“Maybe.” She giggles. Great.

“How much did you drink?” I ask. I had two drinks, but I can tell she’s had more.

“I don’t know . . . how much did you drink?” she teases, and lifts up the bottom of my shirt. Her cold hands rest against my hot skin, and I flinch before she nuzzles her head on my chest.

See, Zed, she’s mine. Not yours, not anyone’s, only mine.

Looking at him, I ask, “How much did she drink?”

“I’m not sure how much she drank before, but we just played two games of beer pong . . . with cherry vodka sour.”

“Wait . . . we? You two played beer pong?” I ask through my teeth.

“Nope. Cherry-vodka-sour pong!” she corrects me with a laugh and brings her head up. “We won, too, twice! I made most of the shots. Steph and Tristan were both pretty good, but we beat them. Twice!” She holds her hand up like Zed should high-five it, and he begrudgingly does a sort of air-high-five from where he stands.

This is Tessa, the girl who is so used to being the best and smartest at everything that she’s boasting over winning a game of beer pong.

I love every bit of it. “Straight vodka?” I ask Zed.

“No, it’s the mix with only a little vodka, but she had a lot of it.”

“And you brought her out here in the dark when you knew she was wasted?” I say, raising my voice.

Tessa brings her face close to mine, and I can smell the vodka and mix on her breath. “Hardin, please chill out. I’m the one who asked him if I could c-come outside with him. He told me no at first because he knew you’d act like . . . like thissss.” She frowns and tries to remove her hands from my bare stomach, but I gently put them back against my skin. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her even closer to me.

Chill out? Did she really just tell me to chill out?

“And let’sss not forget if you wouldn’t have left me, we c-could have been beer-pong partnersss,” she adds, slurring.

I know she’s right, but she’s pissing me off. How could she play with Zed, of all people? I know he has feelings for her still. Nothing compared to what I feel, but I can tell by the way he’s looking at her that he cares for her.

“Am I right, or am I right?” she asks.

“Okay, Tessa,” I growl in an attempt to silence her.

“I’m going to go inside,” Zed says, tossing his cigarette onto the ground before walking away.

Tessa watches him, then says to me, “You are so grumpy, maybe you should go back to wherever you ran off to.” She tries to pull away from me again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I respond, purposely dodging her remark about my absence.

“Then stop being grumpy—because I’m having fun tonight.” She looks up at me. Her eyes appear even lighter than usual with the black lines she colored around them.

“You couldn’t have expected me to be happy to find you alone with that motherfucker.”

“Would you rather me being out here with someone else?” She’s awfully testy when she’s drunk.

“No, you’re missing the point here,” I snap.

“There’s no point. I didn’t do anything wrong, so stop being an ass or I don’t want to hang out with you,” she threatens.

“Fine, I won’t be a grouch.” I roll my eyes.

“No rolling your eyes either,” she scolds, and I take my arms away from her waist.

“Fine, no eye rolling.” I smile.

“That’s what I thought.” She tries to fight her smile.

“You are quite bossy tonight.”

“The vodka makes me brave.”

I feel her hands move lower on my stomach. “So you want a tattoo, then?” I ask, moving her hands back up, but she defies my attempt and touches me even lower.

“Yep, maybe five.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“You aren’t getting a tattoo.” I laugh, but I’m beyond serious.

“Why not?” Her fingers play at the hem of my boxers.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober.” I know this idea will not appeal to her when she’s not drunk. “Let’s go inside.”

She slips her hand into my boxers and stands on her toes. I assume she’s going to kiss my cheek, but she brings her mouth to my ear. I hiss as she squeezes me gently in her hand.

“I think we should stay out here,” she whispers. Fuck.

“The vodka certainly makes you brave.” My voice cracks, betraying me.

“Yes . . . and it makes me hor—” she begins to say, way too loud. I cover her mouth as a small group of drunk girls walks by.

“We need to get inside, it’s freezing, and I don’t think they would appreciate me fucking you in the bushes.” I smirk, and her pupils dilate.

“But I would appreciate that very much,” she says the moment my hand uncovers her mouth.

“Jesus, Tess, a few drinks and you become sex-crazed.” I laugh, remembering Seattle and the filthy words that fell from her full lips. I need to get her inside before I take her up on her offer and drag her into the bushes.

She winks. “Only for you.”

I can’t hold in my laughter. “Let’s go.” I put my hand on her arm and pull her across the yard and into the house.

She pouts the entire time, and that makes my groin ache even more, especially when she pushes her bottom lip out. I could easily lean across and pull it between my teeth. Fuck, I’m just as bad as she is, and I’m not even drunk. Maybe a little high, but not drunk. She would be so mad if she’d found me upstairs; I didn’t actually smoke, but I was in the room and they were making it a point to blow it in my face.