13.

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When I woke up, it was to a pounding headache and a mouth that felt filled with cotton balls. Ugh. Remind me never to drink again. I opened my eyes, squinting against the too bright sunshine of early morning. I sat up in bed, careful not to move too quickly, lest I upset my tumultuous stomach. As I swung my legs over the side of the bed, I glanced down, surprised to see Luke curled up on the floor, snoring softly.

A soft smile spread across my lips. In sleep, Luke's face was perfectly relaxed, and it made him look softer. Younger. More like the boy I had known in high school, instead of the man he had grown into since starting college.

A knock sounded at the door, and I stood, running my fingers through my tangled hair in a half-hearted effort to tame the unruly mess.

"Faye?"

I recognized Dylan's voice on the other side of the door, and I frowned, wondering what he could possibly want. We hadn't spoken since that day I'd confronted him at his apartment, almost a week ago now. He had never bothered to apologize, and I had nothing left to say to him. So why was he even here?

Pulling the door open, I crossed my arms across my chest, glaring at Dylan imperiously. "What do you want?" I demanded.

Dylan took a step back, looking startled that I was still so angry at him, although I wasn't sure why he would have expected anything different. He was still being a jerk, and I wasn't letting him off the hook anytime soon. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Dylan said sheepishly. "Madison texted me last night saying you'd had a bit too much to drink and she was bringing you home. I wanted to check up on you and see how you were feeling this morning. Figured I'd make sure you didn't need anything."

"I'm fine," I said irritably.

"Really?" Dylan pressed, taking a step closer to me and hovering like he wanted to hug me, but didn't dare to initiate contact. "Because it's not like you to drink and go to parties. I'm worried about you."

"Is everything all right here?" Luke asked, hovering behind me. The glare he shot Dylan was menacing, but I was more distracted by the fact that Luke wasn't wearing a shirt, and his hair was messily tousled from sleep.

Dylan stiffened, looking between Luke and me. "What is Luke doing here?" he asked carefully.

I shrugged. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

Dylan bristled at that, puffing out his chest in an effort to make himself bigger than Luke, which was futile. The cousins were similarly built and evenly matched, so no amount of posturing on Dylan's part would intimidate Luke. "It's my business because you're my best friend, and I care about you, Lilly," Dylan said.

"I'm your best friend? Really? How can you say that, after the way you practically shoved me out of your life to jump into bed with Avery?" I could barely contain my anger with him. Dylan had really hurt me, and as far as I was concerned, that meant he had forfeited the right to be protective of me.

"I didn't jump into bed with Avery," Dylan said. "Don't make assumptions about my relationship with Avery. I don't hang out with her to hurt you. Honestly, Lilly, I didn't realize I had to get approval from you before dating a girl."

I shrugged. "You don't," I told him. "Just like I don't have to get approval from you before inviting a boy over."

Luke pulled his t-shirt over his head, then leaned down and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "I've got to get going," he told me. "I've got a long drive ahead of me back to school, and I can't afford to get a late start. I'll be home next month for Thanksgiving. We should meet up."

I smiled, glad that I had rekindled my friendship with Luke. He was really doing a great job at distracting me from Ben and Dylan. "I'd like that," I replied shyly.

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