sidewalk like trash.

Literal wet cardboard box life, here I come.

I threw my tote bag onto our scuffed coffee table, sending a stack of unopened mail flying, and dropped onto the green couch.

The springs groaned underneath me. I stared up at the yellow water stain on the ceiling shaped like Ohio, my chest squeezing so hard I couldn't get a full breath.

My feet burned inside my cheap black non-slip shoes. My apron was shoved in my bag, reeking of grease and maple syrup. Everything was garbage. My whole life was one big joke.

Allie wandered out of the tiny kitchen holding a half empty bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. She took one look at my face, stopped dead in the doorway, and let out a long sigh.

"Okay, spill," she said, crunching on a chip. "What did Old Man Jenkins say?"

"Rent check bounced," I mumbled, slamming my palms into my eyes until blue stars popped in my vision. "NSF. Zero balance. Jenkins called mid shift to tell me if twelve hundred bucks isn't in his greasy hands by tomorrow morning, he's throwing my bed on the curb and changing the deadbolt."

"What a total dick," Allie groaned. She dropped onto the cushion next to me, making the springs squeak again. "I wish I could lend it to you, Clara, but my checking account has literally twelve dollars in it."

She kicked my knee with her socked foot.

"Hey... try to look at the upside. Justin and his band came into the diner today, right? Did you talk to him?"

I pulled my hands down just enough to glare at her. "No."

"Clara! Tell me you said something!"

"No," I repeated, dropping my arms into my lap. "Al, I looked hideous. My hair was sticking up in three directions, my apron had old hashbrown grease smeared across the pocket, and I smelled like fried onions. I am not talking to my crush looking like a dumpster fire. I still have an ounce of dignity left, lol."

Allie smirked. That stupid, evil little glint showed up in her eyes.

"Oops. Well, lucky for you, I have a fix."

I threw my head back against the flat cushion and groaned at the ceiling. "What now, Allie?"

"The Briar hockey team is having a huge house party tonight," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Guess who's going?"

"Carter?" I scoffed, crossing my arms tight. "You know I hate hockey guys. They're all obnoxious, loud, and smell like cheap body spray."

"No, idiot," Allie grinned, slapping my leg. "Justin. His band is hanging out with the team tonight."

"Great for him," I grunted. "You know I don't do parties. Sticky floors, warm beer, fifty guys screaming over rap music? Hard pass."

"I know you have a party phobia," she said, grabbing my shoulder to make me look at her. "But when else are you gonna see him? When you're wiping down syrup bottles looking like a stressed rat?"

"Okay, fair point," I mumbled, my brain spinning out. "But I'm getting kicked out in twelve hours. I kind of need to pack my life into garbage bags. Being homeless is a pretty huge distraction."

"Fuck Jenkins!" Allie waved her hand like my eviction was just a bad weather forecast. "You'll just sleep in my bed. You're living under my lease now. We'll sort out the rest on Monday."

A sharp laugh burst out of my mouth. A real, loud laugh that actually broke through the heavy brick sitting on my chest all afternoon. I bent over, shaking my head at her insane brain.

"You are completely out of your mind."

"I am practical!" Allie pointed a Dorito straight at my nose. "So? What's the verdict?"

I looked at her, running the math in my head. Sleeping on the street in twelve hours, or one night of bad decisions where I might actually get to talk to the guy I'd been staring at for six months? I had nothing left to lose anyway.

"Fine," I sighed, throwing my hands up. "I'll go."

"Jackpot!" Allie bounced off the couch like she just won the lottery. "Now I'm dressing you up like a rockstar's girlfriend."

I looked down at my oversized grey hoodie and baggy jeans. "What's wrong with how I dress?"

"Don't start with me," Allie snorted, grabbing my wrist and dragging me toward the tiny bathroom. "Tonight your chest needs to be doing the talking. We dress for the male gaze. For the Justin gaze."

"You're insane," I muttered, following her down the hallway.

"Rather be insane than boring!" she yelled back.

An hour later, I barely recognized the girl in the cracked mirror.

Allie had somehow crammed me into a tight, dark emerald green mini dress with thin straps that shoved my chest up into my throat. My dark hair hung down in big messy curls, and my lips were covered in dark berry gloss. I looked... surprisingly hot. Like, actually good.

Twenty minutes later, we were squeezed inside the Briar Hockey House.

The bass vibrated straight through the floorboards, rattling my knees. Strobe lights flashed through a cloud of smoke, red cups covered every table and counter, and a hundred college kids were packed together, screaming lyrics and drinking. The air smelled like cheap vodka, sweat, and bad choices.

Allie grabbed my wrist and pulled me close so she could scream over the music.

"Look! There's Justin!"

My heart hammered against my ribs like a caged animal.

I looked across the packed living room. Leaning against the open patio door with a red cup in his hand was Justin. He had that messy brown hair, a beaten up leather jacket, and that effortless cool guy look that made my stomach turn inside out.

"Holy shit, he looks so good," I wheezed out, my face burning under the party lights. "I'm gonna pass out."

"Go talk to him!" Allie yelled, shoving my back toward the crowd. "He's all yours!"

