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Dream On(70)

Author:Angie Hockman

“Where have you been? You missed the fireworks!”

“I saw them. We watched from over there.” I motion toward the hill.

“Why not with me?” She frowns.

“You and Marcus seemed busy.”

“Oh. Yeah, we were.” She giggles.

About a hundred questions are poised on my tongue, but before I can get even one of them out, Marcus joins us, looping an arm around Brie’s shoulder. “What’s up, ladies?” he says.

“Afterparty is what’s up,” Devin chimes in. “Punch Bowl Social. You in?”

“Hell yes, we’re in!” croons Brie. “Right, guys?” She bumps Marcus’s hip. Even through the dark, I swear I can see his cheeks turn red. He’s officially off-the-charts adorable with how hard he’s crushing on Brie. “If you and Cass are game,” she adds. “Cass, what do you say? Party time?” She’s practically radiating hope.

I force a smile even as my calf muscles bunch. “Sure, sounds fun.”

Devin loops his arm around me. It rests on my shoulder like a bag of potatoes. “That’s more like it.”

Perry steps forward. “If you’d rather go home, I’d be happy to drive you,” he says quietly.

I glance at Brie, but her attention has already shifted back to Marcus. Pushing onto her tiptoes, she nudges a curl off his forehead with her finger. She’s finally taken the plunge, and me telling her I’d rather go home right now would be like tossing a bucket of water onto a nascent flame. She’d insist on driving me herself, and even if I managed to convince her to stay and let Perry take me home, she’d probably be all up in her head about why I didn’t want to go in the first place instead of focusing on the cute guy who’s clearly head-over-heels interested in her. No way am I standing in the way of them having a good time tonight. “No, it’s okay. I’ll stay. Thank you though.”

Devin’s phone trills from his pocket and he answers it. “Yo, Jai. Are you and Anisha coming to Punch Bowl? Wait, Mikey did what?” Plugging his other ear, he strides away toward the thick of the party, which is a jumble of boisterous shouting, shuffling, and clanging as people pack up and trickle toward the parking lot.

I turn toward Brie and Marcus, but they’re already deep in conversation. I might as well be a hundred miles away.

Perry clears his throat. “Well, I’m taking off. Have fun.” He begins to leave, but I stop him with a touch to his forearm. His muscles jump under my fingertips.

“No afterparty for you?” I ask.

“Nah. I’ve already had one encounter with drunk Mikey tonight, which means I’ve met my quota for the year.”

I laugh softly. “I understand.”

“Cass—I…” He clears his throat again, and my gut seizes. We stare at each other, my heart thumping harder with each passing second. Finally, he shifts his weight and looks away.

“Be careful with Devin, okay?”

My stomach sinks. I thought we were past this. “I know you’re protective of him, but really, you have nothing to worry about. I’d never do anything to hurt him.”

“I meant be careful for yourself. I don’t want to see you get hurt either.”

I blink back my surprise. “You think Devin is going to hurt me?”

“Not on purpose.”

“I thought you said earlier I should cut him some slack. But now you’re telling me to watch out?”

He sighs. “I love Devin, but he tends to have a short attention span where women are concerned. When things start getting serious is usually when he bails.”

“That’s not how it was with Sadie though.”

“She was the exception.”

And apparently, if Mikey is to be believed, at one point he considered proposing—before whatever happened between them happened.

Perry shifts his weight. “Look, you’re the first woman he’s shown an interest in since Sadie, and, well, his track record with women generally hasn’t included long-term relationships. I—I just thought you should know.”

Emotion swells in my chest. Here’s Perry, offering me a warning he certainly doesn’t owe me. The connection we experienced during the fireworks blazes hot and bright between us, and I don’t know whether to fling my arms around his neck or take off running into the night. Goose bumps prickle my flesh and I settle for stepping back and rubbing my arms instead.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the afterparty?” I ask, despite myself.

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