Playing Hooky with the Hottie - Maggie Dallen Page 0,10

Be nice.”

I frowned. “I am nice.”

She patted my arm. “I know you’re nice, but be...I don’t know...sympathetic.”

I drew my brows together because...what on earth did that mean?

Emma was looking toward the hallway. “Maybe he just wants to hang out.”

“With me?”

She turned back with a laugh at my incredulity. “I’ve heard crazier things.” Before I could protest, she added, “Or maybe he just wants to be around people in general.”

I tilted my head from side to side. I didn’t know much about Will, but it didn’t take an expert to see he was an extrovert.

“He’ll be a good partygoing partner,” she continued. “I’ve seen him in action. The guy is a natural at these kinds of things.”

I pouted. That much I didn’t doubt. The guy didn’t seem to have trouble making friends anywhere he went. Every time I spotted him, he was laughing it up with some of his buddies or flirtatiously laughing with girls. The guy was like a walking, talking fun machine.

“I suppose.”

“He’ll make a good ally for you. Trust me.”

She had her ‘I’m serious’ face going on so I knew that it was useless to argue any further. I was just about to turn away when her gaze shot to the doorway and her expression turned thoughtful. “Besides, maybe he just needs a friend. He seems lonely.” She turned back to me. “Doesn’t he seem lonely to you?”

I stared at her in abject confusion. Emma’s brain had a tendency to work differently than mine, and it wasn’t rare for me to feel like I was three steps behind. “Lonely?” I asked. “We just agreed that he has tons of friends.”

She shrugged it off and headed back toward the others. “Yeah, well...he still seems lonely to me.”

4

Will

The party was well underway when we got there, but everyone noticed our arrival.

“Hey, man, good to see you.” Caleb, the soccer captain was there with his girlfriend and greeted me with a slap on the back when I walked in. Caleb wasn’t a swimmer, so it seemed this swim team hangout had grown to include anybody who liked to party.

Which was probably why no one blinked to see me there. I wasn’t gonna lie. I liked a good party. People kicking back, ridiculous, meaningless conversations that no one would remember in the morning.

A whole lot of laughs, and then, at the end of the night, a whole of making out.

Who wouldn’t like parties?

“Gah, I hate parties,” Hazel muttered beside me as I got a few other shoutouts as we headed into the sea of people.

“Then you must really like this guy,” I said.

She looked up at me with suspicion. “Don’t you start.”

I arched my brows and tugged her closer as some moron who’d already had too many drinks stumbled past us, threatening to knock Hazel over with a shoulder check. “What does that mean, don’t you start?”

She wiggled her fingers in my direction. “Don’t try and pry a name out of me. Emma has already tried every trick in the book.”

I laughed. “Fair enough. No prying.”

To be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, anyway. I’d already had a crush on Hazel before, but showing up at her house had been a showstopper.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Hazel with her hair down—No, scratch that. I’d definitely never seen her with her hair down. It wasn’t a sight I’d ever forget.

She was beautiful.

I’d always found her pretty, but today I knew I hadn’t given her looks enough credit. With her hair down, her features were softened, and she looked so freakin’ cute it hurt to look at her. Emma or Lulu had apparently convinced her to try makeup, and while I appreciated the fact that now her glossy lips looked even more kissable than ever...she didn’t need it.

Her freckles were sweet, her dark lashes all natural, and that rosy color in her cheeks…

Well, I think I’d already made my feelings clear on her cute blush.

“Come on,” I said, tugging her along beside me to find some space to breathe. When we reached the home’s living room, I wasn’t the one drawing attention. We’d finally found the swim team members, and they were beside themselves at the sight of Hazel.

“No way!” Bobby shouted when we walked in. All eyes were on us.

On her.

Mostly guys, with a few of the girls I recognized from the team—they were shouting to Hazel in obvious excitement that she’d finally made it to a party.

I saw flashes of that smile. Not enough.

Not aimed at me.

She started talking