I smoothed down the tight dress, my hands shaking. "Do I look okay? Allie, be honest."

"You look like a thousand dollar slut bitch, now go," Allie deadpanned, giving me two thumbs up.

I blinked. "Is that a compliment?"

"Yes, go!" Allie laughed, turning me around by the shoulders. "He's standing right there."

"Okay," I whispered, taking a shaky breath. "Okay. I can do this."

I took two steps toward the patio. Then three. I rehearsed my line in my head over and over. Hey Justin... cool party, right? Simple. Normal. Not creepy.

I was five feet away. He turned his head. He was right there.

Then some giant, wasted guy in a varsity jacket stumbled sideways out of nowhere and slammed his shoulder right into mine.

"Whoa, watch it!" the guy slurred, sloshing a cup full of sticky, bright blue jungle juice directly down the front of my green dress.

The cold liquid soaked straight through the thin fabric, drenching my chest and stomach. It ran down my legs in sticky streams.

"Oh my god!" I squeaked, freezing on the spot.

Nearby people turned and laughed. I stood there in the middle of the room, covered in cheap blue booze, my face burning so hot I wished a trapdoor would open up under my feet.

I looked up, and my heart dropped into my stomach. Justin was staring right at me.

"Clara, right?" Justin asked, stepping forward with a slight frown, looking at the blue mess on my front. "From the cafe?"

"Uh... yeah..." I choked out, my head going completely blank. "It's... I..."

I was dying. Actual death on the floor.

A heavy, warm weight dropped over my shivering shoulders.

The smell of expensive cologne, leather, and laundry detergent wrapped around me. I blinked down and saw a dark designer suit jacket draped over my shoulders, covering up the sticky stain completely.

Warm, rough fingers brushed my arm, pulling me back against a solid chest.

"Hey, babe," Carter's low voice sounded right by my ear, loud enough to carry over the music. "I told you to stay near me. Now look at you, getting drinks spilled on you."

My jaw went slack. Across the room, I saw Allie standing by the kitchen counter, her mouth hanging open. What the fuck is he doing? she mouthed at me, her eyes wide.

"Babe?" I whispered, staring up at Carter like he'd lost his mind.

Carter didn't look down at me. His blue eyes were locked right onto Justin. He shifted his broad shoulders, stepping slightly in front of me and taking up the whole space.

"What's up, man?" Justin said, blinking in surprise as he looked between us.

"Good," Carter said, totally relaxed. He slid a heavy arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. The heat of his body burned through my damp dress. "Enjoying the party?"

"Yeah," Justin said, clearing his throat and looking super uncomfortable. "Uh... I'll let you guys get back to it."

"Appreciate it, man," Carter said smoothly.

Justin gave a weird little nod, turned around, and walked off into the crowd.

The second Justin was out of sight, I ripped Carter's jacket off my shoulders and shoved his chest with both hands.

He didn't move an inch. He just stood there with that same annoying smirk on his face.

"What the fuck was that?" I hissed, my voice shaking. "You just ruined my shot with Justin! And babe? Are you insane?"

"Relax," Carter said, taking his jacket back and casually tossing it over his arm. "He wasn't gonna fall for you anyway."

"Excuse me?" My blood spiked.

"He will now," Carter said, tilting his head to look down at me.

I blinked, totally confused by his dumb logic. "What does that even mean?"

"Guys want what another guy has," Carter said, taking a step closer so I had to tilt my neck up. His voice dropped low and arrogant. "Especially when the other guy is a six-foot-two hockey player."

I stared at him, disgusted. "You really think you're God's gift, don't you?"

"I'm just stating facts," Carter shrugged, his eyes bright under the dark lights.

"Whatever," I snapped, rubbing my temple where a headache was pounding. "Where are you going with this, Graham?"

"Simple, Clara," Carter said, leaning down until his mouth was right near my ear. "I act as your fake boyfriend to make Justin chase you. You help me pass my psych exams and play my fake fiancée for my dad."

I froze, trying to process the madness. "And you think this ridiculous plan works?"

Carter let out a low chuckle against my ear. "He's literally looking at you right now."

My pulse jumped. I slowly turned my head, looking past the dance floor toward the kitchen counter.

Justin was standing near the fridge, cup in hand, staring straight at us with his eyes wide open.

"Oh my god," I whispered. "He is."

"Told you," Carter murmured behind me.

I turned back, narrowing my eyes at the hockey captain, searching for the catch. "You still have to pay me. I'm not playing rich family dress-up for free."

Carter didn't hesitate. "Done. And I already cleared your rent with Jenkins."

My mouth fell open again. "What? How did you even know about my rent?"

Carter smirked, running a hand through his dark hair like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm Carter Graham."

He held out a large, calloused hand, his blue eyes locked onto mine.

"So, do we have a deal?"

I looked at his hand. I looked at the suit jacket over his arm. I looked back at Justin, who was still staring from across the room.

My tuition would be covered. My landlord wouldn't throw my clothes into the street. And the guy I'd been pining over was actually paying attention to me.

I took a breath, reached out, and gripped his warm hand.

"Deal."