He cradled her face in the palm of his hand, and I had to look away. This is what they did. A fire-and-ice routine that left her crying every other weekend. Jabbing at each other until he made promises he wouldn’t keep. I started toward the stairs. Aubrey’s pouty “I wanted to have the prom you promised me” followed me, but I didn’t look back to see if she was caving to his dimples.

This rental was the most secluded house I’d ever seen on the Jersey Shore. We were out on the end of a long road and right up next to the beach. Which was great, knowing how loud we could get when we partied, but I wasn’t supposed to be alone here with just Cam and Aubrey for company. Especially not when they were already going at it.

“Liam? Holli? Rory?” I started shouting my other friends’ names to see who might call back. A precursor to the round of Marco Polo we’d most likely play in the pool after we got back from the dance.

“Noah told me he’s already here. He’s probably staked out primo digs upstairs.” Cam’s voice was raspy behind me. I turned and found him and Aubrey standing at the bottom of the stairs; Aubrey’s cheeks were heated. That resolved itself quickly. She pulled her phone from the front pocket of her oversize weekender. A swipe and a trio of taps later, she announced, “Dani and Hudson are already here somewhere, too. Rory is stuck in traffic, and everyone else is in her car.”

“Everyone?” The tightness in my chest tried to strangle the word. Seven of our friends were joining us for the weekend: Noah, Dani, Hudson, Rory, Holli, Vic, and…

Aubrey got a dimple in her cheek when she smiled. “Even Liam.”

“Oh, good.” Though I could tell my cheeks were burning, Aubrey didn’t call me out. Liam was my boyfriend, but we hadn’t been dating long, and I knew clingy wasn’t a good look. “He thought he’d be here first.”

Aubrey darted past me. “Did anyone call dibs on rooms beforehand?”

“This is a finders, keepers situation, Aub.” And the sooner I found a room to claim, the sooner I could distract myself with prom prep. I was banking on Aubrey pinning my deep brown hair into a prom-worthy updo. She’d brought the flat iron for some 1920s-style finger waves but promised she wasn’t going to burn my ear again. Third time’s the charm, right?

And speaking of prom-worthy, I couldn’t believe I’d landed my dream date. Liam and I had had classes together for years, but we’d only started dating a month ago. I almost hadn’t recognized him after winter break; he’d grown what seemed like six inches. When he leaned forward with that messy black hair flopping over his green eyes, I went gooey. All languid limbs, bands of tension snapping up from my hips to my chest, and rushes of effervescent bubbles to my brain. Every. Single. Time.