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An hour later, I’m winded and need something that isn’t vodka. I walk into the kitchen and feel his eyes on me as I go, but I don’t look at him. My body already knows it’s him. I chug a water, and then I walk over to him. He’s in the middle of a game of beer pong.

I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him down to my ear. “I’m ready to go now.”

He pulls back just far enough to meet my eyes. “Home?”

I shake my head, looking at his mouth. “Yours.”

He watches me.

“But I have to warn you.” I pull his head back down so I can whisper it. “I want you to fuck me.”

Something happens in his face. He hands Rafe the ball without looking at him. “Finish it.”

Koda throws his arms up. “Come on. One more.”

Nash takes the ball back, sinks the cup without looking at it, and then he’s pulling me through the party. I catch Kenzie’s eye, and Paige’s, on my way out. Paige blows me a kiss, and I blow one back.

The walk takes eight minutes, and he carries me for half of it because I’m not walking fast enough, apparently. We don’t talk, and I’m laughing almost the whole way, because he can’t seem to wait. The lobby is empty. He looks at the elevator and takes the stairs, and he carries me all the way up three flights while I laugh because I can’t believe he’s this strong, and my heart flaps around like a bird in a cage with every step closer to his room. Rafe is still at the party, so we have the room to ourselves.

The door shuts, and he puts me on my feet, and then we’re just on each other. His hands are on my face and my back hits the wall. I get my arms around his neck, and he lifts me again and carries me four steps and puts me down on his bed. The mattress is a slab. The blanket smells like him. My dress is somewhere around my hips, and I don’t care.

“Kylie.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been thinking about this since this morning.”

“Only since this morning?”

“Since the laundry room,” he says, and kisses me before I can say anything about that, which is probably smart.

I get his hoodie off over his head and throw it somewhere, and then I reach for the hem of his T-shirt, and his hand closes around my wrist. “Leave it.”

For about half a second, everything in me goes still, because I’m lying under him in the dark in his bed, his hand is around my wrist, and I know exactly what’s under that shirt. I saw it on Greeley’s driveway. I saw the shiny, melted-smooth skin, the faint netted pattern, the purple at the edges in the cold. He isn’t looking at me. He’s looking at my hand, and his shoulders have gone tight, and he means it.

“Okay,” I say, dropping it.

I don’t ask. I take my hand back, put it on his shoulder on top of the fabric, and pull him down. Something changes in the way he kisses me for about three seconds. It goes slower and deeper and sweeter. Then it’s gone, his hand slides up the back of my dress, and I stop being able to think at all.

We don’t get anything else off. He reaches between my legs, and I’m already wet, and he slides a finger into me, then another, and drags them up to my clit, and my whole body tightens around him.

“Nash,” I moan.

He rubs me until my hips come off the bed, and then he says, “Fuck, condom,” and pulls back to dig one out of a bag inside a bag in his things, like he hadn’t planned on needing it. He comes back with it on, and instead of taking off my thong, he pulls it to the side. I lock up for one second, knowing there’s no going back after this.

He stops.

I look him in the eye. “Fuck me,” I whisper.

He rips open the condom, glides it on, and then presses an inch into me, and then another, and I feel myself stretch for him and arch to meet him. He kisses me through it, and my head falls back into his pillow. He isn’t gentle once he’s in. He moves like if he doesn’t go this fast, he’ll fall apart. He bites the top of my shoulder, and I remember what Paige said.

“Your dick feels so fucking good,” I say, and the words tumble out slow.

He holds my thong to the side and drives into me and grabs my knee and bends it. “Your pussy feels so fucking good,” he says back, and heat rolls all the way through me.

I pull him down to kiss me. I keep my hands on top of his shirt, holding his shoulders. He puts his mouth on my collarbone, and I get my fingers in his hair and pull, and he says fuck against my throat. For a second, he rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask, with my hand on the side of his face.