No, really, she thought maybe she’d see Dodge. But, of course, he wouldn’t be here. Dodge didn’t drink, didn’t live outside the lines.

Colt, however, had no problem leaping right over any confines, and now he wrapped a muscled arm around her shoulders. “You picked the right party to come to. C’mon. Let’s get you a drink.”

He took her hand, and she didn’t know why—maybe because Colt was everyone’s favorite, the life of the party, and perhaps just a little of the boy she wanted—she followed him over to the toxic punch. And when he’d shoved the drink into her hand, she took a sip.

It didn’t taste awful. Mostly sweet.

In her brain, outside the dream, Echo was waving semaphores. Don’t do it!

“Let’s dance.”

Barefoot in the cool grass, she found her arms around his shoulders, his around her waist. He smelled good, and she liked the way he held her. She finished her punch, and he got her more, and then she danced by herself, the stars bright and spinning. She fell, and he laughed, then he picked her up and helped her over to a bench.

“I’ve always thought you were so pretty, Echo.” Colt touched his hand to her cheek. His eyes were sweet in hers. “I know you and Dodge are—”

“We’re nothing. Not anymore. Dodge hates me.” She didn’t know where those words came from, but maybe they were true.

After all, she’d broken his heart. He hadn’t said as much, but she saw it in his beautiful eyes when she told him no. What she should have said was that he was moving too fast. That she needed time.

That he was scaring her.

Sheesh, he had them married, her strapped down with a kid before the end of the year. And look what that did to her parents.

Hello. So she’d said no, and Dodge took it like a punch to his chest, refusing to listen, ignoring her.

Pushing her out of his life.

And here was Colt, telling her that he thought she was pretty, and smiling at her, and suddenly Dodge was pushy and bossy and suffocating and—

Colt kissed her. He tasted sweet, like the punch, and smelled a little smoky. But his kiss was firm and determined and it felt good to be wanted, and when she put her hands on his chest, she kissed him back.

Why not? Colt was fun, and it was just a night under the stars, a last hurrah, nothing serious.

Nothing serious?

Please stop, Echo, before it’s too late—

Except, it was already too late because she heard the voice even before she looked up.

“What the—”

Dodge. And even now, as she was dreaming, she wondered if this might be fiction. Maybe he hadn’t just shown up, caught Colt with his arms around her. Seen them kissing.