Dempsey plops down on my bed and stretches out. Heat burns over my flesh as I remember having Callum between my thighs in that very same spot.

“Don’t mind us,” Spencer says as he walks over to one of the posters and studies it like it’s art in a museum. “We’ll just poke around and get to know you better.”

“Just be quiet,” I warn. “My stepdad will freak if he finds you two in here.”

And for a myriad of reasons.

Mainly because they’re Parks and I have three of them in my room.

“Come on,” Gemma says after she scoops up her bag. “Let’s get ready.”

We spend the next half hour trying on outfits and putting on makeup. Even though this isn’t my normal thing, I’m having fun. Gemma is funny and is amazing when it comes to artfully putting on makeup. I hardly recognize myself by the time we’re through.

“I don’t know if I can go out there,” I mumble, tugging at the hem of the tiny black shorts I’m wearing. “This outfit is a little much.”

More like not enough.

I really should change.

“All the guys are going to be tripping over themselves to talk to you tonight,” Gemma says, eyeing me in the mirror as she paints mascara onto her lashes. “Ignore them all because if they haven’t noticed you until tonight, they don’t deserve you.”

My cheeks turn pink in the reflection. I don’t want guys falling all over me. In fact, I just want Callum. I have Callum.

I wonder if he’d like this look.

I’m tempted to take a picture and send it to him, but my phone is in the other room. I know he’d said he didn’t want me going to the party, but he’ll understand my going. I’m basically being ambushed by his family. The peer pressure is strong with these three.

If I can do it without anyone noticing, I’ll give him a quick heads-up and let him know where I’ll be at.

I wish he could meet me there. That we could sneak off to some quiet place and kiss until dawn. Whenever I’m in his arms, the world seems to pause, no longer spinning on its axis. It’s just me and him.

“You sure you don’t want to wear the orange crop top?” Gemma asks after she caps the mascara. “It really makes your tits look good.”

I tug at the off-the-shoulder glittery red top she loaned me. It covered the most skin, therefore was my favorite. I’m barely over the idea of wearing these itty bitty shorts, much less baring my stomach for all to see.

“Pass,” I tell her. “I like this top best.”

She makes a motion for me to spin around, so I do. A satisfied hum leaves her.