“You’re right. With that ass on full display,” Gemma says with a knowing smirk, “no one will be looking at your tits.”

When we’re finally finished, I exit the bathroom to find Spencer thumbing through a book from my desk, while Dempsey flips through the apps on my TV. At the sound of the door opening, both guys look our way. They go from seemingly bored to wide-eyed, mouths gaping.

“She looks hot,” Gemma chirps in a smug tone. “Am I right?”

Dempsey sits up quickly on the bed, sweeping his tongue across his bottom lip like he’s craving a taste. Spencer abandons the book and prowls my way. His eyes narrow in a predatory way that makes me shiver.

I’m definitely not used to this kind of attention from guys.

“Thank fuck you’re going with us and not alone,” Dempsey rumbles as he climbs off the bed. “Everyone will know you’re Park property.”

Park property?

I want to argue, but I like being Callum’s.

“Don’t be gross,” Gemma grumbles. “She’s no one’s property. But you can keep the animals away. We’re just going to have fun, drink, and get our dance on. I won’t have some douchebags ruin my only night out.”

Spencer’s stare never leaves me. He’s studying me with an intensity that makes me want to fidget. Like he’s discovered something really cool and he wants to lay claim to it for bragging rights or something. Whatever it is, I’m not entirely fond of the feeling. It makes me miss Callum.

I want to text him, but it’d be super obvious if I did that now.

“Come on,” Dempsey says. “I’m ready to get shit-faced.”

For the first time in my life, I sneak out to go to a party with the most popular kids from my school. This week I’ve gone from a nobody who fades into the background to this girl who sleeps with her teacher and behaves badly with her new friends.

I’m kind of liking this new me.

I’m liking her a whole lot.

Park Mountain Lodge, while rustic and having been around for as long as I can remember, is stunning. The monolith sits on Park Mountain, a massive, log cabin style structure, looming over our town as if looking down its nose at everyone.

And it has every reason to be that way.

This place is not only gorgeous, but it’s owned by the wealthy Parks, three of which I’m attending with.

“Will you get in trouble for partying here?” I ask as we roll into a parking spot.

“If we get caught,” Dempsey says from the front seat beside Spencer. “We’re going in through the side.”