After my meltdown in the bathroom, I decide to spend the rest of the night in the entertainment room, where some partygoers are playing snooker, video games, and beer pong.

I flop down on the couch, settling in right next to the gamers, who don’t even notice me, their eyes glued to the large TV in front of us. Next, I grab my phone and notice a few unread messages from Lucas on a messaging app.

Lucas

Mily, what are you doing?

Lucas

Please, talk to me because I’m bored.

Lucas

Mily?

Lucas

Are you there?

Lucas

Emily?

Lucas

Emily Sky?

Lucas

Yo!

Emily

Why are you spamming me? 

Lucas

What took you so long to reply to my messages?

Emily

Sorry. I didn't see them before.

Emily

Why are you texting me?

Emily

Aren't you supposed to be enjoying the holidays in the Hamptons?

Lucas

I’m in the Hamptons, but so is my entire family, and by entire, I mean uncles, aunts, and dozens of cousins.

Emily

Is that a bad thing?

Lucas

It is when my uncles and older cousins keep giving me wedgies.

Lucas

Lucas Junior, Lucas The Third, and Lucas The Fourth can't handle being squished anymore.

Emily

Lucas The Third and Lucas The Fourth?

Lucas

My eggs down there.

I burst into laughter like a madwoman, not even caring that the gamers glance at me in amusement.

Emily

I can't believe you named them.

Lucas

They’re too beautiful and precious not to be named.

Lucas

You know that because you saw them when we had sex.

Emily

Excuse me? I didn't pay attention to them.

Lucas

That’s because you were too busy moaning and screaming my name.

Once again, I let out a loud laugh.

“Emily Sky.”

“Huh?” I glance up at the sound of my name, only to meet Dylan Fuller’s gaze as he sits on the arm of the couch.

“What a nice surprise,” he says, a broad smile on his face.

“Dylan…” I immediately scowl, annoyed by the unexpected and unpleasant encounter.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he continues.

“Life is full of surprises,” I snort, looking away from the being who once made a bet with his friends about my virginity seven years ago.

“How are you?” he asks casually.

“Fine.” I shrug.

“You look beautiful,” he states, reaching out to touch my shoulder.

I pull away immediately, hissing, “Don’t touch me.”

“Sorry.” He gives me an apologetic look.

“Where is the poor soul you’re marrying—I mean, your fiancée?” I glance around, half-expecting to see her nearby.

“She’s outside with her friends. Anyway, I didn’t know you were back from New York.”

“I’m not.”

“You aren’t?” He looks surprised. “You do know we’re in Lancaster, right?”

“I’m here to spend Thanksgiving with my dad.” I roll my eyes.

“That makes sense.” He nods.

“How about you? What have you been up to?”

“I moved back to Lancaster last year, and I work with computers now,” he responds, puffing out his chest with pride. “I’m super successful, you know.”

“Why did you move back to Lancaster? Are there no computers in Columbia?” I snort.

Dylan laughs, his dimples showing. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“Neither have you. You’re the same jerk you have always been.” My unladylike snort slips out again.

“I don’t blame you for hating me, considering what I did,” he mutters, wincing.

“I don’t hate you, Dylan. In fact, I don’t hate anyone—aside from that pizza guy who ‘forgot’ the oregano on my pizza,” I scoff.

Dylan chuckles, then hesitates for a moment before asking, “How did you find out about the bet?”

“Your not-so-terrible friends told me.”

“That explains why you didn’t stop hanging out with them even after you found out,” he mutters, pensive.

“Out of curiosity, what did you win with that stupid bet?” Even though his behavior disgusts me, I can’t help wondering what exactly my virginity was worth for a jerk like him and his terrible friends.

“Popularity, status with the guys, you know,” he replies with a shrug, a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

I grimace, the answer proving just how shallow people can be. My heart, my self-worth, and my pride were all wrecked because some idiot wanted to impress his friends. Unbelievable.

Gosh, I feel like kicking Dylan Junior, Dylan the Third, and Dylan the Fourth just to get it out of my system.

I exhale slowly, trying to calm down.

Note to self—kick Lucas when I see him.

I know he has nothing to do with this, but now I can’t stop thinking about his ridiculous “parts”.

“I’m sorry for using you, Mily. I really am,” Dylan asserts. “For what it’s worth, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, and you’ll always be my first love,” he adds, gazing lovingly at me.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” I ask, my expression flat.

He opens his mouth in horror. “Of course not. Why would I mess with you like that?”

“Is that another joke?” I arch an eyebrow, unfazed.

“There you are, Emi,” Andrew calls as he approaches and stops in front of me, blocking part of the TV where the gamers are playing some chaotic game with cars and guns.

“You’re blocking the screen, dude,” one of the gamers complains, motioning for Andrew to move.

Andrew ignores him and crouches in front of me, meeting my eyes. “I’m sorry for breaking your heart and not being more considerate of your feelings. I liked you, but I also liked Charlotte, and in the end, I dated her because it felt like we had more in common, you know? She was more outgoing and liked the same things I did, while you were quieter and more reserved.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Andrew, stop. I’m not interested in hearing any more lies.”

