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“Okay, enough reminiscing,” Maisie speaks after several long beats of silence stretch between us, each seemingly lost in our own thoughts. “I’m ready to get drunk and dance my ass off. Who’s with me?” She throws me a look, a question lifting her perfectly manicured eyebrows.

“Lead the way,” I say, more determined than ever to prove to her that I can have just as good of a time now as I did this time last year, before things got... well, complicated.

Chapter Eleven

Charlotte

Sweat clings to my skin, droplets forming every few minutes to roll down my back before being absorbed into the thin material of my dress.

I don’t know how long we’ve been here.

An hour or five. The seconds bleed together, the buzz in my veins and the pulse of music in my ears my only real point of focus.

I catch sight of Maisie out of the corner of my eye, a smile on her face as she grinds her ass into the guy behind her, a blond with thick eyebrows and the slightest gap between his teeth, which I see when he smiles, saying something into Maisie’s ear.

Thank goodness Kai and Lyric left already because had they not, Kai would probably be wiping the floor with the very handsy fellow. Not that he can really talk, given that he couldn’t keep his hands off Lyric all night. I think it’s safe to say weallknow why they left early, and it wasn’t because they weren’t enjoying themselves. It’s because they were. Maybe a little too much, given the way they left in such a hurry.

Speaking of handy fellows, if Dean moves his hand any farther down my back, he’ll be palming my ass, and while a few months ago I would have welcomed the action, now the only thing keeping me from kneeing him the groin is the particular part I’m trying to play. The one that says no man has the power to change me.

If only that were true.

Still, I cling to the lie. Let the warmth of the tequila I’ve been drinking all night dull my thoughts, my feelings, until I’m nothing more than flesh and blood. Unseeing. Unfeeling. Simply existing in this space between reality and delusion.

“You’re so hot.” Dean’s voice is too loud in my ear, his breath too warm, and I briefly wonder what I saw in him last year that spurred me to hook up with him not once, but on two different occasions.

“Glad to see your eyesight is on point,” I retort, my arms going around his neck as I continue to move my hips in time with the heavy beat of the song currently blaring from the speakers set up in the corner of the room.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” He husks, his hand sliding from my lower back to my hip. “Go somewhere more private.” His fingers bite into the skin as he squeezes.

“I think I’ll pass.” I press my hands to his chest in an effort to create space between us, but his hand on my hip holds strong.

“Really?” I can hear the smile on his lips seconds before his tongue darts out, licking the lobe of my ear. “You’ve never told me no before.”

“Guess there’s a first for everything.” I push harder against his chest, able to break free of his hold after some considerable effort.

He reaches for me again, but I’m already several steps back, retreating into the thick crowd of people that are packed into the room like sardines.

I take my first real breath in what feels like ages when I finally reach the front porch, the warm night air considerably cooler than the heat that blanketed the inside of the house. I close my eyes and take another long pull in through my nose, trying to find my composure through the veil of Jose Cuervo.Only instead, the entire world around me seems to tip and I end up having to grab the edge of the porch rail to steady myself.

Shit.

How much did I drink?

I try to count the shots Maisie kept handing me in my head, but I lose track pretty quickly. Either way, it’s apparent to me that I overdid it.

Making my way to the porch swing that sits unoccupied despite the various groups and couples crowded on the porch, looking for fresh air, no doubt, I plop down, the wood creaking beneath my weight.

Pulling my phone out of the front of my dress where it’s been tucked all night, I blow out a hard breath when I swipe my finger across the screen to see that River still hasn’t texted me back.

I’m seconds away from calling him when someone plops down next to me on the swing.

“I’m drunk,” Maisie announces, stretching her feet out in front of her.

“Me too.” I smile, though it feels disingenuous.

“I saw you dancing with Dean.” She gives me a toothy grin.

“We were just dancing. Speaking of which, why are you out here? You seemed to be quite enjoying yourself in there.”