“That’s it. Just like that,” he says, splaying his big hand on my hip so that his thumb is under the hem of my shirt. Just his thumb. It shouldn’t make me feel so wanton. But just that thumb pressing into my bare skin is like direct pressure on my clit. How does he do that?

His chin is resting on my shoulder, and we’re barely moving, but he’s growing hard behind me, and I’m getting wet. I open my eyes, half expecting to see everyone staring at us in horror. But nobody is even paying attention. That’s when I see Fletch weaving across the dance floor. He hands us each a bottle and leans down to talk in my ear so I can hear him above the music. Or below, as the case may be, because his voice is super low. Like subterranean low.

“Don’t worry. I opened it myself.”

I nod. It’s sweet how they are looking out for me. What’s not sweet is how I’m instantly thrown back into our kitchen make-out session. With Shane’s hands on me from behind and Fletch right in front of me, all my senses are remembering the way it felt to taste and be tasted. To be the middle of a roommate sandwich. I’m parched and try to drain my beer to find some relief.

“Hey, hey.” Fletch tips my bottle back down. “Take it easy.”

While I don’t go to parties, I do have some experience with beer. But I let him think he’s keeping me from danger since it seems to make him feel good. I’m not drunk, but the effects of the alcohol shore up my resolve a little bit. I grind a little into Shane while Fletch watches, his eyes never leaving mine. Shane’s hand tightens on my body. I like the flare of heat in Fletch’s eyes. It’s not jealousy. It’s awareness.

Up to now, I’ve sort of just been whirled into whatever caper these boys have decided would be titillating. And it’s worked. Mostly. But every encounter seems to crack the door open a little more, and I’m ready to see what’s on the other side of it. But I will never find the answers I seek if I never take an active role.

“Hey guys...you should introduce me to some boys now. You know everyone here...which guy should I try to get to know better...first?” I watch carefully as a play of emotions crosses Fletch’s face. Interestingly, I see a bit of jealousy. A bit of possessiveness. And then resignation. He and Shane share another one of their wordless conversations that I’m sure are like the ones Jenna and I have. But I hate not knowing what they are thinking. It’s a secret boy world, and I’m tired of being locked out.