Not surprising since we were both trashed and didn’t exchange names. The moment I arrived at Waylon, I set those guidelines in place to keep my heart safe, and I only broke the kissing rule once, but that was way back in freshman year, and I don’t think Blaze even remembers that night at the toga party. The truth is, sex for me is a carefully thought-out plan with the right guy selected. She might have hooked up with one of them if they agreed to her rules: no kissing on the lips and no sleeping over. She might have teased them for their matching shirts or enjoyed a long conversation about the intellectual benefits of chess on the brain. She was outgoing and always ready to party, but she hasn’t reared up yet. They check me out with a bit of fascinated wariness, and I almost claw and purr at them, but my heart isn’t invested. Digging up resolve, I flash a big pretend smile. He’s chatting with some of his nerd friends, and I say that because out of the four guys, three wear identical Regional Chess Champions shirts. While blotting my dress with napkins Margo pushed into my hands, I take in our group and see Connor Dimpleshitz, Margo’s man.
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