After a quick clean up, August and I made our way to the club, fashionably late.

Loud music assaulted my ears the moment I stepped through the club doors. A blast of warm air from sweaty body heat hit my face. Strobe lights blinded me. I blinked as my eyes adjusted.

The place was packed with people drinking, chatting, and dancing — or to be more accurate, grinding and groping each other.

Someone jostled me as I stood in the entrance. I stumbled forward, nearly hitting a tall woman in front of me. August caught me before I could cause a domino effect. He wrapped his arm around me, keeping others from bumping into me.

"How are we going to find anyone?" I shouted in his ear.

"Look up."

Following his finger, I saw a crowd of people in what looked to be a private room overlooking the dance floor, many of whom had brightly colored hair and alternative hairstyles.

Squeezing through the throng of bodies, avoiding feet and elbows, we ascended the stairs to the second floor and made our way to the lounge.

The party had started without us. No one thought to ask where we'd been.

I recognized some members of the opening band, but most of the people were strangers. Cameron and Damon were laughing with them and slapping them on the back. They could have been old friends, or they could have been random people they'd invited up from the dance floor.

"Cameron does love a party," August said.

I spotted Hope waving to us from across the room. She and Ian had situated themselves in a corner with some leather seating. They sat so close to one another she could have been sitting in his lap.

I didn't want to intrude on their privacy, since they no doubt wanted some alone time, but August saw her waving and guided me over. He kept his arm around my waist even as we approached.

I hoped Ian would take the flush of my cheeks as just from the heat of the club. August could have had his arm around me for a number of reasons. To keep me from tripping in my heels, to keep us from getting separated in the crowd.

I hoped he didn't read too much into it. When August and I told the guys, I didn't want it to be in a loud, busy club full of strangers. What if Ian disapproved and got upset? I didn't want an audience for that.

Because I wanted their approval, and badly, but I wasn't sure I'd get it. Not if they were still mad that I'd kept part of August's secret from them.

Nervously, I took a seat across from the pair. August sat beside me, sharing a love seat. That wasn't too suspicious, was it?

"Did your cab get lost?" Hope asked innocently, although I detected a mischievous glint in her eyes. "It took you a while to get here."

"Cameron sucks at directions," was all August said.

I waited for her to say something about my messy hair — it was thoroughly disheveled thanks to August — but she didn't.

"I forgot to say earlier, it's good to see you looking so well," Hope told August. "You should take better care of yourself. Don't work yourself into exhaustion."

So Ian had lied to Hope about what really happened. I supposed it was for August's sake. He wouldn't want the truth getting around.

"The guys have been keeping a close eye on me," August replied wryly. "Making sure I don't overdo it."

"I hope they aren't giving you too much trouble."

"No more than usual."

This whole time Ian had been studiously avoiding my gaze, paying attention to Hope and August only. I supposed he really was still upset with me.

Hope took notice, glancing between me and her boyfriend, a frown on her face as she sensed the tension between us.

Before she could comment, Damon appeared at her side.

"I'm getting myself another drink," he said. "Anyone want anything? Cassie? Hope?"

Ian and Hope both look startled, no doubt because he'd included Hope in the offer without a grimace.

"Maybe another rum and Coke?" Hope gave him an almost relieved smile.

"I'll come get a drink with you," I told Damon. "August, what can I get you?"

He removed his arm from around my waist reluctantly. "A beer is fine."

"Aren't you sick of us carrying your drunk ass home?" Damon smirked and nodded to August. "This guy's a total lightweight. Gets pissed after two beers."

"Like you can talk," August retorted. "How many times have you puked your guts out in the cab ride home?"

"Too many to count," Damon said with a cheeky grin.

I followed Damon to the busy first floor bar. As we waited for the bartender to notice us, I stared at Damon, a small smile playing on my lips.

"What?" He leaned against the bar casually. "You're staring."

"I think Hope and Ian are really happy with what you're doing."

"Getting her a drink?"

"Being nice."

