“I want you tonight,” he said, rubbing my exposed thigh, his nose running up my neck. “Bridget and I aren’t exclusive, and she doesn’t mind sharing . . . or watching if you want.”

“I see.” No, I didn’t. Not really.

I suddenly felt hot and sticky, and my head had started to hurt a little, maybe because my woozy brain was having a hard time processing his words. Why had I killed all those shots? “Cuba, I’m afraid you’ll need to tell it to me straight, because it’s possible I’m hallucinating here. Are you suggesting you actually be with us both . . . like a threesome?” I said, whispering out the last part.

He chuckled at my lowered voice. “Tonight it could just be me and you. Maybe if she sobers up, we’ll invite Bridget?”

I spent several seconds in a daze, looking him over, absorbing his unruly black hair, the caramel complexion, and those beautiful eyes. And somewhere in the middle of gazing into his eyes, I imagined I saw a similar sadness in his, much like my own reflected back at me. Who was this guy? Maybe he had dark secrets, too? The kind that could destroy him if anyone found out?

I separated my eyes from his, thinking about his naughty suggestion. A truly bad girl would jump at the chance to be with a guy and a girl at the same time. It was just an extra body, right? I squinted at him, my brain analyzing how it would work, trying to picture whose arm would go here and whose leg would go there. Who got to have sex first? What would the extra person do while the other two were busy? Maybe do a critique?

It was a lot to think about.

And Cuba. No doubt about it, he was incredibly handsome. Even though he had a giant-ass ego, I sincerely liked him. But was it enough to be with someone who wanted another person to join in?

Why was I waffling? Isn’t this what I wanted? To destroy perfect Nora?

“Let’s go find an empty room,” he said in a husky voice, his thumb rubbing little circles over and over on my bare shoulder. “You won’t regret it, babe,” he whispered, the yellow of his gaze mesmerizing me, reminding me of a calico cat I’d had once.

I’d loved that cat.

You know, everyone has a little voice inside them that whispers advice, and my internal whisperer-person, whom I pictured as a cooler me in black leather pants and riding a Harley, was letting me have it. Sometimes I get distracted and don’t heed that voice. But now, I listened to that tough bitch on the motorcycle. I listened to my gut.

I sighed regretfully. “I will never share my man.”

He gave me a smoldering look, unfazed. “Is that so?”

“I want all the attention,” I said softly, not able to resist brushing his hair off his face. He caught my hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed my palm. He took my index finger, put it in his mouth, and sucked. I shivered. He wasn’t Leo, and he didn’t make my heart race, but he was extremely easy to look at.

But, it didn’t feel right sitting on him and gazing into his eyes when I’d been kissing Leo just a couple of hours ago.

I wanted to want Cuba. And it pissed me off that I didn’t.

“Nora!” Sebastian said from across the room, interrupting my thoughts and stomping over to us. He glared at me sprawled out on Cuba and then at all the empty shooter glasses scattered on the floor. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. Like he was the boss of me.

“Here I am.”

“So, I see,” he said, scowling at Cuba. He stuck out his hand to help me up. “Come on, let’s head outside to the pool and get some air.”

I ignored his hand and picked up another shot from the tray and tossed it down. I got up and looked back at Cuba. “Someday, I’m going to be first.”

He shrugged like he’d already forgotten me. “If you change your mind, babe, let me know.”

Sebastian and I walked toward the patio door, and he tried to take my elbow, but I snatched it back. “What’s your deal?” I slurred.

“Cuba was hitting on you, and I didn’t like it.”

“Why? I thought he was your friend?”

“You are, too. Look, he has a bad reputation when it comes to girls. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend, Sebastian. Just a good time. And, I don’t need a guard dog,” I said in a huff.

Outside, I heard someone yelling my name and turned to see a group of senior girls I knew from the yearbook staff. Not seeing Emma or April in their vicinity, I left a sullen Sebastian standing there and walked over.

I joined their group and in fake-girl fashion, they proceeded to tell me how fabulous my hair was and how they adored my dress and shoes. When in reality, they probably thought my dress was hideous and my hair trashy. Every Parkie girl grows up knowing that if you want to fit in, you gotta smile and lie your ass off. Yet the alcohol must have kicked in, because I half-way believed what they said.

One of them asked, “Why did you go off at registration?”

“Oh, you know, I just wanted to be a rebel and rock the system a little,” I replied, pumping my fist in the air. Total lie.

“Well, it made an impression on someone in particular,” she said, cutting her glance toward a group of guys. When I looked confused, she elaborated by whispering to me, “Matt Dawson. I heard him asking around if you were coming tonight.”

I looked back at the guys and, sure enough, BA’s quarterback was staring at me with open admiration as he sauntered in our direction.

“Did he and Emma break up?”

“Yep, right after you told Emma about April which was hilarious, by the way. She wants him back, of course, I mean, who wouldn’t. He is the quarterback.”

Matt strolled with confidence over to us like the player he was, and the closer he got, I could see why all the girls chased him. With those velvety brown eyes and sexy grin, he was a heartbreaker.

“Hey, Nora, you wanna dance?” he said, putting his arm around me. The smell of sweat and alcohol assailed my nose and the word no was on the tip of my tongue, but then I remembered Leo and how he had Tiffany.

“Sure. Come on,” I said, inviting the other girls out with us, not quite ready to be alone with him. I’d just walked away from Cuba. Was I ready to jump right back in?

The DJ was playing some old school Beastie Boys, and we danced on the makeshift dance floor Emma had set up, complete with blinking strobe lights and colored twinkling lights hanging from the trees that surrounded the pool. We stayed out there for almost an hour dancing, and Matt never took his hooded eyes off me. It verged on creepy.