It’s been a hectic few days, and I hate to admit this, but I need my Gavin fix. He had to cancel our usual Friday workout at the gym because he had a last-minute assignment for the Globe, and we couldn’t grab lunch on Saturday because I had to work a double shift. But this morning he mentions he’s hanging with Ryan, so when Jenna invites me to do laundry at her boyfriend’s house, I can’t resist tagging along.

Ryan’s band is sitting around the kitchen table when we arrive. Kade sees me and rolls his eyes, and I resist the urge to drown him in the kitchen sink. Is it my imagination or is he a bigger asshole than I remember?

Poker chips are strewn about, and a few empty pizza boxes litter the counter. I walk up behind Gavin, who looks up at me and smiles so brightly, I feel like I’m bathing in the sun. He’s standing up to hug me when his phone buzzes.

“Babe, can you hold my cards for a second?” he asks, kissing me on the cheek before he runs off to take the call. I look at the hand he left me, which I quickly hide against my shirt. When I glance up, everyone is looking at me.

“What?”

Ryan’s mouth drops open dramatically before it slides into a grin.

“I see you and Gavin are getting along.”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Friends with muthafucking benefits!” he yells. All the guys start laughing.

“Why do you make everything sound so lewd?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“Because Gavin is my boy, and he deserves lewd, a whole lot of lewd, like all up in his face.”

Oh, Jesus.

Jenna, who must have caught the last part of this conversation, walks up and leans in to whisper something in his ear. He looks down and nods.

“Sorry I’m giving you shit, Clem. I’ll shut up now.”

Gavin walks back in, tucking his phone in his pocket before he slides his arm around my waist, pulling me into his lap as he sits. Everyone is staring at me—again—except for Ryan, who is trying hard not to smile as he becomes very interested in his hand. I’m sure I must be crimson by now. The only thing keeping me on Gavin’s lap is the fact that I haven’t seen him in several days, and, God, I miss his touch.

“Ante up, bitches,” Ryan says, throwing in some chips.

Thankful Ryan is switching gears, I reach into my bag and pull out an envelope and hand it to the cute guy I’m sitting on.

“I thought I’d ask if you wanted these before I give them to Ryan.”

Gavin reaches around me to open it. “BC vs. USC tickets?” He turns to me. “Seriously?”

“Yes, compliments of one Daren Sloan. They’re good seats too. Fifty-yard line, second row.”

He angles his head toward me. “You weren’t kidding about him sending you tickets?”

“I would never joke about that,” I say, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

“So he’s been sending you tickets to every home game for three, going on four years?”

“Something like that.”

He frowns, getting an adorable crinkle in his forehead.

Ryan sits up in his chair. “You’re giving the BC tickets to this asshole? Clem, remember who moved all your crap for the last two summers.” He tosses his cards on the table.

I chuck a pretzel at him. “If Gavin wants, he can take you with him. I didn’t know you were such a football fanatic, Ryan, or I would have given you all the other tickets I threw out.”

Ryan groans again and slams the table, making everyone jump. “You threw them away? I would have killed to see last year’s BC/Notre Dame game. Do you have any idea what these tickets are worth?”

I roll my eyes.

“No, and I’m not interested.”

Ryan looks like he’s going to yank his hair out by its roots. I’ve never actually seen him so unhinged before. I watch him, curious if he’s going to yell at me some more when Gavin tosses the envelope across the table.

“Relax, man,” Gavin says, shooting him a look. “You can have the fucking tickets. Just stop freaking out at Clementine.”

I start to stand up, but Gavin tightens his hold, pulling me closer. Part of me is mortified to still be on his lap in front of a room of people, but the other part is excited as hell to finally see him.

Twenty minutes later, when I finally get around to tucking a load of laundry into the washer, a pair of hands grip me around the waist, making me scream.

“Damn, baby, you’re jumpy.” Gavin chuckles, turning me around to kiss my neck. “Your heart is racing.”

“You scared the shit out of me!” I smack his chest and he grins.

His eyebrows lift as he peeks over my shoulder. “Hmm. Delicates,” he says seductively. “I’d like to get to know your delicates.” He ducks back down to nibble on the spot just below my earlobe. He’s so delicious my legs might give out.

After a moment, he groans, stopping to press his forehead against mine. “I have to go finish up an article and babysit the freshmen. Want to join me later?”

“I’ll think about it,” I tease as his lips descend on mine.

“Good. Because Aiden misses the fuck out of Samantha,” he mumbles against my mouth, using my fictional characters to make me laugh.

I have to say the feeling is mutual.

* * *

Gavin is stroking my hair, and I’m nestled against his chest as we watch Sons of Anarchy on Netflix. I definitely could get used to this.

“I’m sorry Ryan was such a prick today,” he says as the credits roll.

“It’s okay. I feel bad I didn’t give him the other tickets. I’ve always thrown them away as soon as they arrived and never thought about it.”

“Still, he shouldn’t have lost his shit that way.”

