“Yes. I told you, I’m not messin’ around. Prom is serious shit, and when you throw a prom, you do it right. Now come fix my damn tie,” I say back, untying my fourteenth attempt at the bow.

“How are you my brother? I mean…seriously, I’m starting to think we need to give up on all the Barbie shit in our room, because you’re making estrogen. You’ve become an estrogen factory, like women should come visit you for donations for hormone replacement. Wait, show me your legs.” Ty is loving this, and as he reaches down to grab my pant leg to roll up the material, I kick at him.

“Dude, don’t touch my leg. What are you doing?” I say.

“Just checking to see if you’ve started shaving your legs. Your razors aren’t pink, are they?” he snickers.

“No, jack-ass. And this is just important, so cut the crap,” I say, shoving the ends of my tie in his face so he can help me.

“To whom? To Rowe? Because I was in that room an hour ago, and she was not a happy camper having Paige’s hands all over her face and head,” he says, tugging and pulling on the tie until it’s finally even on both sides.

“I know, but that’s just her style. She doesn’t like the attention and the fuss. But she likes the experience, and everyone needs to have a prom to remember. She missed out on hers,” I say, slipping my jacket on and dusting the sleeves.

“I don’t know, bro. I didn’t have a prom experience, and I turned out fine,” Ty says, winking as he turns away and reaches for the remote to flip on the TV.

“That’s because you left prom—and your prom date—after fifteen minutes, to sleep with some college chick waitress you met during the dinner,” I fire back.

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he laughs. “Ahhhhh prom. A’right, go make your own memories.”

“Shithead,” I say as I tuck my wallet into my jacket. Ty blows me a kiss when I leave.

It was so much like prom—the knocking on the door, and standing in the hallway, feeling like an ass**le while I listen to the girls giggle on the other side. I was actually sweating, I was so nervous. That all stopped the second Cass opened the door though and Rowe walked around the corner.

Her dress was white—innocent and delicate and incredibly girly. It fell down the side of one of her shoulders and soft layers of fabric hugged her body, but then ended in a blunt cut along the top of her legs. It was the shortest thing I have seen her in, and I know her legs are the only things anyone who comes in contact with us tonight are going to see. I can’t take my eyes off of them right now.

“Daaaaamn,” Rowe says, putting her fingers in her mouth to whistle. My tomboy, always trying to beat me to the punch line, steps back and holds her hand to her chin admiring me, like I’m the one out of the two of us worth admiring. “You wore a tux,” she says, and a genuine smile curves on her lips.

“All part of the Nate Preeter Prom Experience, babe,” I say, holding my arm out to escort her.

“Ewww, don’t call me babe. It feels so…I don’t know…Goodfellas!” she says, reaching for my arm and letting me guide her through the door and down the hall.

“Got it, babe,” I say with a wink, just to be an ass.

“You have her home by morning, you hear Preeter?” Cass yells down the hall after us. I just hold my hand up with an okay.

When we reach the elevator, I hold the door with my back as she steps in, and that’s when I see how far down the material scoops on her back. Ohhhhhh f**k me! The silk sways along her lower back with every shake of her hips, and I find myself rooting for it to sway just a little more, because I swear if it does I’m going to see her bare ass.

Two more guys get in the elevator with us along with a few girls, and I notice everyone looking at the back of that dress—at Rowe’s bare back. Most guys would get all kinds of protective from this and want to cover their woman up, but not me. I know what it means to Rowe to be out in something like this, to show parts of herself she normally keeps hidden. And I never want her to feel ashamed again. Rowe is hot as hell, and I want everyone to get a good look at the girl that will be with me all night, and the rest of the weekend, and the rest of the semester and…well, pretty much as long as she’ll have me.

“You seriously rented a limo,” she says when we walk up to the parking lot curb where the driver is waiting for us.

“Damn straight I did,” I say, opening the door for her to step inside. “Oh, and I almost forgot.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the small yellow wrist corsage I picked up from the town florist. It was a last-minute order, so she didn’t have time to make me anything fancy—but seeing the way it makes Rowe’s face light up when she lets me slide it over her hand, and she smells it along her wrist, makes me think this simple flower was the perfect choice.