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Lexi grins. "It’s fine. Mandy’s got her inhaler."

"You all suck," Nate mutters, though he's fighting a smile.

The music shifts and someone yells, "Oh hell yes!" as a ridiculous old-school rap song blasts through the speakers. Before I know it, James, Ethan, Alex, Connor and Mikey are on the dance floor.

James slides across the hardwood on his knees. Ethan moonwalks into a chair and nearly wipes out. Mikey breakdances...badly.

"This is a crime," Lexi declares. "Where's a cop when you need one?"

"You mean besides the fashion police?" Priya adds.

The girls are dying laughing, and before we know it, Ethan and Connor pull Nate onto the dance floor. All hell breaks loose. The guys start shouting the lyrics at the top of their lungs, jumping up and down like frat bros at a tailgate.

James spins in a circle, pumping his fists like he's headlining Coachella, while Ethan tries to do the worm and ends up face-planting into a throw pillow. Mikey leapfrogs over Connor, who’s air-guitaring with a breadstick from the appetizer tray.

Kira and I whip out our phones, crying with laughter as we record the chaos. "This is going on the Acers group chat," Kira yells. "With zero context."

Connor yells the chorus like he's headlining a rock concert, fists pumping as he jumps in time with the beat. Dillon throws himself backward and shouts, "Catch me!" as two confused puck bunnies try to hold him up while laughing hysterically.

Alex, calm no more, goes full Michael Jackson, moonwalking like he’s got glitter socks and a fedora. Ethan and Mikey do synchronized air-saxophone solos with baguettes, while James adds dramatic body rolls like he's auditioning for Magic Mike: Acers Edition. The room erupts, Kira and I nearly dropping our phones from laughing as we capture every rowdy second.

Haley joins our group, grinning as she slides between me and Kira. She glances toward the dance floor where the guys are still goofing off. "Okay, that was either the best or worst boy band reunion ever," she laughs. Then she nudges me with her elbow, lowering her voice. "You and Nate are giving off serious ‘something’s up’ energy tonight. Should we be worried?"

"Who, us?" I say, flashing an innocent grin and batting my lashes. "No, nothing. Just here for the tacos."

"Just making sure you're enjoying yourselves. But, I don’t think we have tacos," she adds, raising her glass.

Before I can respond, the DJ's voice cuts through the music. "Alright, Acers family, this one goes out to the happy couple. Grab your person and slow it down."

The madness is interrupted by a slow song, and without warning, Nate grabs my hand.

"Come on."

"What…where?"

But he’s already leading me onto the dance floor, sliding an arm around my waist.

It takes a second, but I fall into step with him.

His hand rests on my lower back, warm and possessive. "You clean up nice, Fields."

"You’re not so bad yourself."

He chuckles. "That’s it? I ditched James's striptease and I get 'not bad'?"

"Would you prefer 'devastatingly handsome with a side of cocky'?"

"That’ll do."

We sway in silence to the music. The party continues around us, but here, it’s just us.

"You didn’t have to bring me tonight," I say softly.

"Yeah, I did, or I would've been stuck with one of the twin puck bunnies James dragged in. Not exactly my idea of a good time. Plus, I wanted to bring you."

His voice is low. Serious. I glance up at him.

"Because we’re friends and I am so fun to be with?”