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Why did that make me so indignant? “I don’t have a boyfriend.” And if I did, our private life would have been just fine, thanks. I couldn’t say that, though. I needed to get the spotlight off me and back on him. Maybe I could get him to admit to something. “What about you?” What if he had a secret girlfriend who would spill all his secrets?

The jerk actually winked at me. “I don’t have a boyfriend, either.”

“Usually or just now?” I asked.

“I’m into women. And before you ask the question I know you’re dying to ask, no girlfriend, either,” he added, popping my hopeful balloon. “But the night is still young.”

The boyfriend thing could have taken this story in a whole new direction. Too bad.

Nonexistent relationships aside, it dawned on me that Evan Dawson was flirting with me. I wanted to go outside and key his car, and he washittingon me. Like I was some football groupie excited just to be in the same room with him.

The thirteen-year-old former fan inside of me was giddy.

But my logical adult side told her to shut up. I was in control of our hormones now. We would not be responding to his teasing.

Before I could tell him he was barking up the wrong tree, he said, “Now that we know we’re both single, I should probably ask if you’re here with anyone.” Like there was some unbreakable team code? I didn’t belong to anybody. If I wanted to ditch my “date” and hook up with someone else, it was none of Evan’s business.

“I came with Reggie.” Sort of. But he didn’t need to know that.

Was it my imagination, or did his face fall a little?

And why wasn’t I taking advantage of this? It was the perfect way to shut down this conversation.I’m dating your teammate, sorry. Have a good night, and keep your masculine wiles to yourself. Oh, and I’m going to get total revenge on you. ’K, thanks, bye.

Instead, I added, “He did it as a favor to Nia. I’ve heard about the Jacks’ parties, and I wanted to see one for myself.”

“That’s good, given that Reggie’s longest and most serious relationship has been with his cell phone.”

Why did I want to laugh?

Evan Dawson is not charming. He’s not. Not charming.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, shocking me out of my internal mantra.

“And do what?” Because if he was telling the truth, he didn’t mean that the way other men usually did.

He shrugged one shoulder. “Whatever you want. What do you say?”

Why was I tempted by his offer? What was going on with me? Why was some small part of me ready to throw away the past and see where this would lead?

If I didn’t snap out of this, it was going to lead me straight to unemployment.

But I still didn’t want to deliberately offend him.

“I say it would be really rude of me to ditch my friends. Have a good night.”

I moved to walk past him, and he reached out, gently grabbing my wrist. Fireworks exploded up and down my arms. That reaction stunned me. It had to be a fluke. Static electricity. Jupiter moving through my seventh house. My body’s trigger warning that something awful was about to happen.

“You know, you haven’t told me your name.”

It reminded me that despite being this all-consuming figure in my teen years, he didn’t remember me at all. And then I realized that he hadn’t bothered to introduce himself. That I was just supposed to already know who he was because he was oh-so-important to all us little people and our pathetic lives.

That I totally knew who he was before I ever even saw his face was beside the point.

It was enough to restoke my anger, which had been slowly dying out.

I jerked my arm away. “It’s Ashton.”

“That’s not usually a woman’s name, is it? Although I used to know a girl named ...” His voice trailed off, and I finally saw recognition dawning in his eyes. “Ashton? Ashton Bailey? Is that you?”