The party was already gaining steam when I headed downstairs. Ava and our other roommates, Jen and Emily, had handled the first wave of incomings while I changed into a short black skirt and strappy tank and added some makeup. I left my hair, which was shoulder length and red, to do its thing. It was probably my best feature. My eyes were an unremarkable gray that picked up shades of green when I was agitated or trying to hold something in. Which seemed like most of the time lately.

Looking in the mirror I decided Ava was right. I looked pretty good considering my recent and unplanned singledom.

Birthday-girl-worthy? Maybe not. But the party had been sprung on me, so I didn’t have much choice. I took a deep breath and steeled myself to make the rounds. I would smile, laugh, and show everyone I was doing just fine, thank you very much. With luck the crowd would die down early, or maybe move to the bar down the street. I might even get a chance to work on my study schedule for the fall semester of senior year. The one that started Monday.

A few dozen faces, some familiar and some not, greeted me as I descended the stairs to the open-concept living and dining area that took up most of the first floor. The town house we shared was just off campus of our state college in San Diego. A newer model, it had hardwood, granite and stainless steel, and didn’t reek of pot. The last reason alone made it a big step up from the typical local student digs.

“Happy birthday, Lex!” I was hit with waves of smiles and hugs, some wanted and some tolerated. Though it was nice to see familiar faces, the dull ache in my chest and the occasional sympathetic glance reminded me that many were mutual friends of Jake’s and mine. I’d gotten Ava and our roommates in the breakup at the start of the summer. It wasn’t clear where the others fell.

A couple of guys I knew from class were sending me glances of a different kind. I pointedly ignored them, made small talk with everyone I knew, and tried not to think about how many fire code violations we were committing.

The compulsive part of my brain started to kick into overdrive. At one point I had to force myself to stop counting the number of people with my peripheral vision. We weren’t equipped for this much party.

As I glanced across the room I spotted Jake Marsden. Shit. Every muscle in my body tightened. He was laughing with a circle of guys and girls. This was the danger of having common friends. Ava wouldn’t have invited him, but Jake showing up probably couldn’t have been avoided. This may have started as a birthday party, but I’m pretty sure it was advertised as “little-b” birthday and “big-p” Party.

It was the first I’d seen him in three months and I had to admit Jake looked good. His short, dirty-blond hair still suited him perfectly—the topping on the rest of his great body, earned from playing football at a school that worshipped sports and expected a lot from its heroes. He was several inches taller than my five-five and towered over most of the partygoers who weren’t varsity athletes.

Jake and I started dating four years ago in senior year of high school. Jake was that “first crush” guy: the one that makes your head spin and all the other girls send jealous looks because he smiled at you. Jake had transferred from another school and instantly fit in. We’d been close ever since, even through junior year of college when I’d been taking business and he’d gone into pre-med. He’d even seemed supportive of my dream to start my own label. We never fought. In a way he was the perfect boyfriend: doting without being overbearing.

In May I’d won a coveted summer internship in New York with the advertising and accounts group of a major lifestyle magazine. I could still remember Jake’s voice down the line when I’d called to tell him. That’s great, Lex. The pause, then, Listen … you going to New York is a good thing. I’ve been thinking lately that we’re going in different directions, you know?

That was the problem. I didn’t know. I couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d declared that he was actually gay and had decided to run away to become a backup dancer for Lady Gaga. I didn’t like surprises. Especially ones like that.

Sure, his dad’s practice was in LA and I would more than likely move to New York when school was done. But that didn’t absolve him of anything. Bottom line: Jake Marsden’s face should appear in the Guinness Book of World Records next to Worst Phone Breakup in History.

Part of me never quite understood why he’d picked me in the first place. Jake could have had any girl in school. I always had lots of friends but was never the center of attention. I was a little too quiet, too studious, too repressed to be an “it” girl. But we’d met at a beach party at the beginning of senior year and somehow clicked. I was flattered, and he’d been charming and sweet. Right up until he’d dumped me out of the blue.

I’d had two other boyfriends before Jake. But at twenty-one years old today, an almost four-year relationship was kind of a big deal. Effectively nineteen percent of my life had been spent holding hands, making out, and fused at various bodily junctures to Jake Marsden.

I watched him laugh at something one of his friends had said. It looked like the breakup wasn’t weighing too much on his mind. It still bothered me a little. Trying to find myself again post-Jake was harder than I’d expected. Heading back to school, without my internship to occupy me, some of the earlier feelings came flooding back. Even though I didn’t want to be with him anymore, I hadn’t healed enough to want him in my face. Or in my house.

I looked around for a distraction. My eyes widened when they landed on our kitchen table. Sitting in the center was a round purple cake made to look tufted with the help of fondant and pearls. An impressive collection of mini-kegs, bottles, and cans surrounded the cake, making it look like a tiny violet island adrift in a sea of impending bad decisions.

My analytic brain did a quick tally and decided we’d amassed roughly enough liquor to sink a war vessel. I made a mental note to murder Ava for throwing this impromptu party, and letting me know about it ten minutes after I got home from New York and an hour before it was set to start. I generally preferred “party lite.” Or even “no party at all.”

