Hayes rubs his hand over my lower back. “You okay?” “Me? Oh, yeah. Good. Great. Having a blast.” A frown needles the tight line of his lips. “If it’s too much, we can always just leave,” he tells me. I shake my head vigorously. “No, I want to be here. I just haven’t been to a party like this since my freshman year of college.” “I wish I would’ve met you sooner. College you seems like the life of the party,” he jests, tracing his finger over the ridge of my spine. Scarlet melts into my cheeks, a barely there blush in the low light of the house. I would’ve died if I’d met Hayes in college.