"Yeah, well…" His shoulders slumped. "I guess I've been thinking about what you said. I don't want to make my brother feel like he has to choose. That was a dick move on my part."

"I'm sure Ian understands why you were jealous. But he seems to really appreciate it."

"And I really appreciate what you're doing for August."

A wave of panic hit me. Did Damon know?

"The rest of us guys are so used to being the ones to follow August. He's always been the leader. It's good for him to have someone who can call him on his shit."

"I don't know how well I'm doing with that last part. But I want to help him."

"I still can't believe none of us noticed." Damon ran his hand over his face. "We've all been so caught up in our own shit."

"I didn't figure it out until the end, either."

"I'm glad you're here. And even though you told everyone his secret, I know August is glad, too."

The bartender took Damon's drink order, preventing me from having to respond. He turned back, expression worried, somber.

"Do you really think it's going to be this easy?" he asked. "August said he only took stuff once in a while. It's not like he's going through withdrawal, right? Maybe everything really will be okay."

Damon looked torn between hope and doubt. I was sure the expression was reflected on my own face.

When Damon and I returned to the lounge with drinks in hand, one of the members of the opening band, Cherry Lips, had descended upon August.

"Wouldn't it be freaking awesome, though?" he asked.

I recognized him as Seth, the drummer. The guys all called him kid, but he probably wasn't any younger than them.

"What would be awesome?" Damon asked.

"A drum-off!" Seth declared. "Me and August, man against man, may the best person win, et cetera."

"Sure," August said. "I'm in."

"You sure you're up to this?" Ian asked. "You're supposed to be taking it easy."

"I'll be fine. We'll just replace one of our encores with the drum-off. I won't be playing for any longer than normal."

Ian and Damon exchanged worried glances. I knew they wanted to talk August out of it, but it would be a waste of breath. August had been challenged. He was too stubborn to back down.

We all sipped on our drinks as August and Seth hashed out the details. Hope and I chatted. She wanted to know more about my photography. I wanted to know more about her job working at Darkest Days' record label.

That was how she'd met Ian. She was one of the only people who could tell the twins apart, back when they were still pretending to be each other.

"I fell for her immediately," Ian said, a soft smile on his face.

"Of course, it wasn't that easy," Hope laughed.

I snuck a glance at August.

"It never is."

Cameron jumped behind Ian and Hope, throwing his arms around their shoulders and popping his face in between theirs.

"Who's up for a game of Strip Go Fish?" he grinned madly.

I blinked.

"Strip… Go Fish?"

Ian groaned.

"Don't even ask. Cam's a pervert with the maturity of a five year old."

August stood and reached a hand out to me.

"Cassie and I were just about to hit the dance floor."

"We were?" I asked, surprised, but I took his hand anyway.

With his arm firmly back around my waist, I let him lead me down the stairs to the first floor.

"I don't really want to dance," he said as we wove through the crowd. "I just wasn't in the mood for Cameron's games." He eyed me, lingering on my chest and legs. "The only one who gets to take that dress off is me."

"Are you jealous?" I teased.

"Maybe." His eyes glinted.

Too much jealousy could be a red flag, but the thought that August wanted to keep me for himself sent a wave of giddiness through me. I couldn't suppress my wide smile.

"So if we're not going to dance, where are we going?"

"I saw private booths at the back."

August was right, there were several circular booths beside the bar. They were already taken. August approached one couple. I couldn't hear what he said, but a few words and a discrete exchange of dollar bills had them vacating it in a hurry, leaving their drink glasses behind.

August gestured for me to slide in first.

"You didn't have to do that," I said. "We could have just taken a normal table."

"I like privacy," was all he said.

Although the table could have fit six or eight people easily, August pressed himself right next to me. He placed one hand on my bare thigh. My stomach clenched at the feel of those calloused fingers against my soft skin.

His thumb stroked my inner thigh, back and forth slowly, teasing.

"Is this why you wanted privacy?" I murmured quietly. "So you could feel me up?"

He leaned into me. I shivered as his lips brushed my ear, curving into a smile.