“They aren’t lies,” he shoots back, pressing his lips in a thin line, his brows furrowed.

“Aren’t you Charlie’s boyfriend?” Dylan cuts in, confused.

Andrew, who seems to notice him only now, stiffens and snarls, “What the hell are you doing here, Dylan?”

“Why are you yelling at me?” Dylan recoils, clearly thrown off.

Andrew turns back to me. “Why are you with him?” He points at Dylan, who still looks lost.

“I’m not.” I roll my eyes. “He’s the one who came over to me.”

“Haven’t you caused enough damage already, Dylan?” Andrew snaps.

Dylan glares at him in response, asking, “Where’s Charlie?”

“Charlotte and I broke up years ago,” Andrew declares coldly.

Dylan then turns to me, disbelief flashing across his face as he gasps, “Are you dating him, Emily?” He points at Andrew.

“What? No,” I answer immediately, smacking his shoulder.

“Then why—?”

“Can you leave her alone?” Andrew barks, drawing the gamers’ attention.

Ignoring him, Dylan continues, “What’s his problem, Mily?” 

“My problem is you,” Andrew replies, rising to his feet. “You made a stupid bet with your friends,” he seethes.

“A bet that had nothing to do with you,” Dylan shoots back.

“It had everything to do with me because Emily was my friend.”

“Is that so?” Dylan stands up, facing him head-on. “If I remember correctly, Emily couldn’t stand you, which was why she chose to hang out with my friends and me when we started dating,” he taunts.

“Emily was hanging out with you because you were her boyfriend,” Andrew scoffs.

“Then why did she keep hanging out with me even after we broke up?”

“Oh, for god’s sake.” I press my fingers to my temples, scowling deeply. “This is way too much drama for me.”

“You had no right to humiliate Emily by betting on her innocence with your stupid friends, Dylan,” Andrew states, effectively announcing the bet to the gamers watching the scene unfold.

“Oh yeah? And you had every right to date Charlie and rub it in Emily’s face?” Dylan claps back, narrowing his eyes.

“That’s it,” I snap, my voice cutting through the room and silencing everyone. “You—and you.” I point at Andrew, then at Dylan. “Screw both of you. Go to hell.” I flip them off before storming out without looking back.

Needless to say, I’m fuming as I make my way to the backyard. What the hell was that? Were Andrew and Dylan actually arguing because of me? Me?

“Emily,” Andrew calls from behind me.

I let out an annoyed groan when his hands catch my waist, stopping me in my tracks.

“I’m sorry for losing it.” He forces me to face him, his expression tense. “I shouldn’t have confronted Dylan like that. It was out of line.”

I step closer to him, my voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Andrew Keegan, I hate you right now.”

He chuckles, some of the tension leaving his face. “That’s fair. I deserve that.”

I brush past him, adding teasingly, “At least we agree on something.”

“Guess we do.” He chuckles again.

“Let’s just go back to the others.” I head toward the door to the backyard.

The moment I step outside, a cold gust hits me, making me shiver and regret not bringing a coat instead of assuming I would be fine in a light blouse and my old, worn-out jeans. This is what I get for trying to look nicer and more presentable for Andrew.

“Are you cold?” Andrew asks, noticing my discomfort.

I nod and wrap my arms around myself.

“Here,” he says, taking off his jacket and red hooded sweater. “You can wear this.” 

Before I can react, he slips the sweater over my shoulders, helping me ease my arms into the sleeves.

“Oh my gosh. Your sweater smells really good,” I blurt out, inhaling the scent.

“Really?” He smiles, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah.” I glance up, smiling back. “It smells like you.”

“You like my smell?” His smile turns into a teasing grin.

“Uh-oh. Red alert. Abort mission, Emily. Just run for your life,” my brain warns me.

“Technically, I like your cologne,” I reply, clearing my throat.

“Great save, Sky. You’re on fire tonight,” I tell myself.

“Are you serious?” Andrew chuckles, brushing a quick kiss against my cheek. “Let’s get something to eat and drink,” he adds, taking my hand and leading me toward the fire pit, where our friends are gathered.

“What happened to Dylan?” I ask, though honestly, I’m more interested in roasted marshmallows and a glass of wine.

 Andrew shrugs. “No idea. I left him in the entertainment room.”

“Your behavior was out of line. You know that, right?” I shoot him an annoyed look.

He apologizes, lifting my hand and pressing a quick kiss to it. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“If it does, I’m kicking Andrew Junior, Andrew the Third, and Andrew the Fourth,” I declare, snorting and laughing.

“Andrew Junior, Andrew the Third, and Andrew the Fourth? Who are they?” 

“Goddammit, Lucas. I’m going to kill you when I see you,” I mutter as images of Lucas’s ridiculous ‘family’ pop into my head.

“Lucas? I’m Andrew, Emily,” Andrew retorts.

“I know, duh.” I flick my hand in a dismissive gesture, unfazed.

Note to self—blame Lucas for ruining my life.

Andrew and I rejoin Jess, Pedro, and the rest of the group, and before I know it, I’m roasting marshmallows over the fire pit while chatting with them.

Drama and confrontations with my past aside, this party isn’t so bad after all.

* * *