When I peek over at Drake, he’s burning a hole through me with his intense blue irises.

He looks like he’s a big, sexy caveman ready to throw me over his shoulder and pound me into next week.

But I shoot him a wicked look that says, ‘If you’re smart, you’ll stay where you are.

’ He must catch my drift because he does just that, still staring at me with a strange longing that heats my skin.

A few minutes later, we enter the club. The bass is so loud it vibrates beneath my four-inch heels. We tower over the other girls in these shoes.

“We have to check in,” Shannon says to us over the music.

We split off from the guys and follow Shannon and her sorority sisters to the back of the club. A bouncer ushers us into a large open room with vanities on one wall where a few girls sit. Others stand behind them, fixing their hair or makeup in the mirror.

Shannon introduces us to the girls in our dance group. We exchange pleasantries, and once it’s our turn to go on stage, a bouncer leads us out of the room and down the back hallway. He pushes open a door which leads to a long, wooden bar.

We step on stage, and when I glance out at the crowd, the lights are so bright I have to squint.

Poles line the bar, each of us stepping forward to grab hold of one.

Bex glances over at me, and I want to reach out and comfort her when I see her body visibly shaking from fear.

She’s played basketball in front of enormous crowds, we both have, so you would think this should be a piece of cake for her.

In the crowd, I find Drake. It’s easy to spot him among the sea of people in front of us. He fixes his gaze on me, his eyes so intense they haunt me. Since our encounter in the cafeteria, I haven’t stopped thinking about him. I was so mean to him, though in my mind, I thought he deserved it.

I’m not wrong about him.

What kind of decent man sends dick pics to every girl on campus?

Like I could ever consider being anything to him.

It’s almost a joke. All he could ever be is sex.

And that’s probably all he would ever want from me, anyway.

Guys like Drake don’t date. None of his friends do.

They’re all pigs, even though I believe Preston is serious about Bex.

She’s more than a fling to him, which makes me wonder about Drake.

But I don’t entertain the thought for long.

I sway my hips to the music blaring through the speakers suspended from the ceiling.

My virginity is not going to Drake Donovan, so it doesn’t even matter.

He can look at me like a hunter stalking his prey all he wants.

Love is the only thing that can buy him my v-card, something he will never work hard enough to earn.

Girls in cages dance above us, their movements perfectly timed to ours. They’re not part of the competition. It’s their job to hang from the ceiling like monkeys and entertain the crowd.

Drake watches me so intently it’s as if he’s afraid I will vanish if he doesn’t keep track of me. His deep blue eyes burn a hole through me. His gaze, combined with the overhead lights, causes my skin to burn. Sweat drips down my forehead, my body slick from the heat inside the club.

Drake licks his lips and then raises the beer in his hand to his mouth. It’s as if I’m dancing for him. Giving him a private show. Shaking my hips to the beat, I move to the rhythm.

Drake inches his way through the masses, his friends parting the crowd like the Red Sea. Preston stops in front of Bex with Drake right below me. The Kane twins are busy chugging beers behind them while Jamie’s focused on Shannon.

Staring up at me, Drake drags his teeth along his bottom lip. He’s killing me. And he knows it.

Bastard.

My entire body comes alive from each motion he makes.

He taunts me with his sexuality, something he must know no woman can resist—including me.

And for that reason, he won’t get me. I can’t fall victim to his good looks and muscular body.

Nope, I won’t be that girl. I’ll never be his girl and definitely not his plaything because that’s all he wants.

He only wants me because he hasn’t had me.

Because he can’t have me.

Who the hell am I kidding?

I’m dying up here, my panties damp with each look he shoots at me.

He leans forward, about to touch my leg, when someone drops a glass on the bar.

Liquid runs down the length of the wood, and I have to hold the pole in front of me, so I don’t lose my balance.

But Bex isn’t as fast to react as me. She’s too busy ogling Preston to notice.

She slips on the puddle and loses her balance, falling off the bar before I can reach out for her.

Lucky for her, Preston is there to catch her.

He wraps his arms around her body, holding her tight against his chest. They disappear into the crowd.

With the overhead lights in my eyes, it’s hard to spot them.

Even though Bex falling off the bar disqualified our entire group from the competition, we continue to dance until the song ends. Once it does, we’re prompted to hop down from the bar to allow the next group to take our places.

I don’t see Bex or Preston.

Where the hell did they go? They were here a minute ago.

I find Shannon next to Jamie and tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. “Hey, where did Bex go? Have you seen her?”

She scans the crowded club and then shakes her head, just as confused as me. “Um… they were just there.”

“Probably went back to the house,” Jamie says.

Irritated with Bex, I say, “Are you sure?”

I can’t believe she ditched me. She wasn’t even drunk enough to follow Preston home. Maybe she didn’t need to be drunk… I mean, seriously, look at Preston. It wouldn’t have taken much convincing.

“Yeah,” Jamie says without hesitation.

This is so unlike her. Bex doesn’t normally disappear on me without a word. But she’s with Preston, so who knows what he talked her into while I was on the bar finishing up the dance routine.

“Did Bex say something to you?” I ask.

Jamie shakes his head. “No, I know Preston. We have a signal.”

“But we came here together…”

Drake appears at my side and presses his big hand to my shoulder, his massive body invading my personal space. I shake off his heavy hand. Who does he think he is? I didn’t give him permission to touch me.

“I can give you a ride,” Drake offers.

Yeah, I’m sure he can.

“I can Uber it back to campus,” I spit back.

“Don’t be stupid,” he says over the loud music. “I can drive you.”

“Don’t call me stupid.”

Before he can say another word, I slip through the crowd, desperate for some fresh air. But I have a feeling I won’t get rid of Drake quite that fast. Nope, that dick-pic-loving weirdo is right behind me.