“It’s a nice look regardless,” he said, gesturing the length of my body with his glass. “A lot simpler than most of the girls here. They try too hard. And you have the curves for it.” Fortunately, we both turned to survey the rooftop, taking some of the attention off me, and allowing me to look for Shelby and Luna. They appeared to be stretched out on a couple of lounges, their backs to us. “You going to swim?” the man asked.

“Hmm?” I’d been watching them so intently, I’d pretty much forgotten I was standing with him. Maybe it was purposeful forgetting.

He pushed aside the edge of my wrap, exposing bare flesh and the top of my bikini bottom. “Looks like you’re planning to swim.” He arched his eyebrows and tilted his head approvingly as he stared. Puffs of ruby, lime sherbet, rust. Pop, pop, pop. A July Fourth finale in my mind. I hated being touched without permission.

Lightning quick, I reached down and grabbed his hand, squeezing and grinding his knuckles together, and twisting his wrist so his thumb was pointing downward. He let out a gasp; wine splashed over the rim of his glass, landing on his shoe.

“Touch me again and you’re going to need someone else to hold your wineglass for you.”

He tugged against my grip, and I held tight for just a second longer, then let go. I smiled, drained my wine, and handed my glass to him, pressing it against his stomach until he took it. “Nice meeting you,” I said, and sauntered away, my entire body vibrating with anger.

He murmured; I couldn’t tell what he was saying, but I was guessing it wasn’t too nice. I felt good about that. Chris would have loved . . . right. Never mind what Chris would have loved.

I wandered through the crowd, trying to look like I had a purpose so the leches would leave me alone, but also trying to blend in so Shelby and Luna wouldn’t notice me. Two guys had joined them, and they were all draped over the lounges together, drinks sweating on the ground at their feet. Shelby kept laughing, throwing her head back, and I clenched my jaw. I hated seeing her having a great time as if everything were normal and the girl sitting right next to her hadn’t tried to kill me twice. I was overtaken with a wave of dread, realizing that even if I somehow managed to get rid of Luna once and for all, Shelby would still exist. What kind of person hung out with a sociopath like Luna as if doing so was totally okay? Another sociopath. Just what the world needed. Just what my life needed. With Luna gone, would Shelby simply step up and take her place?