“What are you talking about? You’re an athlete. And a freakin’ brainiac too. I thought that equaled instant popularity and chicks.”

He humphed. “Well, that’s a load of crap. Athlete doesn’t necessarily mean popular. So I can hit a ball. Big deal. Girls like me if I have a good game, but off the field is a whole different . . . ballgame.” He grinned, and Aria chuckled.

“I see what you did there,” she said, playing along. “God, you are such a nerd!”

“So I’ve been told. A couple times tonight already.” He shrugged. “No worries. I get it. I’m not your type. Let’s just watch the show.”

Face ruddy with embarrassment, he sat back and fixed his gaze on the movie. A lump settled in Aria’s throat. She wanted to tell him what she really felt—that she liked him, a lot, but that she wasn’t ready to be more than just friends. She wasn’t even sure if she was allowed to date yet. So instead she rested her head on his shoulder in a wordless confession as the world wobbled under the spell of her last gulp of wine.

“I really like you, Aria. Even if only as friends. You’re the best person I know.” Ryan spoke to the empty air in front of him. His words were soft and dreamy sliding over her.

“I like you too, Ryan. Really—nerd and all.” Tipping her face up to his, his lips were so close, his breath hot and moist. Any trace of nervousness had been snuffed out by the adrenaline coursing through her.

Then he leaned in, her heart beat harder, and he kissed her. The kiss didn’t feel like she had anticipated. It was slippery wet. Her mind whirred. She didn’t know what she should be doing with her mouth or hands or tongue. She didn’t know if she should be doing any of this in the first place. As she glided into a soused fog, she vaguely realized they’d already gone past first base.

First base slipped to second base . . . then the room turned on its side as she laid down on the floor.

Chapter 9

Mackenzie

SUNDAY EVENING

The tension between Robin and Grant was subtle but palpable. I first noticed the shift in the air when Grant returned from the kitchen carrying a plate of bacon-wrapped scallops, still sizzling from the grill. His face was flushed from leaning over the glowing coals or a few too many beers or maybe something else entirely.

“Where have you been?” Robin questioned.

As Grant set the serving platter down, he seemed jumpy at the sound of her brisk tone. I couldn’t be the only one who noticed it, but Owen seemed oblivious and Lily was nowhere in sight.

“Making these, like you asked,” he answered.

“Oh. Okay.”

The mood tamed, though subsequent conversation felt curiously stilted.