As soon as she was certain she wouldn’t topple over, she set her sights on the couch a few feet away, wanting nothing more than to collapse onto it and give in to this crushing fatigue. A warning buzzed in the back of her mind reminding her that falling asleep at a party was risky and never a good idea, but she really just needed to close her eyes for a minute. Then she’d go find Anna and convince her it was time to leave.

Inches from the couch, someone bumped into her, sloshing her with what reeked of whiskey. ‘Oops.’ A sandy-haired guy latched onto her elbow while simultaneously stepping further into her personal space.

She tipped her head back so she wouldn’t be staring at his pectorals, regretting it when the room began spinning. When it finally stopped, she narrowed her eyes in an effort to focus. He wasn’t someone she recognized or even someone she’d normally enjoy flirting with. She just wasn’t into guys who bathed in cheap cologne, athletes, or guys who wore jeans so tight they might as well be denim-painted skin. Nor was she impressed with the way he rolled up the sleeves of his red t-shirt sporting a white Lobos logo to emphasize his biceps. In her experience, he was the type of person who thought a cute smile would land him anyone he chose.

A point he proved when he smirked and lowered his head, making clear his intention. She jerked her head to the side, so instead of her mouth, his lips grazed her cheeks – and so did his tongue. A chill raced over her skin, making her shiver. She simply wasn’t in the mood to fend off his unwanted advances.

‘I have to go find my friend.’ When had her tongue grown to twice its size? Mixing alcohol with the cold medicine she’d taken as a precaution before leaving must be screwing with her more than she thought. Nothing about this felt right.

Athlete Guy raked his eyes down her body and back up, pausing the longest on her chest, head cocked to the side as his tongue snaked out and swiped across his bottom lip. ‘I can be your friend, baby. I can be your real good friend.’ Amusement gave his voice an almost lyrical quality. Keeping his grip tight on her arm, he took three steps back and collapsed onto the couch, tugging so that she toppled onto the cushion beside him. He forced her back, crushing her between his chest and the arm of the sofa.

Anger and panic wormed its way through the fuzz in her head as he swatted away her efforts to shove him away. A cold sweat broke out over her skin, and tears sprang to her eyes when his calloused palm snaked up her thigh, shoving her skirt higher as he did.

She swallowed and concentrated on making her mouth form the word stop as he traced his lips along her neck and over the shell of her ear, his alcohol and pot-fueled breath hitting her face and sending a wave of nausea through her. Heart hammering, she jerked her head away, causing the headache sitting just behind her eyes to send a slashing pain through her skull.