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“Absolutely,” I replied. “You should come.”

Christy made an awkward little chuckle and promised she’d go next time.

As soon as she left, Bridget looked at me. “Poor thing. We’ll have to help her come out of that shell.”

I was about to say how me helping anyone was ridiculous, but I squashed that little self-deprecating thought. “Sure. Just as soon as I’m done helping you.”

She laughed. “If I became any more extraverted, I’d explode.”

I could tell that Bridget was going to be a good influence.

“All right.” She clapped her hands. “Time to get ready. Our destinies await!”

Oh God. I hope so.

~ ~ ~

10:00 p.m. Kappa House

Though we’d scored a spot the next street over, parking was impossible. Cars piled up for ten blocks, with fifty more circling the neighborhood. And now, approaching the giant beach house, bursting with students, couples hooking up, and a multitude of dudes pounding beer on the enormous porch, I felt my pulse thump away at an unhealthy pace. “Are you sure we’re invited?” I asked.

Bridget laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

I’d never been to a party-party, unless I counted the time Mandy’s mother threw a champagne fund-raiser. I didn’t drink, but I did get pretty wild with the karaoke.

“And we’re not too late?” I asked.

“You’re joking. Right? It’s just getting started. My sister was a Tri Delta, and let me tell you, the parties she took me to last year never got going until midnight.” I’d learned that Bridget grew up in L.A., but spent most weekends with her sister—a very recent UCSD grad—at the sorority house. Like me, Bridget had a working mother and absentee father, but a very cheery, pragmatic outlook on life.

I nodded. “Good to know.”

Bridget stopped and leaned in, squinting in the dark. “Are you okay, Dakota? You look…kind of pale.”

Welcome to Dakota-land. No tans. Only varying degrees of paleness. “I’m fine.”

“Well, setting aside your terrified expression, you look hot. Hotter than hot. I’d give my right arm for that silky red hair. By the way, are those real? Not that I want to pry, but they’re huge.”

I glanced down at my chest. “Well, yeah. But they aren’t that big.”

She crinkled her brow. “Yeah. Whatever, Ms. Double D.” She snorted. “Get it? Dakota Dane? DD?”

“Cute.” I laughed politely, but what was all the fuss? They looked like normal Cs to me. Perhaps it was my strapless black blouse? A gift from Mandy. I hadn’t really felt like unpacking yet, and it had been on the top of the pile inside my suitcase, as were my jeans. Add my favorite strappy, silver, platform sandals, and this was just about as good as it got in my fashion world. God, I missed Mandy already. Sadly, she was in New York enjoying the Manhattan life without me.

I followed Bridget up the crowded steps into the large, two-story house. It was what one might expect a well-financed frat house to look like: big wraparound porch, white. Other than the loud music and Greek shit hanging in the windows, it was picture-perfect.

I passed the threshold and gazed in wonder at the lively scene—laughter, dancing, drinking. It was exactly as I’d hoped my first college party would be, except…

My eyes immediately gravitated toward a familiar face in the crowd, and I instantly knew nothing would ever be right in my life again. Not for me. Not now. Not ever.

My dream of moving on would not be fulfilled.

“Santiago?”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Santiago stepped from the crowd wearing a navy-blue blazer, red tie, and tan pants, just like the other fraternity brothers who greeted guests—well, greeted girls mainly. With his messy, chin-length, almost-black hair, broad shoulders, and stubbled, angular jaw, I had to blink several times. Was he really there? This version looked older, more masculine, and more beautiful than before.

I stepped back, counter to the flow of the masses pouring inside.

“Don’t be nervous,” Bridget whispered, pulling my hand. “I know plenty of the sorority sisters who’ll be here.”

Santiago’s feral gaze pierced through the crowd like a wolf that’d just spotted a juicy rabbit. I watched helplessly as he wove through the densely packed bodies.

This can’t be happening. “Bridget, I left something in the car.”

“It’s not safe to walk alone…” Her voice trailed off as I bolted for my car.

I would call her later and pick her up. Or something. I didn’t know. I just needed to get the hell out of there.

I glanced over my shoulder, but there wasn’t anyone other than a few people walking into the party.

“Shit, shit, shit. This can’t be happening.” I got to my car, my hands trembling wildly as I dug for the keys in my purse. “Why me? Stupid Dakota. Stupid. You’re going to ruin everything.” He can’t be real. He can’t be.

Found ’em.

I slid inside the car, and my cell rang at the exact moment I started the engine. It was Bridget. “Hello?”


Tags: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Romance