The horn honked again.

“No.”

“Please, we have to talk, and if you don’t get me into the dance, I bet someone else at your high school will.”

Ashley stepped in close and looked him in the eyes. She searched their blue-green depths for his intent, but she didn’t have to look hard. Working with him all last summer told her how much he liked to get his way. He’d do it. She said, “No scene at the dance. If you go, we call a truce, and we’ll talk after.”

Caz nodded and clasped her hand. She tried to jerk out of his grip, but he tightened his hold. She tried to keep her fingers from trembling at the sensation of holding his hand again. He followed her back out into the lighted darkness of suburbia. Two limos were parked in front of her house. That was a first. Caz gestured toward the one in front and released her. “Let me grab my jacket.”

Her fingers flexed at the loss of his, and she retreated to the second limo. Opening the door, she saw Marissa’s sparkling face. Marissa snapped her tube of plum lip gloss closed, shoved it into her bag, and held up her wrist. “Check out the corsage my date bought me. Eggplant ribbons to match my dress. He’s getting the biggest kiss ever for remembering that my favorite is an orchid.”

“Gorgeous.” Ashley held up hers. “Mom picked white roses.” The iridescent ribbons wound around the petals.

“Pretty.”

Ashley moved further into the car and took a seat, leaving the door open behind her. In a rushed voice she said, “Caz showed and called a temporary truce. I’m bringing him.”

Marissa’s jaw dropped, and she didn’t have time to close her mouth before Caz climbed in and took the seat next to Ashley, which was probably good, because it would have fallen open again when Caz grabbed Ashley’s hand then smiled his movie star smile. “Hi, I’m Caz.”

Marissa’s mouth snapped closed and she said nothing.

Ashley totally got it. Caz was stunning in person. She hadn’t let that faze her this summer, because once he became a real person to her, she just saw him as Caz, not as a famous star. Seeing him after all this time let her see him objectively. He’d put on a dark jacket. There were no other words—Caz was movie star handsome.

The limo moved forward.

Caz said, “Ashley shared one or two of your texts. They helped us get through some crazy long shoots. Did you really wear a fry costume?”

Marissa sent Ashley a mild glare then laughed. “With crazy pride. So, uh, you’ve gone to many of these things?”

“I was tutored on set since the age of fourteen. I’ve never been to a proper high school dance.”

Marissa said, “Well, it’ll be normal until they realize who you are.”

Tensing, Ashley turned to warn Caz, “Everyone will have a cell phone.”

Caz shrugged. “Probably.”

Ashley looked down for a second, then held his gaze. “Okay. I want you to go with me.”

***

They got out at Michelle’s and her mom took photos. Together they were a group of twelve. Caz stayed in the back with her, and everyone, so absorbed in the photos, their dates, and their parents, accepted him as her date, Caz.

The twelve of them crushed into the limo built to hold ten, and Caz pulled Ashley onto his lap. She slid her arm around his neck and whispered in his ear, “You’re good at the truce. Are you acting?”

Caz slid a hand to her face and put his lips to her ear to whisper, “No, this will be fun. Your friends are cool.”

“They are.”

He said, “If I wasn’t nice, you’d probably kick me out and make me get into my own car.”

“I would.”

Steve pulled out a bottle of champagne. How had he hidden that from Michelle’s parents?

Michelle lined up champagne flutes, Steve laced them with champagne, and Marissa topped them off with orange juice, describing the way to get perfect fresh-squeezed, and passed the glasses out.

Steve saluted their school mascot. “To the Dragons.”

“Cheers.”

That was when Michelle recognized Caz. She choked and stared. To Michelle’s credit, she said nothing but sent a frantic look at Marissa, who nodded.

The limo jolted over another speed bump, sliding Ashley closer to Caz’s chest. They were nearing the school, and it was hard to stay upright, so she relaxed against him.

Caz whispered in her ear, “Orange juice and limos.”

***

Caz held her hand, and they walked up the front sidewalk surrounded by her friends, a loud, laughing group. At the entrance to the school commons, a photographer took their picture under a red balloon arch, but after that flash, they entered the gym, where the only light was provided by tiny white bulbs that twinkled.

Her friends grabbed a table in the corner, by the back wall. Ashley worried Caz would bring up their argument, but he didn’t. He seemed to want to hang out. He danced, laughed, and drank the watery strawberry punch like everyone else. The evening was exhilarating, made all the better by the fact that it was too dark for anyone to recognize him. Her friends, who had by now figured out who he was, were cool enough to be quiet about his identity.

When the principal announced the King and Queen, and the cute couple took the floor, a spotlight lit up their dance and the strains of the “Love’s Romantic Ruin” ballad emerged from the speakers. Ashley sucked in a breath and stiffened. She knew the song would play tonight, it was too popular not to, but the music sounded bittersweet. Her gaze swung to Caz.

Caz stood with a quirked eyebrow and tilted chin. His hand raised, palm up. “That’s oursong.” He led her to the dance floor in one of those rare perfect moments.

Head up, eyes glistening, she let him pull her into two-step position. Caz smiled wickedly then put her hand around his neck so his could slide around her waist.

Her right hand touched the back of his silky hair, and she toyed with the strands, while her left squeezed his hand. He’d disobeyed her about making a scene, but in the sweetest way possible. She closed her eyes, embracing the exquisite moment.

The Queen said, “Ashley, what are you doing?”

Caz stared at the Queen until her mouth fell open and she stopped dancing. Her partner bumped into her, and he stared at Ashley, then at Caz, then back.

The flash of a cell phone lit the dance floor. A second joined the first. A whisper reached them. More cameras flashed and the whispers got louder. That was when Ashley knew the dance had to end. She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning against his chest, wanting just one more perfect second.

Then as the song transitioned, she took his hand and said, “Run.”

***

Once they settled inside the limo, Ashley tensed, and her stomach knotted. The end of the dance equaled the end of the truce. She looked out the window, upset at what was about to happen.

Caz turned her toward him. “About the —”

“Wait,” Ashley said. “I want one more minute.” She slipped onto his lap and put her arms around his neck. Leaning forward, she gave him a soft, sweet kiss. His mouth felt familiar, warm. Caz tasted like strawberry punch and the best parts of summer. Ashley said, “Thanks for the dance.”

Caz wrapped an arm around her knees before she slipped away and he leaned into her. His right hand slid behind her head and his lips moved against hers, firm and intent.

She parted her mouth. Heaven. Rubbing his back, she resented the material that kept him from her and pushed closer.

He released her mouth to draw in a shaky breath. Her brain began functioning again, and she pulled away and brushed a hand over hair. “I —” Ashley shook her head, not really knowing what to say. Caz muttered something in French and she leaned in eagerly, hoping her additional semester of the language would help her understand him, but he didn’t repeat the words.

The limo slowed in front of her house, and a flash lit the evening. The flash came from her driveway, from the large number of paparazzi standing in her yard.