He walks up behind me. I’m still looking in the mirror, trying to decide if I should add more eyeliner.

He leans his head down and kisses my robed shoulder.

“Don’t do that,” I tell him.

“Okay,” he says. “Then I’ll do this.” He grabs my waist and literally picks me up off the floor, takes a few steps, and lays me on the bed.

How is a junior in high school so freaking strong?

“Uh, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He murmurs through my hair, “Oh, I think it’s a very good idea.”

“I can’t, okay. I barely know you. And we need to get to dinner.”

Plus, he reminds me of Cush, and it kinda makes me want to cry.

“Go to the dance with me. Be my date.”

“I was under the impression that the dance was supposed to be a way to meet people, dance with different people, get to know them. There’s a lot of girls here you’ve never met. Surely you want to meet them and dance with them?”

“I couldn’t care less. I want to dance with you and then sneak you back to my dorm.”

“I think you’re moving way too fast.”

“Fine. You’ll dance with me?”

“Yeah. Let me up.”

He still has me pinned underneath him.

“I don’t know if I should believe you.” He gives me a grin. “What if someone else asks you to the dance?”

“Someone else already did, and I said no. And he’s like the god of all Hotties.”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said that.

“The god of all Hotties? Who’s that?”

“Uh, never mind. Forget I said that.”

“Tell me, or I will be forced to kiss you. And possibly torture you with my tongue. I need to know who my competition is.”

“I don’t remember his name. He’s that goalie guy. Now get up.”

He does as he’s told, gets up, grabs my hand, and pulls me up off the bed in one easy, effortless motion.

It’s really kinda hot.

I run into my closet and grab my dress, and walk back out, holding it in front of me. “So, what do you think? Oh, wait, let me grab my wedges so, you know, you get the full effect.” I dig down in the bottom of my suitcase, grab a pair of Jimmy Choo leopard-print whipstitched wedges, and slide them on my feet. Then I hold the dress in front of me. “Okay. So? You think this will be okay? Be, like, appropriate for tonight?”

“What I think is that you better put that dress on really fast, or we’re not going to make dinner.”

I run back in the closet, shut the door, and throw my dress on as fast as I can.

I come out and do a little twirl, showing off the dress. It’s a Free People fit and flare mini-dress, with a cute daisy chain cutout that details my waist. The red mini-floral plays off the red whipstitching on the leopard wedges and looks adorably funky.

“It’s appropriate. We better go, before you get me all hot again.”

I’m trying not to think about how he might torture me with his tongue but, I’m ashamed to admit, that is exactly what’s on my mind as I walk into the dining hall with Riley.

Even though he is obviously looking for sex, I can’t help but like his honesty about it. I would much prefer to know where I stand than play games with some player.

Riley and I go through the buffet, and then he chooses us a spot at the end of a table all by ourselves. Which is kinda weird. It’s like he’s sending a message, She’s here with me; we need to be alone, which is not the kind of dinner I was thinking about. It makes it look like we are on a date.

And we’re not.

Because I have no intention of ever dating again.

But then the gorgeous dark-haired boy who hangs with Peyton and Whitney walks over with a couple of other guys. They all set their trays down next to us. Gorgeous says, “Bro,” and slaps Riley on the back. Both Gorgeous and Riley have their hair slicked back in the same way, and I realize I’m looking at an older version of Riley.

Damn.

Riley is going to get even hotter.

Gorgeous throws his arm around my shoulder and says, “Riley is just a cheap imitation of the real thing. I’m Dawson.”

Riley’s face drops a little.

Dawson is super cute, but the way he just slammed his brother in front of me, well, it’s a dick move, and the zen in me thinks karma is a bitch. So I decide to give him a little payback.

I remove his arm from my shoulder, turn to face him, and say, “Funny, he felt pretty real in my dorm room a few minutes ago.”

The other boys at the table are like, “OOHHHH” and “Way to go, Riles!”

Riley’s face lights back up again.

“You guys are lame,” Dawson tells us. He sees Whitney setting down her tray at the popular table. “I’m gonna go sit with Whitney. Enjoy romper room over here.”

God, he’s a jerk.

I put my hand on top of his, so he can’t go just yet, and decide to really stick it to him. If I’m gonna be me, now’s the perfect time to do it. I’m standing up for the underdog. “I heard Whitney gushing all about her college boyfriend. That must really suck for you.”

His eyes get the same hurt look that Riley’s had a few moments ago, and he walks away.

One of the boys sitting down says, “Damn, Monroe, you’re ruthless.” I recognize him as the cute guy who took my bags.

“He was mean to Riley.”

“Naw. They’re brothers—they always joke like that. I’m Jake, by the way, I helped you out of the car.” He reaches his hand across the table and shakes mine.

“I remember.”

“And I’m Bryce.” Bryce is shorter than I am, but he’s a cute boy. He has the kind of little boy face that makes you wanna pinch his cheeks. “How did you know about Whitney and Dawes anyway?”

“I didn’t really, just a good guess. I saw how he was looking at her at the cave last night and then just now. Peyton is my student leader, I overheard them talking about it today. So I just . . . ” Then guilt rushes over me. Damn. Even though I was standing up for the underdog, my bitchiness snuck out! I turn to Riley. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very nice of me; I should go apologize to your brother.”

Riley laughs. “Do what you want, but that was awesome!” He gives me a hard slap on the back, like I’m one of the guys. “We’re gonna be great friends.”

Then the muscular boy speaks to me. He is taller, quite buff, and has gorgeous black skin like Deron’s. He also looks like he’d be very smooth with the ladies. “I’m Tyrese. What up? So last night you were making out with that Dallas dude and now you’re doing shit in the dorm with Riley? Wanna come up to my room later?” He sexily winks at me.

Riley says sweetly, “We weren’t doing stuff in her dorm room. We walked to dinner together. She was just sticking up for me.”

I turn and look at Riley. Smile with my eyes. Because, oh my gosh, the player just totally stood up for my reputation. He’s so sweet.

“So you gonna make the dance team? Heard you tried out,” Jake asks me. Jake is a cutie. Tall, reddish-brown hair, freckles. He looks a little like Prince Henry, and has the naughty smirk to match.

“Probably not; there were eighteen girls trying out for only three spots.”

“Heard you rocked at soccer tryouts,” Tyrese says, then winks again. “I also witnessed you scoring on Aiden wearing cowboy boots and a dress.” He laughs. “We gave him all sorts of shit about that today at football practice.”

“You shouldn’t give him shit. I think I shocked him.”

“You don’t even know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“Aiden’s one of the best goalies in the state. He’s been our starter since he was a freshman, and we’ve won state the last two years. The dude already has scholarship offers about anywhere he wants to go, but rumor has it, he’d rather go to an Ivy League school. I also heard him talking about you, girly. I think he’s in love.”

I want to talk more about this subject. Like, are we talking love or lust? And just how many other girls is he in love with? I’m dying to know what he said. I want to scream, Tell me more!