I tipped my head back and laughed. “Fuck ‘em.”

“That’s my girl.”

Jimmie joined us, coming up behind Brit, dropping his hands on her waist. I raised my brows, and she shrugged, which was code for holding off on the punching in the vagina. My hair was damp along my temples and my sweater had ridden up. The three of us were joined by Jacob, who pretty much flailed around. I was so caught up in laughing at him that when hands landed on my hips, I jumped a good five inches off the floor.

Brit’s eyes widened.

I looked over my shoulder and saw a relatively unfamiliar face. The guy’s cheeks were red, eyes slightly glazed over as he ground his hips.

“Hey,” he slurred, smiling.

“Hi.” I turned back around, making a face at Brit as I stepped forward. I made it about an inch before Drunk Guy’s grip tightened.

“Where you going?” he said. “We’re dancing.”

I twisted to the side, and the guy followed, staying at my back. My stomach dropped and a strange, shivery sensation crawled up the back of my neck, raising the tiny hairs there. Thrown back several years, I froze for a second. Brit, Jacob, the party—everything—disappeared. I felt him pull me back against him, his hands on the bare skin of my stomach. Without any warning, reality seemed to shift.

I wasn’t here.

I was back there, with his hands under my skirt, and I couldn’t breathe or see; the fabric of the couch rough against my cheek.

“Baby,” the guy crooned in my ear. “Dance with me.”

“Baby,” Blaine had said, his breath heavy in my ear. “You can’t tell me you don’t want this.”

The garage shifted to a basement and back again. I tried to pull away, my heart beating so fast I was going to be sick. “Let me go.”

“Come on, it’s just a dance.” His hand was on my stomach, under my sweater. “You—”

“Let me go.” My breath caught in my throat as I struggled. “Let me go!”

There was a surprised shout and a squeal. Suddenly I was torn out of the drunk guy’s grip. I stumbled back, bumping into someone. Heart racing, I pushed my hair out of my face and lifted my head.

Oh my God.

Cam had the guy against the wall.

Chapter 14

A small crowd had already circled Cam and the guy. Some watching on in interest, others jeering on the fight.

Cam had pinned the guy with one hand shoved into his chest. He was right up in his face, his free hand curled into a fist at his side. “What the fuck, man? Do you have a fucking hearing problem?”

“I’m sorry,” the guy blubbered, hands raised at his sides. “We were just dancing. Didn’t mean any shit by it.”

“Cam.” My voice came out strangled, hoarse as I started forward.

Brit was beside me, capturing my arm. “Do not get involved, Avery.”

How could I not get involved? My stomach roiled and what little beer I had consumed rose in my throat.