I give her another look. It takes Rene only a moment to zoom in on a guy standing on the other side of the upstairs bar. “Him, Chrissie. Him. Definitely hot and just the right amount older.”

I look in the direction of her stare. I whirl to put my back to the bar and slouch down slightly. Oh no, not him! Another secret I haven’t told Rene: In December I had a near fuck experience. Jack flew off the day after Christmas, and it had made me really angry in that way I never handle well. I went to Peppers, got drunk, and before I knew it was with Mr. Incredibly Hot across the bar having a near fuck experience. I don’t even remember how I got to his house, I was that drunk.

I can feel my face scrunching up tighter as my eyes tightly close to a foggy picture of ending up on a pool table with my shirt up and this guy snorting lines off my stomach. There is nothing attractive about a man who snorts coke, not even off your stomach, and I couldn’t seem to stop what was unfolding…and then the panic: How did I get here? What have I done? How do I get away? Is he just weird or dangerous?

I still can’t believe I did it, let myself get fuzzy drunk, unable to figure out how to get out of the house with some guy I don’t know who wants to bathe me and shave me there. It was being drunk that saved me, because I was enough drunk to vomit all over his tile, but not so drunk as to pass out.

As it was, he wasn’t dangerous, just weird, and pretty OK about everything in the morning. He gave me some sweats to change into, drove me back to my car and probably burned my number, which wouldn’t have matter because I didn’t give him my real number or name. Rule number one of Rene: never give your real name and number to a guy you meet in a bar.

I cringe. Oh no, I am definitely not making contact with Mr. Near Fuck Experience. I’m beginning to feel nauseated, my head is spinning, but not from the alcohol because I really haven’t had that much. Please, don’t let it turn into a full blown panic attack.

“Chrissie? What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing! That guy is too old.”

“Old for what?” Rene turns to her new guy friend. “Oh crap, I’ve got to get her out of here. I think she’s drunk. She doesn’t drink much. I can’t take her home drunk. It will be a total shitstorm if I do.”

“Rene, I’m OK,” I reassure her rather feebly. When I turn to look at her I realize we are being watched by her latest male conquest and another guy who looks like he is with him. Jeez, he’s really cute. Maybe twenty, with blond streaked light brown hair and big green eyes. A really cute surfer/rocker sort of guy. Cute and probably clueless. He’ll do… just as I think that, something flashes in his eyes.

“Hey Rene, is there something wrong with your friend,” he says, but his eyes never leave me.

Rene frowns. “She’s a lightweight. Like I said she doesn’t drink much. Do you need to go outside for some air, Chrissie?”

My cheeks burn. Can you embarrass me even more, Rene? I ignore her and lean over to speak to the cute stranger. “Hi. I’m Chris.”

The guy stares at me, and then shrugs as if to say, OK I’ll play. “Hi. Neil. Neil Stanton.”

I can feel Rene watching.

“How would you like to be a really, really cool guy and do me a really, really big favor?” I ask.

OK, what’s up with all the ‘really.’ So Valley Girl. How lame is that? Like, really, really lame. I take a steadying breath. This can go one of two ways. It can be a Breakfast at Tiffany’s moment or the last scene in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: the firefight in Bolivia scene. Probably Bolivia. I pound the last of my drink and turn my head so I can lock eyes on Neil. He’s watching me, amused and a little wary in that way guys have when they are unsure if there is something wrong with a girl. I put the glass on the bar. Here goes nothing.

“I want you to go downstairs to the dance floor and wait for me,” I say.

“Wait for you?” He stares at me. OK, what did I say that was wrong? Those pleasant green eyes are staring at me really pissed. He takes a long drink from his beer. “Hey, if this is a brush off, it’s unnecessary. You don’t need to make a fool of me. I wasn’t trying to hit on you.”

It takes me a moment to figure out why he is mad. He thinks I’m messing with him, in that bitchy rich girl way, and for some reason my confidence soars even knowing he’s thinking I’m a total bitch. I’m never the one who gets to experience the feel of pretty girl power and I certainly didn’t expect to with super-hot guy. He thinks I’m a bitch.

I start to laugh.

“Screw you,” Neil says. He turns to his friend. “We’re out of here, Josh.”

His temper focuses me. I grab his arm. “No, no, no. It’s not like that, really. Please, let me explain. I’m not that kind of girl.”

Now the look he gives me is just plain insulting. I look to Rene for help. Not a chance, her eyes scream at me. She’s going to leave me alone in this.

This has gone from bad to worse. How do I dig out? The truth. Just tell him the truth. It can’t get worse than this. He already thinks you’re a bitch and probably a crazy bitch at that.

I stare up into those angry green eyes waiting expectantly. “I wouldn’t mess with you because I’m the girl who usually gets messed with. You see, there’s a girl down there having a party and she invited me, but I know it’s just because she wants to do something to humiliate me. But at some point between dinner and now I just got pissed. You know, like when you’ve had enough of someone messing with you and you’re just angry. Fed up pissed, and I thought, what would piss her off more? Show up here, have a hot guy meet me and look like I don’t care about her stupid party. That would piss her off more, because she enjoys having people care when she’s really, really mean to them.”

Damn. Really, really again. The whole speech makes me come off pathetic. The air in my lungs forces its way out in sharp, rattling spurts.

Neil stares at me. “Are you telling me the truth or is this some other bitch game?”

“The truth,” I insist, totally embarrassed now.

After a few seconds I force myself to look at him. He’s frowning, but…is that a smile in his eyes?

“You think I’m hot?”

I refrain from rolling my eyes at him and start to laugh.

“You’re OK.”

He shakes his head. “You better not be messing with me.” He takes Josh’s beer and downs it. “You want me just to wait by the dance floor?”

I nod. “All you’ve got to do is wait for me. Pretend like we’re together. Dance a dance and walk out with me. That’s all.”

He looks undecided. Neil looks at his friend. Josh shrugs, but shifts his eyes to Rene who is too busy watching me to notice. His friend wants him to do this. He thinks it will get him hooked up with Rene for the rest of the night.

Neil orders another round of drinks. When his beer comes, he grabs it. “Don’t keep me waiting or I walk.”

I nod. Rene looks at me in a way that makes me a little less brave, like she thinks this is a childish stunt and pathetic and just plain not going to matter.

I walk down the steps. It’s just bullshit, but knowing there’s this cute guy down there waiting for me gives me a little extra swagger in my step.

Then I touch the bottom step and in a flash I know I’ve read this guy all wrong.

Chapter Three

The kiss is hard, fast and burningly intense. Neil is all around me, strong and unfamiliar and in command with his maleness. He forces my mouth apart and he fills me with his tongue. I feel panic, that shattering panic I felt in my near fuck experience. I don’t know this guy. I didn’t know Mr. Near Fuck Experience. Neil is messing with me now that he thinks he’s in control.

I struggle in his arms and try to break free. “Stop it. I didn’t say you could touch me.”