"Is that immediately where your mind went?"

"You're the one with his hand on my leg."

"Do you object?"

My breath hitched as his thumb stroked higher, sneaking under the hemline of my dress.

"No."

I glanced around, but no one was looking our way. His hand was hidden by the high table.

He pressed one thumb against my clit. I gasped.

"I wanted to thank you," he said.

"And thanking me involves fingering me in public?" I said, near breathless.

He chuckled.

"I wanted to thank you for sticking by me. I know I can be stubborn. Intense. Demanding."

"That's not all you are."

"No? What else am I?"

One finger traced a line between the valley of my thighs. I groaned.

"You're thoughtful."

He teased at the elastic of my panties. I shuddered, anticipating.

"You're patient with me."

He pressed a kiss behind my ear, along my jawline.

"Even when you're being pushy, you make sure I'm comfortable with everything we do."

With a deft motion, he slipped underneath my panties. His fingertip teased between my lower lips. I shivered, clenching down around nothing, feeling empty.

"I never want you to feel rushed into anything," he said.

"I don't."

Slowly, inch by inch, his finger slipped into me, my wetness allowing him to glide in easily. I tensed and melted at the same time, falling against the back of the booth while my thighs and belly tightened.

Loud, familiar laughter sounded a few feet away. Cameron's voice at the bar. I froze. August kept his finger inside me, pushing in and out slowly.

"He won't see us," August said, confident and reassuring.

"What if he does?" My voice was unsteady, both from the pleasure spiking through me and nerves at being caught.

"Would that be a bad thing?"

"When we tell the guys, it's not going to be like this!" I said shakily.

"Do you want me to tell them?"

My insides quivered around his fingers.

"I'll do it right now if you want," he continued. "I'll tell the entire world about us."

"No," I breathed. "Don't."

He pulled his fingers out, circling and teasing again, before pushing back in. I inhaled a quick gasp of air. I fought to continue speaking.

"I like having something… that's just between us. Besides… I don't want to deal with Cameron teasing the hell out of me."

"I figured."

He pushed in even deeper, his whole hand between my legs. I moaned.

"You always know what I'm feeling," I said, my voice weak.

"It's not hard to tell. You're easy to read. Like right now. I know exactly what you want."

He slipped a second finger inside. I let out a choked sound, closing my eyes as my head thudded back against the booth.

"Was I right?" he asked, wickedly amused.

I groaned quietly.

"And what about this?" he said.

He scissored his fingers, spreading me, widening me. My eyes flew open with a gasp as he twisted his wrist. My insides felt like they were on fire, burning up in the most pleasurable of ways. It sent my head spinning.

"Are you close?"

His thumb just barely brushed my clit. I nodded desperately, wordlessly.

"Good."

He moved his thumb away. I whined, disappointed and needy. He continued pumping in and out of me, faster and faster. My breathing was rapid, taking in quick gasps of air. I thought I would pass out, the pleasure was becoming too much.

"Come for me," he demanded.

He pressed a thumb against my clit. I exploded, biting my lip to swallow down a shriek. My entire body shook, my thighs squeezing his wrist so tight it must have hurt. He worked me through it, never ceasing his torturous onslaught, his fingers still moving inside me.

Finally, I came back to my senses. I slumped against the booth, breathing heavily. He slowly removed his fingers, a rough drag against my insides, sending a few last aftershocks shuddering through me.

He tugged my dress back into place. I pressed my hands flat onto the surface of the table, catching my breath.

"I meant what I said," he told me.

I looked to him, questioning, still unable to speak. He tilted my head up with gentle fingers and placed a quick kiss on my lips. His eyes stared into mine, clear and bright.

"I never want you to feel rushed into anything." he said softly.

My heart clenched in my chest at his sweet words.

"I don't," I said honestly, breathlessly. "I feel comfortable with you. Things feel right."

As soon as I said the words, I knew they were true.

Nothing in my life had ever felt as right as being with August.

I just hoped he felt the same.