My gaze flits over each of them. From Wes’ blue eyes and crooked smile to Joel’s jet-black hair and charm to Zeke’s dark skin and large build… good God, my body shivers with appreciation as I get a good look at him.

Zeke Sweets, basketball king and NBA prospect, has traded his jersey for grey slacks and a black button-down shirt. My eyes trace the ink running up his left hand and disappearing into the rolled sleeve of his dress shirt. It’s only when I’m giving that muscular arm a second sweep that I notice the paper in one hand and the clear box in the other.

He shifts the clear box awkwardly, so it’s lodged between his side and elbow and unrolls the paper. It says something, but between the fluorescent lights bouncing off the glitter and the way Zeke’s brown eyes lock on mine, I’m having a hard time reading it.

“What’s going on?” Blair asks.

Joel responds for the guys by stepping forward, tossing me a wink, and handing Katrina a clear box identical to the one Zeke has. “Prom do-over, babydoll.”

It’s then that Wes nudges Zeke forward and the mystery box is pushed out in front of me. I giggle at the large corsage inside, a nervous reaction. A peek at Blair beside me confirms she had something to do with this. I missed my high school prom and it’s never sat right with her. In all honesty, I’m more excited about starting over than trying to make up for the past, but I appreciate the thought.

With shaky hands, I take the box and Zeke looks like I’ve taken the weight of the world off his shoulders. “Wanna go to prom with me?” he asks with just enough humor in his tone that I think he might find this as ridiculous as me.

“Love to.”

Turns out this prom is better than whatever I missed in high school. The back yard of The White House, the nickname for the mansion Zeke, Wes, Joel, and Nathan live in, is packed. A DJ booth is set up in one corner with large speakers that vibrate my insides as we pass by it. Bodies push and grind to an old jam and I raise my arms with the rest of the crowd when Busta tells us to put our hands where his eyes could see.

“This playlist is killer,” I yell over the music to Blair. “Way better than whatever you had at your prom. And I cannot believe you guys got a foam machine.” On the other side of the party, people are disappearing into the foam and reemerging with big smiles.

“You said you always wanted to go to a foam party, now you have.”

I throw my arms around her neck. “You are amazing.”

“I can’t take credit for this. I had a small idea for a party and Joel took it to a whole other level.”