“Actually, how about we let Kitty go first seeing as how it’s her first time.” I stand and move around the table. With one hand on the back of the chair, I lean down.

“I know how to play Jenga,” she says with a smirk.

“I just want to make sure you choose wisely.” I point to a tile in the middle of the tower.

She eyes me suspiciously but pulls at the one I picked anyway. I try and hide the smile pulling at my lips as she reads it to herself.

“What’s it say?” someone asks, but neither Kitty or I answer.

She finally looks up and around the table and I can almost hear her weighing out her options. I step back and wait. When I’ve almost given up hope, she sighs, turns to me, stands, and says, “This doesn’t count as a date.”

There’s laughter from the table as Vanessa reads the discarded tile aloud. “Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

When we’re upstairs in Mario’s room, she finally speaks. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted or impressed that you got me in a bedroom within an hour of my arriving at the party.”

“Impressed.” I walk all the way in, hoping she’ll follow, and place the bottle of Jack I’m still carrying onto the desk. She hovers in the doorway, and I step back to her and brush her hair away from the side of her neck. Leaning in, I press a kiss just below her ear before murmuring, “Definitely impressed.”

“I’m not having sex with you,” she whispers in a shaky voice. I pull back. Indecision wars in her eyes. She wants me, I’ve always known this, but something still holds her back. Even here with no one else and no barriers between us, she’s throwing up a stop sign with the way she looks almost guilty.

Somehow, I manage to step away. Her scent follows me, and I try and find some semblance of sanity as I pick up the bottle of Jack. “We don’t have to do anything except stay in here for seven minutes.”

I settle onto Mario’s bed with the alcohol and pat for her to follow.

She looks around the space which is clean and not at all what she pictured judging by the look on her face. I’ll have to thank Vanessa for that. I see touches of her all over the room, including the bed that has been made and sheets that smell like they’ve been washed recently.

“Come on. I’ve been asking you out for five months. Throw a guy a bone.”

Or, you know, let me stick mine in you.

“Okay, but door stays open and I’m not touching that bed.”

She moves into the room and stands, arms crossed, eyes guarded.

My head is heavy, probably from the alcohol, but I wrack my brain for an idea. Anything to keep her here and all to myself. “How about we do something else to pass the time? We could get to know each other. Seven questions in heaven.” Look at me all clever. Won’t exactly be adding this one to the game though. Seven minutes in heaven shouldn’t normally be altered. Drastic times and all that.