He raises his fist again, but before he knocks, I undo the lock and yank it open. For a moment he pauses, hand hovering mid-air, like he can’t believe I actually answered the door.
“I feel like I’m missing something here, a new fashion trend maybe.” Wes quirks a brow as he scans down the length of my body. His gaze sends sparks against the exposed expanses of my skin. Besides my knee-high boots, I’m only in a sports bra and shorts that cling to me.
“I was going for a run.”
“As one does in four-inch heels,” he says matter-of-factly, but his lips twitch as he fights a smile.
I prop a fist on my hip and lean in the doorway. “They do if they don’t want to sound like a wheezing mess on stage. What are you doing here?”
“The rest of the dancers and band members are throwing a party on a private beach. I was headed that way and wanted to see if you wanted to join.” He twirls his key ring around a finger, showing off the fob of his Honda.
“Wes—”
“Of course, I could leave and go by myself, but I remember you explicitly said you want to have fun.” He shrugs. “But I guess not everyone is a fan of a good old fashioned beach bonfire.”
“Threatening me with a good time?” If everyone else is out, what’s the harm in joining?
“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”
15
Wesley
September 2025
When I asked her to come to the party I was expecting to spend the night with her. Notwith her,with her. But maybe sit by the fire. If she got cold, I’d take off the sweatshirt I specifically grabbed in case she needed to borrow it. And I don’t know, tomorrow she might walk into rehearsal wearing it.
Yeah. No luck on that front.
She’s talking to her drummer, a guy named Warren. And sure, it’s great that she’s comfortable with the members of her band but I could live without her hand playfully landing on his bicep.
“What about you, Wes? Would you be down?”
“Huh?” I ask, the sound of my name startling me back in the conversation I was only sort of having with a few of the dancers on the crew. “Sorry, I was spacing out.”
“There’s a party up in the Hills tonight my friend can get us into. Well, I doubt you need an invitation but the rest of us would. It’s one of those themed things that is bound to get crazy. Want to come with us?” says Emory, a tall blond dancer wearing a cut off tank that shows off his lean physique.
“Probably not. I want to be on time for tomorrow’s rehearsal. I’m planning on heading out soon. And I’m Avery’s ride.”
“I bet Warren will give her one if she needs,” another dancer says, voice silky with suggestion, and it takes everything in me not to snap at them.
I look back toward where Avery is standing but now, she’s alone, and Warren is walking to the cooler a few feet away from us.
Leaving the group and their dreams of Hollywood parties, I get to the beer cooler just as Warren’s pulling out a drink. The half-melted ice inside sloshes as he forces the lid closed.
“Is that for Avery?” I ask, indicating with my chin.
His brows raise with apprehension “Yeah? I was just grabbing it for her.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got it.” My fingers wrap around the cool base of the drink and tug but he holds on.
“She asked me for it.”
“Only because I wasn’t there. You know I’m right.” I wink. There’s another second of resistance before he lets go. “Good man,” I say, slapping his shoulder as I walk past him.
Sand crunches under my bare feet as I approach. All around us, the rush of waves mixes with the pop music throbbing from a speaker set on a log by the fire.
“What are you drinking?” Avery asks.
