“Where are we going?” I allow him to guide me through the front doors and into the night air. Instead of walking toward the valet parking, he tightens his grip on my hand and leads me down the side of the building behind the hedges.

Mack stops and turns around quickly, almost knocking me off balance. Luckily, his hand steadies me before I have a chance to twist an ankle in these heels. I don’t know why I ever let my sister, Chelsea, talk me into wearing them. I’m the kind of girl who practically gets vertigo from a quarter-inch heel on my flats.

I balked at the 6-inch heels she originally campaigned for. “I’m not a stripper! I’ll break my damned neck in those.” I pushed the crushed velvet shoes back into her arms. She wrinkled her nose at me and gave me that look she always gives me when she thinks I’m still acting like a baby. I hate that look. I hate it so much that I’m teetering on 4-inch heels on the lawn of the Colorado golf club, trying not to snap my ankles.

Thoughts of Chelsea’s “helpful" fashion choices flit away as soon as I look into Mack’s crystal blue eyes. Even now, after twelve years of looking into them, I’m unable to look away. That color, it unnerves me and soothes me at the same time. They’re like waves crashing against a Hawaiian beach, if you could only manage to stay on the sand and listen, you’d be captivated by their tranquility. But instead, you find yourself trying to surf them, obsessed with the idea of taming them, knowing full well the danger that lurks beneath.

He leans into me, his frame pressed up hard against mine, and I let out a small sigh. When his soft lips find mine, my eyelids flutter closed. The thudding bass from the dance hall is drowned out by my own heartbeat. When he steps back, it takes me a second to stop making a fishy face at the night air, my lips still desperately trying to kiss a ghost.

My eyes snap open and this time all I can see in Mack’s eyes is lust. I look over my shoulder, we’re barely ten feet away from the front door. These cedar hedges would’ve been an awesome fort hide out when we were kids, but they aren’t doing much to hide us as adults.

“Mack, if you think we’re gonna mess around here … there’s no way.” My voice is a strained whisper.

“Oh come on, Lauren. You think I’m gonna try something here?” He pretends to be offended.

I do, actually.

If I know anything about Mack, and I know a lot, it’s that he would try to have sex with me anywhere.

Any place.

Any time.

God, I thought that I was helping him gain some maturity and restraint when I insisted we wait until my eighteenth. If anything, I think all that waiting turned him into an animal. Not that I’m complaining.

“I just wanted to kiss you. No funny business,” he puts his hands up in surrender. “Jeez, what kind of perv are you anyway? Thinking about getting naked in the bushes? I always knew you were a wild one,” he smirks.

Heat rises in my cheeks and I tilt my head away. I don’t want him to see it written all over my face how much the idea really does excite me.

“Well, what are we doing then?”

“You’ll see.” His eyes twinkle brighter than the stars above us and for just a moment, I wonder if I should go back on my “no-sex-in-the-hedges" policy. He weaves his fingers in mine and steadies me by holding my arm with his other hand as he leads the way around the country club. The light gets dimmer as we sneak around the building to the back until we’re stumbling through the darkness toward a garage.

What the?

“Ok, just wait here a sec. I’ll be less than a minute. I promise.” He stifles my questions with a quick kiss before he quickly jogs over the grass to the shadows.

I squint to watch him approach the garage. Out from the side door pops a young man who Mack clearly knows. They look like old buds, clapping each other’s shoulders and laughing. I watch Mack dig out his wallet and give the guy a couple bills and then his buddy disappears back inside. Is he getting drugs? No, that’s not like Mack. Some booze? More likely, but I don’t know why he’d have to get it back here. There’ll be tons of drinks at the after party.

I watch as Mack waits by the door and listen to the crickets in the distance, punctuating the night air. The serenity is short lived as a grinding noise fills my ears. The large garage door slides up loudly as white light spills out into the darkness. Inside are rows of golf carts lined up like little soldiers.

The guy steers one of the carts out the front door and comes to a jerky stop by my boyfriend. I watch as they shake hands again and then Mack jumps in the cart and drives out over the grass toward me as the garage door slinks back down, keeping his transaction a secret. His cocky smile is pasted in place as he pulls up beside me. I can’t help but return it.

“Hop in,” he pats the empty seat next to him casually. Like he’s not breaking a bunch of laws right now. Like we’re gonna go putt on the green and have a few rounds of golf.

I’m sure there will be a few rounds involved, I’ll even get to practice my long and short stroke.

How can a girl resist?