I know the sound she’ll make and I know what it does to me and she knows what it does to me and what to do next. Like a faraway dream I see exactly how this night can progress if we just shut her goddamn door and forget that there’s an outside world, that there’s a party downstairs and a boy at that party who’s supposed to be the only one who makes me feel like this.

“We should go downstairs,” she says, her voice hoarse. “People will be wondering where we are.”

People. Shannon. Gia. Kiki the Detective.

Chase.

“Yeah,” I say. I sound just as hoarse. And I don’t really want to go downstairs. But staying here isn’t an option. I wait for her to leave, but she doesn’t.

So I do.

“There you are!” Chase finds me as soon as I make it downstairs, and despite my libido having gone into overdrive with Jasmine, the smile that lights up his face makes my stomach do a very familiar flip. God, I am a terrible person. A terrible, horny person. “I thought I lost you. Everything OK?”

I can feel Jasmine’s eyes on us, watching as he rests a hand comfortably on my back as if there’s always been a space for him. In a way, I guess there has. She wasn’t there for my full-on gushing about him to our OBX friends, but she knows exactly who he is.

Suddenly, my skin feels prickly and itchy and I need to get out of her line of vision. “I’m fine,” I assure him. “Or I will be once I get your ass on the dance floor.”

He laughs. “Lead the way, madam.”

When I’m sure she can no longer see us, I relax, moving my body along with his to the music. His hands are firm and warm on my hips, and I feel other people watching, sizing up the situation. But I’ll take a thousand eyes of Stratford onlookers over two of Jasmine’s intense, inquisitive ones any day.

“Shamir special?” Two deeply tanned hands extend red Solo cups our way, and I see they’re attached to Shamir Ben-Dror, who fancies himself an amateur bartender but only makes anything remotely potable about forty percent of the time. I think about accepting one anyway, but things already feel so loaded. I’m afraid I’ll do something even more stupid than I almost did upstairs if I get a drink into my system.

“I’ll pass, but thanks.” I look at Chase. “Feel free to help yourself. I’m happy to be designated driver if you trust me with your keys. You should be celebrating.”

He grins, and it’s too freaking adorable. “You are a very cool girl, Larissa Bogdan. I’ll take one of those, Shamir, my man.”