Page 97 of From Now On

“I’m not her favorite person, huh?” Ben says as Harlow heads back to the line without saying another word to him.

Conor is watching her. Hunter’s staring straight ahead, and it causes this strange spasm in my stomach. Maybe that’s my answer—we’re back on campus and we’re back to being barely acquaintances.

“She’s my best friend,” I reply. “And you blindsided me, Ben.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry about that. Truly, I am. Changing my mind about New York—it had nothing to do with you, Eve.”

I nod.

I know it didn’t. And that’s the problem. He wasn’t willing to move to New York for me after he changed his mind about film school. Just like I wasn’t willing to move to Maine for him, even though I could waitress and paint in a small town just as easily—more easily, probably—as I could in Manhattan.

And Ben knew that.

Knew it so certainly he didn’t even bother asking me to.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

HUNTER

Gaffney’s is packed. It’salwayspacked, but Tuesdays—when wings and pints are offered at half price—are extra chaotic.

There are perks to being a member of a championship-winning sports team, though.

“Go ahead, man,” some guy I’ve never seen before says, stepping aside so I can take his spot at the bar. “Awesome season.”

I give him an appreciative nod before stepping up to the counter. The varnished wood is worn in spots, scratched in others.

A blonde appears with a white rag in hand, swiping up a spill someone left behind. I recognize her. Her name is Stacey, according to the name tag attached to her cleavage.

She recognizes me too. “Hey, Hunter.”

“Hey. Pint of IPA, please.”

I already finished my first beer, and usually that’s my limit on school nights. But Phillips drove us in his fire engine–colored truck, and I had a long day, so I’m making an exception. Plus, they’re half price, so it’s basically like drinking one.

“Coming right up,” Stacey says.

She reappears with a fresh beer less than a minute later.

“Conor still with the redhead?” Stacey asks as she slides it to me.

“Yep,” I answer.

Not the first time I’ve been asked about Hart’s relationship status today, and I’m guessing it won’t be the last. His nickname on campus is “Hart-breaker.” And honestly, it doesn’t have much to do with his last name.

Stacey makes a face, then glances toward the group of my teammates. “Guys’ night?”

“I guess.”

Neither Rylan nor Harlow are here. And last I heard Jack Williams was dating someone, but his girlfriend isn’t at Gaffney’s either.

“What about you?”

I take a sip of my drink, then fish a five out of my wallet. “What about me?”

Stacey smirks. “Are you single, Hunter?”

“Thanks for the beer,” I say, then walk off without waiting for my change. Hopefully she prefers a two-dollar tip to an answer.

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