I mulled it over before nodding. “Yeah, just ask. I don’t think it’ll be a good idea to go if he is, you know?”

She pulled out her phone and dialled Rome’s number.

Uncertain feelings swirled inside of me. The idea of seeing Carter was exciting, but the reality of it would be painful. I rejected him after two amazing days, and then I stressed to him about keeping things the way they’d been.

Seeing him would be awkward, to say the least.

Melanie chatted for only a minute before she got off the phone. “He said Carter’s not around, and that he’ll most likely be in his hotel room.”

“Why would he be in his hotel room?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Is he with a girl or anything?”

“I’ve sort of been dodging the news after everything. I don’t know.”

She waited patiently for me to decide. I could tell she really wanted to go and see Rome. I stuck the key into the apartment door and stepped inside. Dropping the purse to the ground, I sighed and said, “Okay. We’ll go.”

She squealed. “Yes! Okay, so I’ll be the designated driver, since it’s your graduation and all.”

“No,” I disagreed, shaking my head. “We’ll just take a taxi in and get smashed together.”

A drive there wasn’t going to be cheap, but we deserved a bit of fun.

We changed, fixed up our make-up, called a taxi and left.

On our way there, I fought the urge to look him up on the phone.

If he was with a girl, then… well, then nothing.

*

The night club was famous and known for its rowdiness. The VIP room itself was brilliant, I quickly came to realize. There was no bar drama, no waiting for an eternity to be served. It had plush seating areas throughout, and while there were a lot of people, it wasn’t obnoxiously loud.

Oh, and it was also filled with some seriously rich people.

“Oh, my God, he’s that guy in that agent movie with the secret double life,” Melanie said on a gasp, pointing across the room to some dude with a chick on his lap.

I laughed and shoved her hand down. “Don’t point!”

“There are famous B-grade actors everywhere, Leah! This is amazing.”

I rolled my eyes and glanced around the room, and then I stilled when I caught Jared’s face. He was seated on the couch, a beer bottle in his hand, chatting to some girls.

“There’s Jared!”

We spared no time going to him. The guy was exactly the same as I remembered: funny, ridiculously obnoxious, and still filled with jokes. His eyes lit up the second he saw us, and it wasn’t long after that, Leo joined, drunk and with a hand up some girl’s skirt.

“Fuck, looking good, girls,” he said.

“The drinks are on the house, by the way,” Jared then said, motioning to the bar. “Rome’s spoken to the bartenders. Just tell them your names when you get something to drink.”

“And congratulations on graduating,” Leo told me, giving me a half-assed hug. I maintained my distance, because his hand was still under some girl’s skirt. Always rowdy, of course.

“Thanks, guys!” I told them.

We reminisced for a bit, conversing about all that’d happened. They seemed happy. We drank a lot, and Melanie dragged me to the dance floor. We danced, our heads growing cloudier by the minute, when Rome suddenly intervened, hugging me tightly.

“Congratulations, Leah!” he shouted over the music. “I’m glad you showed up!”

I smiled back at him. “Thanks for inviting us out.”

He turned to Melanie, his eyes roaming her up and down for a flash of a second. She was dressed to kill in a mini-skirt and halter top. I was, per usual, on the tamer side, in black tights and a billowy top with purposeful rips along the side. I guess it was meant to look hip? I didn’t know. I’d just borrowed it out of Melanie’s dresser before we left.

She maintained her distance from him, smiling friendly, but I could see the want in her eyes as she nervously looked around. They spoke, very briefly, before he left her alone to get some drinks.

“You okay, babe?” I asked her.

“Yeah,” she answered with a nod, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.

We took breaks in between dancing and downed tequila shots at the table with the boys. As I got drunker, my thoughts meandered to Carter. I glanced around the room, part of me hoping I’d see him, the other part of me glad I hadn’t.

It was only toward the end of the evening, while dancing half-drunkenly on the floor, that I caught the overwhelming scent of him. Hands went around me, roaming up and down the sides of my body. I knew it was him. Those calloused fingers were a dead giveaway.

My back sank into his chest, the top of my head hit his chin. His body moved with the music, and I was more intent on moving against him. My ass rubbed his pelvis, and I felt his face brush against the side of mine.

“Congratulations,” he said in my ear, his voice breathless and hoarse.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to him. The room was dim, but his eyes looked bright. I lost myself in them as we danced, and I knew right away, by the minty smell of his mouth and the solemn look on his face, that he was completely sober.

The second he began to pull away, I grabbed his arm and forced it around my stomach. “No,” I told him. “Don’t go.”

He paused, staring down at me with a pained look. On a sigh, he moved closer to me. I turned my body in his arms and wrapped my own around his neck, looking up at him, in awe of his beauty.

My fingers combed through the hair at the nape of his neck as he only slowly moved. The music was fast paced, and we were like snails on the floor, more content on the feel of each other’s bodies than anything else.

The heat of him combined with the alcohol had me needy and wanting. I moved as close to him as humanly possible, feeling him harden against me. My breathing slowed as he dipped his head to me, his forehead pressed against mine.

I remembered how good he felt, and for a moment, I wanted him again. I wanted his length inside of me, wanted to know what it felt like to be pleasured again by his dexterous hands. My lips brushed against the stubble along his cheeks, and his breathing hitched. His eyes stared into my own as I barely pressed my lips against his soft plump ones.

He shook before me, that pain permeating his features as he muttered, “You told me you weren’t ready.”