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back and up at me, choking down her amusement. “Um, yes, okay. Nice to meet you both.”
    I hold the front door open and she brushes past me, the slight hint of some wonderful scent I could never name teasing my nose.
    “Red. It’s my favorite.”
    “Wh—”
    “You sniff pretty loud,” she teases. “My body spray is called Red. Do you like it?”
    I gulp pretty loud too, ‘cause I hear it myself. “Sorry. Sniffing you probably seems kinda weird.” I run a hand over my head and shrug. “But yeah, I like it a lot.”
    “Thank you. Me too. I’ll see you Sunday.”
    “See you Sunday, Emmett.”

    T wo days down, two to go until I get to be alone with Emmett Young. It’s all I can think about and I’m proud to admit that I feel like an utterly brand new version of myself. I’ve never looked forward to anything more in my life.
    I kinda feel bad, kinda, for every time I gave Dane or Tate or Evan shit about being pussy whipped, thinking they needed to grow a pair. I’m starting to understand a completely foreign word…anticipation.
    “What are you smiling about?”
    Damn sure not you.
    “Hey?” I look behind the girl who spoke, wracking my brain as much for her name as to how the hell she got in. “Mariah, what’re you doing here?”
    It can’t be more than six o’clock and we’re clearly not open, so why is she standing across my bar? Oh, and then there’s the whole how the fuck did she know I work here thing, but I snort aloud as soon as I think it—chick wants to find ya, she will.
    “That other guy let me in. I told him it was really important.” She smirks and I grumble, noting to have a talk with Kasey. “Soo,” she props her elbows on the bar top and pushes up on her feet, “I wanted to invite you to my birthday party tomorrow!”
    My mouth is open, “now why in the fuck would I—” on the tip of my tongue when a flash of brilliance snags me. Mariah is friends with Emmett.
    “Your birthday, huh?” I say. “You having a big blowout with all your friends?”
    “Of course!” Her lashes bat feverishly, body leaning closer. “It’ll be so much fun. Will you please come?”
    No, but I will attend, for the chance to see Emmett. Or is that a bad idea? Will she think I’m there for Blowjob Betty? I could explain I’m not… Jesus, I am so bad at this. I have no idea what to do or not to do—my only known territory is nut and bolt. I’ll feel my way through it to spend some time with Emmett, though. She’s worth it.
    Could I sound more like Evan “Romeo” Allen? Fuck.
    “Yeah, I could probably swing by. I’ve got a friend I could bring too.” I concentrate on the rag in my hand, wiping the bar aloofly. “What about your friend from the race? She gonna be there? He’d probably like her.”
    “Emmett?” She laughs viciously. “Probably, I invited her. But they’ll be plenty of other girls there for him to choose from. Fun girls.”
    Sad, really; she can’t possibly buy that—that it’s more fun to fuck a stranger and be forgotten than to be the one girl who’s sought out for so much more than what any girl could give.
    I gotta write that shit down! My mind never thinks that profoundly and might never do so again.
    “Yeah, okay.” I slide her a napkin and dig around under the bar for a pen. “Write down the address and I’ll see what I can do. But then I have to get back to work.”
    As in amscray, oozieflay.

    M usic is blaring, drunks are all over the yard and in the street, and this house is packed sardine tight. No way a neighbor’s not gonna call the cops soon. I’m figuring I’ve got an hour, tops, before this shit show gets busted. I’ve got to find Emmett fast.
    I scramble through the droves of bodies, only pausing on dark heads of hair to scan the faces attached. No luck in the front, so I find the kitchen and stand in the farthest corner of it. This spot offers me a straight view of the only two doors into this place: front and sliding glass to the