FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
It’s beentwo months since my boyfriend, Zane, moved to Seattle. My friend Rissa is doing my hair, teasing it into perfect waves while I’m trying not to fidget.
“You’re going to make me burn you if you don’t sit still,” she warns.
I roll my eyes, forcing myself to stop bouncing my knee. “Sorry. Just nervous, I guess.”
“About what? We’re going to have so much fun,” she says, curling the last section of my hair. “No dates means no drama. Just a bunch of us girls partying the night away.”
She’s right. Going stag with my friends is probably the best decision I’ve made all year. No stress, no expectations. Just dancing and having fun with people I actually like.
“There.” She steps back to admire her handiwork. “Take a look.”
I stand and walk over to check myself out in the full-length mirror. My black dress hugs every curve; and the plunging neckline shows just enough cleavage to be interesting without givingeverything away. Dark smoky eyeshadow makes my green eyes pop, and my black hair—which matches the color of my nail polish—falls in soft waves down my back.
“Damn,” I murmur, turning to check out the back. “We clean up pretty good.”
Rissa adjusts her purple dress with a giggle. “Hell yeah, we do.”
The doorbell rings, and I hear my mom calling up the stairs. “Girls! Your limo is here!”
We grab our clutches and make our way down to the foyer where my parents are waiting, cameras ready.
“Oh, wow!” Mom gushes. “You both look absolutely beautiful.”
Dad just nods, looking a little misty-eyed as he gives me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Stunning.”
Logan walks in from the kitchen, checking his phone, looking handsome in his tux. “Our limo just pulled up too,” he announces. He stops when he sees me and his eyebrows shoot up. “Wow, sis. You look... not terrible.”
I punch his arm. “Gee, thanks.”
Footsteps sound on the stairs behind me and I turn to see Rowan wearing a perfectly fitted black suit that makes his shoulders look even broader than usual. His hair is styled back from his face, and for a heartbeat, all I can do is stare.
Our eyes lock, and something electric passes between us. His gaze travels slowly down my body and up, lingering just a beat too long on my cleavage before snapping back up to my face. The intensity in his eyes makes my skin tingle, but before I can decipher what it could mean, he quickly looks away.
“Okay, everyone!” Mom trills, waving her hand to gather us together. “I need at least one good group photo before you all scatter!”
With a groan, I move into position, careful to stand as faraway from Rowan as possible. But, of course, Mom ruins that strategy right off the bat.
“Lizzy, scoot in closer to Rowan. Logan, you’re blocking Rissa. There we go—perfect!” She beams, camera raised. “Say ‘prom night’!”
We all plaster on our smiles while she snaps about twenty pictures from different angles, while Dad stands behind her, looking amused.
“Just one more,” she promises. “Oh, you all look so grown up!”
Having just turned eighteen last week, Rowan’s body heat radiates in the minuscule amount of space between us. It’s maddening how it makes my skin prickle with awareness when his chest brushes against the back of my arm.
“Come on, Mom. Our limo’s waiting,” Logan grumbles, checking his watch. “Rowan and I need to go pick up our dates.”
“Who are you taking again, Rowan?” my mom asks.
“Michelle Withers.”
I struggle not to roll my eyes. Michelle is a straight-up bitch.
“Well, be safe and have fun,” she says, giving us each a hug. “I want you all home by one a.m. No exceptions.”
“Okay,” I say, giving my dad a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out the door.
