Shit. I forgot I don’t know how to dance.

We get to the dance area, and I sort of mimic what the other girls are doing unless they look like they are literally doing their dance partner right there on the dance floor. Jones puts one hand on my hip, but he doesn’t grind on me or pull me to him like Shane did. Which is good. I’m not quite ready for that with a stranger. I’m surprised I was ready for it with Shane, to be honest.

“You want to go someplace quieter?” he asks me after the dance and we’ve moved off to the side.

My gut reaction is no. But then again, since no is my first response, maybe I should try for something different if I want different results. I can’t use any of my newly acquired kissing skills on anyone if I never say yes.

“Or maybe we can grab a coffee Monday?” he offers, obviously watching my response.

Wow. So it appears that he likes me enough to engage in caffeine and conversation. This is huge for me. He hands me his phone to add my contact information.

I try not to act like I’ve just been crowned Miss America but getting a guy to want my phone number is pretty momentous. Especially since my talent is chemistry equations and the bathing suit competition would really not make me a shoe-in for the tiara.

Jones gets called to the beer pong table, so I end up back with Fletch and Shane. Shane gives me a discreet fist bump.

Fletch gestures to the door where a group of about six girls just came in. “Time to go,” he says.

“Really? Why?”

Fletch is finishing his beer, so Shane answers. “Looks like high schoolers. Never stay at a party when the locals show up.”

Fletch nods. “It’s always trouble.”

Judging from the pack of wolves descending on the girls, I guess some guys like trouble.

“Shit. Coach’s daughter is in that mix.”

As we get closer to the door, the girl I’m assuming is Coach’s daughter steps in Fletch’s path. “Hey, Fletch.”

“Hi, Aylie. Your dad know where you are?”

“It’s my birthday. I’m totally legal now.”

“Not legal to drink.”

I don’t mention that I’m not legal to drink yet either.

She gets up in his space, and I watch her moves very carefully. She’s got game for sure. And she’s after Fletch. “Do I get a birthday hug, Fletch?”

“Aylie, have you met my girlfriend?” He thrusts me into the not-enough-space between them. “This is Penelope.”

She’s got about five inches on me, and she makes the most of them as she looks down, taking me in from head to toe. “Really?”

I’m not even offended. I’m just as surprised as she is. “Um, hi?” I manage to eke out.