“He’s a good guy. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

I’m playing with the drawstring on his hoodie when the door flies open, slamming against the wall, and the little blonde girl I met a few weeks ago runs in.

“Jesus, Carly, ever heard of knocking?” Gavin asks as we get up.

“Sorry, sorry!” She covers her eyes like she’s afraid she might see something she shouldn’t. “Marnie is having a seizure or something. Hurry!” She turns and runs out.

I grab my phone, and Gavin and I bolt after her. When we reach her room, the first thing I see is a bowl of soup that’s been dropped in the center of the room. Marnie is sprawled next to the noodles and bits of vegetables, her legs splayed at weird angles as her body shakes. Gavin ducks next to her as I dial 911.

“She has epilepsy,” Carly says as Gavin rests Marnie’s head on a pillow.

“911. What’s your emergency?” a voice says into my ear.

“I need paramedics at 700 Commonwealth Avenue, eighteenth floor of Warren Towers, building A. We’re in room…” I pause to glance at the number on the door and relay the information before I explain Marnie’s medical condition.

Carly is starting to cry, so I put my arm on her shoulder when I get off the phone.

“Marnie’s going to be okay. You got us really fast. Does she have any medication for this?”

Carly shakes her head and sniffles. “Not that I know of.”

When the paramedics arrive, they load Marnie on to the stretcher. She looks pale and a little glassy-eyed. Gavin walks next to her, holding her hand. He looks over to me, and I wave bye. He motions that he’ll call me later. Nodding, I turn back to Carly, who is still sniffling.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, I am definitely in the seventh circle of hell. One girl is braiding my hair while Carly and another perky brunette dab a honey-yogurt mask on my face. Jenna would be in heaven.

It can’t get any worse, though, right? Then One Direction blares from the speakers, reminding me that I should never ask that question.

I’m wondering how to politely duck out of this as I turn and see Gavin leaning in the doorway.

“Clementine?” He chuckles as he soaks in the scene.

“Yeah. Don’t ask.”

Carly bobs up and down on her toes and claps her hands. “We love Clem. Can we keep her? She’s so beautiful!”

“Ladies, she’s not a pet. Stop pawing at her. Clementine has to get up early tomorrow. I’m going to steal her, but if you’re good, she might visit.”

They giggle. A few minutes later, I walk out of Gavin’s bathroom, wiping my face with a towel.

“Thanks for getting me out of there. They were upset, so I suggested manicures because that’s what my roommates like to do when they’re stressed, and the next thing I know I was being coated in honey and yogurt. I’m still a little sticky,” I say, trying to wipe off a bit of goo on my neck.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says, pulling me to him and placing feather-light kisses across my face. When he reaches my jaw, I tilt my head to the side, letting him nuzzle against me.

“Mmm. Found a spot.” His soft kisses stop as he takes a small lick up my neck. Oh, shit. That was hot. “You taste really good,” he whispers.

His mouth migrating across my collarbone makes it difficult to think coherently. “I don’t know how I ended up as their guinea pig.” I’m starting to pant. Fuck.

“They. Wanted. A perfect specimen,” he says between kisses.

My knees are weak, and I’m about to push him onto his bed and let him touch me any way he wants when a loud knock on the door makes me jump.

“God, that scared me,” I laugh, nerves shooting through me like my parents just caught us, an idea that gives me pause because of course my parents don’t give a shit.

Gavin opens the door and an older guy is standing there with a clipboard.

“Incident report for the lucky RA,” the man says cheerfully as he hands over a stack of paperwork.

I know this is going to take a while, so I grab my bag. “I’m gonna get out of your hair so you can take care of this.”

Gavin smiles grimly, and I wink back before heading home. I’m not even on my street yet when he texts me.

Gavin: Can I finally take you on a proper date? I’m warning you, though. If you say no, then Aiden is going to ask Samantha out, and she has to say yes.

My throat tightens as I think about his request. Relax. It’s a date. He’s not asking you to elope. I laugh at myself, at how ridiculous I’m being.

Me: My book boyfriend is so demanding!

Gavin: Pick you up on Friday at 7.

I laugh at his presumptuousness, that he assumes I’ll agree. But do I really want to decline? No. I want to spend time with him. In fact, I love spending time with him. I write back: I guess I could use some more inspiration…

Glad no one can see the idiotic grin on my face, I duck into my building. When I get into my room, his incoming message buzzes my phone: Wouldn’t want you to run into another dry spell.

Me: So really, this is in the name of higher learning.

Gavin: Funny you should mention that because you’re my favorite subject. I could study you all day.

His flirtatiousness makes me smile wider.

I love that about him, which is weird because for the past three years, I’ve ignored every guy who flirted with me. Every single one. But Gavin is different somehow. Sexy but sensitive. Strong but gentle. Easygoing but somehow intense. He can turn me inside out with one look, one touch, one kiss.

The second I get home, I get another text from him asking if I got home safely. God, a girl could get used to Gavin Murphy.

I’m lonely in my bed without him, which makes me wonder how far I’ll let things go on Friday night, an idea that both thrills and terrifies me.