The only person who talked to me was a boy who had a mustard stain on his shirt. He had sharp canines, like a wolf, and he smelled like orange Lysol. I left him in the hallway by the bathroom and found the vodka bottle in the freezer. It was cool going down. That’s probably why I drank so much so fast. Too much. Too fast. I ran to the bathroom with my hand covering my mouth, holding in the vomit. Unfortunately, I ran into Lysol guy again, and he looked at me like I was the pathetic one. Maybe I was? I mean, I was the one pushing people out of the way to get to the toilet.

But that was then and this was now. This party was different. I was different. I had learned to hold my liquor. And I was no longer the girl who couldn’t walk away from a creepy guy without second-guessing herself. I felt safe with Kael. Interested and interesting. Like I was the senior at this party.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Kael was taking everything in. He wasn’t obvious about it, but he was watching. Analyzing. Paying attention.

We made eye contact and he surprised me by being the one to break the silence between us.

“Exactly how I thought I would spend my twenty-first birthday,” he said, taking another gulp of beer. And another.

Someone turned on an old Usher song and I smiled into my cup. People were definitely trying to set the mood if they were playing old-school Usher. I was liking this group, even though I tried not to. I was a sucker for nostalgia.

“Wow. Usher. Well, take all the sarcasm out of what I just said.” Kael smiled.

I hadn’t known this guy long, but, wow, I loved it when he was this way. Unguarded and funny. I laughed at him and he took me in—my mouth, my eyes, my mouth again. He wasn’t subtle about it.

Was he aware of the way he was looking at me?

He had to be.

My head felt fuzzy, and it had nothing to do with the vodka.

“Kare!” Austin’s voice boomed over everyone and everything, including the blender being used to make some sort of neon mixed drink that I hoped wouldn’t be splattered all over my dad’s bathroom floor later.

“There you are!” He wrapped both arms around me. He smelled like beer himself.

He hugged me tight and kissed my hair.

“Look at you,” he said, holding his plastic cup in the air. I knew he was drunk. He wasn’t wild. He wasn’t belligerent. But buzzed for sure.

“Did you get a drink?” Austin’s ice-blue eyes were bloodshot. I reminded myself that he had just gotten out of jail, that he probably needed the drink.