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warily at the contents.
    “Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”
    He relents, shoving a fist-full of fries in his mouth and drinks half the soda in one gulp. Carter leans his head back against the building. “Oh my god. I feel better already.”
    “Told you,” I smile. He’s tipping the first fry container upside down and I watch his Adam’s apple bob while he inhales them. “What did you do to get in this shape?”
    He groa ns. “I went up to Duke for this pre-Rush thing. I’m not used to partying like that.”
    “So you’re pledging?” Not a surprise.
    “Yeah, I guess,” he says over a mouthful of fries. “It was fun but I don’t know if I could do that every night.”
    “It’s not every night once you get into school. The parties are fun—lots of girls…” I trail off when he licks the salt off his fingers one by one. “Better?”
    He crushes the bag into a ball and tosses it into the trashcan. “Yeah, thanks.”
    “Seriously, get in the water.”
    He pulls his shirt (the blue one) off and jumps into the deep end, submerging deep beneath the water. From the other side of the pool Finley’s jaw hangs, watching our interaction.
    When I settle back into my seat she says, “What did you do?”
    “I taught him how to deal with a hangover.”
    “Greasy food and sugar?”
    “Yep.”
    He climbs up the ladder, all arms and shoulders and muscles, the color restored in his face.
    “You also got him to take his shirt off.”
    “Yep.”
    “All in all, a winning day.”
    I lean back and stretch my legs out. He’s got his eyes on me again. This time I return the stare.

 
    Chapter 9
    I’m lying on my bed eating ice cream out of the container when Finley texts.
    Be ready in ten minutes
    Why? I’m in my pajamas
    That’s okay. I’m coming to get you.
    Why?
    Ten minutes
    I wait on the steps afraid she’ll honk and wake up the family. One of the curses of living with your employer is they know what’s going on during your off time and not that leaving your house in cotto n shorts and a tank top is a huge deal but it may raise questions.
    “Where are we going?” I ask the minute the door closes. Finley hands me an envelope. On the outside it says “Carter. ” I open the flap and inside I find two tickets to Mumford and Sons. “You’re kidding right?”
    “Nope. Maggie’s parents gave me the tickets for my birthday but Ryan and I can’t go. I’m giving them to Carter.”
    “What? Why him?”
    We’re at a stop light. I’m not sure how Finley knows where we’re going , but she seems to have an idea. The light casts her face in a pink glow. She looks over and says, “Because of Aqua-Man I’ve had the best sex of my life, okay? Like bed breaking, multiple orgasm, three-times-a-night sex. We decided to thank him.”
    “We? You told Ryan?”
    “I didn’t get specific but he knows how much entertainment I get from him. And he also knows I rocked his fucking world last night. And the night before. And tomorrow. So, yeah, he’s good.”
    I look at the note wrapped around the tickets and read it out loud. “Thanks for the awesome.” I burst out laughing, giddy at my friend’s balls. “Holy shit. You’re a goddess.”
    She nods and turns off the main road and into a neighborhood of moderately sized houses. “Keep a look out for 1518.”
    “So what’s the plan? You just ring the doorbell and hand these to him?”
    “No, I’m not ringing his fucking doorbell. Jesus,” she says, like I’m the one with the ridiculous idea. “We’re leaving them on his car, under the windshield wiper.”
    “You’re crazy,” I say.
    “Like a fox.” She drives down the street slowly, looking at each house number. We finally find it at the end of a cul-de-sac. His car is parked out front under a basketball goal. “Okay, you have to get out and put it on the car.”
    “Me?”
    “Well, I’m driving the getaway car!”
    I take a deep breath and sigh. I’m twenty-eight years old. Twenty-eight.