“Relax.” Nathan bumps my shoulder. “It’s only got a little bit of Everclear in it.”

“That shit will mess you up so fast you don’t even realize it.”

I’m pleased when Katrina makes no move to get another cup from Nathan’s tray, but instead lifts her empty cup and says, “I’m going to get a beer.”

Nathan is already off on his quest to get everyone shit-faced, so I follow Katrina to the keg.

“I can’t believe you’re here. I’ve never seen you out before.”

She attempts a pour. Flow is weak and she messes with the tap and gives it a shake like that’ll help.

“Needs to be pumped.”

“Uh, what?” She drops it and looks to me helplessly.

“I’m starting to think this might be your first time pouring from a keg.” I step forward and give the keg a couple slow pumps. “The key is not to over pump. You pump too much, and you’ll be able to ski on the head.”

I motion her over with a head tilt and hold out the nozzle. She places the cup underneath and I fill it like a pro.

“You’re staring,” she says as I hand her the cup and do indeed keep watching her.

“Sorry. I’m just… surprised to see you. Come on, let’s go outside. It’s quieter out there and we can talk.”

Talk, make out, whatever.

“I should get back to Tabitha.” She motions with her head and I look over to see her friend watching us carefully. “We came together.”

Girls are weird as shit about sticking with their friends at parties. Typically this is when I’d offer they both join me outside, but I’m not in the mood for a three-way. My attention is focused solely on Katrina. But she’s not getting out of my sight, either. I’m afraid she might be a hallucination or maybe I’ve already passed the fuck out and I’m dreaming.

I place an arm around her shoulders, enjoying every inch of bare skin that heats my forearm. “Tabitha,” I call out as we approach. “How do you feel about drinking games?”

Her expression doesn’t look the least bit staged or put off at my domineering their plans. “I love them.”

I let my arm drop and grab Katrina’s free hand. Her small palm is limp for the briefest of moments before she relaxes and curls her fingers around mine. I lead them to the table in the middle of the kitchen and thank karma or God or just dumb luck that there are three empty seats.

Mario and Vanessa are seated with some other baseball guys and girls I recognize as baseball house regulars. “Yo, Mario, cool if we join you?”

He groans as Vanessa shoots a quarter into the shot glass in front of her and raises both arms overhead in victory. “Sucker, drink again!”

“Fair warning, Vanessa is unnaturally good at shooting quarters,” he says as he fills his shot glass with the Captain Morgan bottle in front of him and then shoots it back.