I shot him a dark look. “That’s not what I meant.”

Her cheeks were flushed, either from what Ollie had said or from the cold. “I know. And it’s okay. I don’t need a ride, but I’ll be there.”

I really didn’t believe her.

There were a lot of angels and cats in high heels, so much so that I had a hell of a time not wanting to separate the girls into two groups: the fallen and the catty.

Brittany, Avery’s friend, was in the group of the fallen, her white dress absolutely no protection against the chilly night. She was with Jacob, who looked remarkably like Bruno Mars, but I hadn’t seen Avery.

Figured.

I’d spent a good part of the evening wondering if she’d really show and if she did, what she would wear. Would she be an angel? A cat? Really stupid, considering that I did have better things to dwell on.

Irritated, I roamed from one room to the next. The house was packed, standing room only, and people spilled out onto the front porch and the lawn. If the cops didn’t show up at some point tonight, breaking up the party, I’d be amazed.

There was too much going on inside the house for me. Music thumped loudly, but not quite drowning out the shouts and laughter. Couples were in every corner, some who appeared to have forgotten who their boyfriend/girlfriend was. I used to love this scene, but now, it made my skin itchy.

I’d retreated outside to the garage with Jase, in the midst of a mean game of beer pong.

“You look thrilled to be here,” Jase said, squinting an eye as he held the white ball, lining it up with the plastic cups.

“Not feeling it tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” Jase bounced the ball into a cup in the first row. The guys on the other side of the table groaned. “Is that because I haven’t see Shortcake around?”

Why I had made the mistake of calling her that in front of Jase was beyond me. I didn’t respond as the ball from the other side bounced right off the table.

Jase chuckled. “Amateurs.” He turned to me. “But do you know who I do see? Steph. And she’s been looking for you.”

“So?”

“Just thought I’d share that knowledge with you.” He tossed me the ball. “Let’s kick some ass.”

With nothing else better to do and wanting to get out of my own head, I joined the game. Jase had been right. The group across from us really were amateurs. Fifteen minutes into the game, our opponents were swaying like weeds in the wind.

“This is actually shameful,” I muttered, eyeing one of them, who punched the end of the table to hold himself up, rattling the cups.

Jase grinned evilly. “They should’ve known better than to challenge me.”