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when Jules opened the door.
    She smiled and leaned on the side of the door with one arm. “Hey! I’m just about ready.” Opening the door wider, she swept her hand toward the apartment, Vanna White style. “Come on in.”
    My stomach turned a little queasy as I glanced into the apartment. What if Payton was there? Should I play it cool? Give her shit? No. Definitely play it cool. I didn’t want her to think she still had anything on me.
    The apartment smelled like one of those froufrou pumpkin drinks from Starbucks. I smirked. Ryan would be in hysterics by now, probably curled up in the fetal position, begging to leave this pumpkin-overload hell.
    Jules and Payton had a typical girl apartment. Frilly placemats on the kitchen table, decorative pillows, and candles on the living room table.
    I waited in the kitchen, leaning against the counter top, while she ran back into the bathroom, her heels clacking on the tile. I picked up a spatula in a metal container and spun it around in my hand. “Where’s your roommate?”
    Her voice echoed in the bathroom as she said, “She went to the library to study. That girl lives and breathes school.”
    I chuckled and said, “Ya think?” It was meant more for me than Jules, but she caught my snide remark.
    “How do you know Payton, anyway?”
    Well, shit, Blake. Good job digging yourself into a hole. “We met through mutual friends.” I dropped the spatula back in the container and walked over to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of Jules bent over the sink. Not a bad view. Unwilling to go into how well I actually knew Payton, I changed the subject. “Want to pick up snacks to eat during the movie?” The mutual friend was Ryan. Back in eighth grade, he had it bad for her that whole year, but he never knew how to show it beyond sticking pencils in her hair and drawing penises on her hand in Sharpie.
    Then again, most thirteen-year-old guys didn’t know how to talk to girls that were confident and beautiful.
    “That sounds great. I’ve been craving Oreos like mad.”
    Thirty minutes later, we made our way back to the fraternity, a pack of Sour Patch Kids tucked under my arm and Oreos under Jules’s. She wasn’t kidding around about the Oreo cravings; her inhalation of half of the bag was awe-inspiring. Most girls wouldn’t eat much on a first date—something that always irritated the crap out of me. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was girls who thought guys wanted them to be stick-thin. Screw that. I’d take a healthy eater with some curves over an anorexic chick any day. But this girl? Man, for such a tiny person, she could pack down those Oreos.
    We sunk into the leather couch in the second row of the movie room. With black walls and red movie theater curtains, it made for the darkest room in the whole house. This place turned into hookup central during parties if people’s rooms were otherwise occupied.
    “Can I have one of those?” I reached for an Oreo in the bag on her lap. She pulled the bag closer to her body and growled.
    For a second, I thought she was serious and maybe had a slight problem with sharing, until a wicked smile broke out on her face.
    “Fine, but just one.”
    She handed me one, and I tossed it in the air and caught it in my mouth on the way down. I tried to sneak another one, but she swatted my hand away. Damn, she was protective over those Oreos.
    The projector mounted overhead illuminated the movie onto the entire wall. Jules’s legs glowed softly in the projector light as she draped them over my lap. I didn’t understand why she wore a miniskirt and heels in this crap-tastic Fall weather, but I wasn’t complaining as I skimmed my hand over her silky smooth legs. She snuggled closer to me, and rested her head on my shoulder as I flipped through the previews.
    She had picked out one of those romantic comedies that had just come out on DVD. Payton would never be down for this. She’d want to watch the newest war movie or