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“How?”

“I got bored in there, and I started exploring the other rooms, and I…I found her reading in the library.”

Ezra remains still for another beat, finally pulling me back against him and resuming the slow shuffling of feet to the music. “I didn’t know she was down here.”

I remember his mother’s words then, how she had saidwe’ddecided it was better she not attend these things, and I can’t help but wonder if thatweincludes Ezra.

“Why is she not at the party?”

Ezra lets out a heavy breath. “That’s a…long and complicated story.”

“One you can’t tell me?”

He shakes his head. “One I’m not sure you’d care to hear.”

“And why wouldn’t I?”

His eyes flick to mine, a flash of regret there. “Because you’d have to actually care about me to want to hear all the dirty details of my shitty family.”

His words hit me like a blow, my stomach flipping so hard he might as well have landed a fist there. But it’s nothimthat has me feeling so bowled over, no, it’s the heavy weight of knowing that he believes I don’t care about him. It’s the uncertainty of not knowing when Istartedto. Even if only a little.

“I care,” I say after several moments, my voice barely a whisper.

Ezra’s eyes find mine, holding them. “Do you.”

“Don’t make me say it again,” I grumble.

His mouth twitches. “But it’s so nice to hear.”

“Ezra,” I huff.

“It really is a very long story,” he tells me. He looks past me to the ballroom, which is still filled to the brim with people. “One I’m not sure I should be talking about here.”

“Well…” I bite my lip, shrugging. “I mean…we could leave. Surely you’ve networked enough.”

Ezra grins at me. “Are you asking me to get out of here, Dani?”

“I’mtellingyou that I’m bored of this stupid party, and that you owe me a story.”

“Hm.” His gaze sweeps down my front, heating me. “And where do you propose we run off to?”

“You’re really trying your best to make me tell you to piss off and forget it, huh?”

“Can you blame me for taking advantage? This might be the nicest you’ve ever been to me.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m…nice.”

“Sour Patch, you’re as prickly as a cactus.” And when I tense, he leans in, adding, “But I love that about you.”

Heat tingles over my skin, lighting me up like a live wire. I’m not thinking about Grant at all now, miraculously. I can’t. Not when Ezra is so close, looking at me like he is.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say breathlessly. “Let’s just get out of here.”

The talking is further from my mind now, a steady pulse building between my legs that seems to worsen with every lingering press of Ezra’s hands on my body.

“You’re forgetting one thing,” he says.

I pause. “What?”