Glancing back at Jake, my chest tightened a little. I did a quick analysis in my head of the possible ways tonight would play out. I needed to get my brain off my ex, out of OCD mode, and onto something else.

Desperate times. I reached for the hard stuff. Alright, Captain Morgan. Permission to come aboard.

Two mixed drinks and a shot later, I was starting to relax. I opted for catching up with my roommate Jen and her boyfriend, Jace. Jen told me she met Justin Timberlake while running a half marathon this summer. Only in California did these things happen. Jen was in design like Ava and had met Jace last year playing rec sports. Jen was one of those athletic girls who could turn around and throw on a dress and heels and look instantly glam. Together, they were one of those super cute couples that made you want to vomit.

Speaking of vomit … nope, false alarm. I had always been a lightweight but thankfully not a total pushover. I never got drunk enough to get into any real trouble. I did have to pee though.

I excused myself and went in search of the little-known bathroom under the basement stairs. This was one of the perks of partying in your own house. I prayed no one else had discovered it, or if they had, that they’d left it in the same condition in which they’d found it.

Winding my way through the crowd and rounding the corner, I collided with a tall form coming from the other direction. Big hands reached out to my shoulders to steady me as I stumbled backward.

I had to tilt my chin up to meet a pair of startled brown eyes. Eyes I hadn’t really seen in more than two years, since they had locked with mine across a dark patio.

“Lex?” Dylan Cameron’s gaze warmed slightly as recognition set in. “I didn’t see you there.”

We’d crossed paths over the last two years at the Cameron house but never had more than a five-word exchange in passing. Still, though I was sure I’d seen Ava’s little brother, I couldn’t place the guy in front of me. He was taller. He’d filled out, too, his red polo displaying muscles I definitely hadn’t noticed. Otherwise Dylan seemed as coolly untouchable as ever.

“I almost didn’t recognize you.” It was true. Two grades’ difference, though only fourteen months in age, was an eternity in high school. Of course we’d played together as kids, since Ava and her three siblings spanned only six years. But in high school everyone had drifted apart.

“Yeah, I’m all grown up now,” he drawled. “Just transferred here. One year on the East Coast was enough for me. Probably for them too.” Dylan grinned. “I start classes next week. The civil engineering program’s the best in the state. I’m fulfilling the Cameron complement of gender stereotypes. Ava sews, I build.”

After the two eldest Cameron siblings graduated, there’d always been a bit of friction between Ava and Dylan. Ava joked once that it was because her parents liked her better. While the Camerons had always seemed to me to be great parents, they definitely indulged her.

Dylan and his sister weren’t entirely different. Both had been effortlessly popular. But Dylan had somehow fallen off the map. At least, I hadn’t heard any more rumors of the kind that would have had my mother sending me promptly to boarding school if I’d been involved.

It surprised me that he was in engineering given his proclivities for partying. As far as I knew it was a pretty demanding major. “Well, consider me dazzled by your scholastic aptitude.”

My comment elicited a slow grin. It looked like it was designed to make teenage girls lose their undergarments. Mercifully I was unaffected. OK, almost unaffected.

I had to tilt my head back for my eyes to connect with his. It gave me an excuse to really look at him for the first time in years. Why was it that the good-looking people got all the assets? I should write a letter of complaint to the universe, just as a matter of principle.

The Camerons were a good-looking bunch, but Dylan was borne of the deepest end of the gene pool. He would’ve looked right at home on any movie or TV set. Though on second thought, I didn’t know where he would fit. He was too pretty to play the bad boy, his jaw too perfect, long dark lashes framing chocolate eyes, and a sculpted mouth. But he was too edgy to play the male lead. He had that messy-on-purpose hair that looked like some co-ed had been running her fingers through it. He didn’t look like he’d shaven today either.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” he said, bringing my thoughts back to our conversation. “How was your summer? Ava said you spent it partying in Miami or something?” Dylan seemed strangely intent on making small talk. But since ninety percent of the other partiers knew me or Jake, and most of those had chosen sides or had some kind of sub-agenda, Dylan Cameron was one of the most appealing conversationalists available.

“New York, actually,” I corrected. “And more ‘or something’ than partying. I was interning at a magazine.”

“Ahhh, yeah my geography was always shit. I was close though.”

“Yes. Very close.” I nodded patronizingly. Waited. “New York’s the one with the park. And the statue.” I did my best torch-hoisting impression. Alcohol seemed to melt the filter that came between the thoughts in my head and the words emerging from my mouth.

Dylan seemed entertained by it, his dark eyes focusing on mine and the corner of his mouth twitching. “Alright, smart girl. Miami doesn’t have parks or statues?”

“Nothing near eight hundred and forty-three acres or three hundred and five feet tall.” I parroted it automatically. I had a brain for random facts. It was a gift and a curse.

“Noted.” Dylan shook his head and a full-fledged smile graced his mouth. I did a double take. The smile did great things for him. Not that he needed the help.

“The internship sounds cool,” he commented, pushing aside a chunk of dark hair that had fallen into his face in a familiar way that said he did it often. His deep brown eyes bored into mine. He was one of those guys whose intensity made you feel like you were the center of their entire world. He could’ve been thinking “I know all your darkest secrets” or “I could go for some spaghetti” and I wouldn’t have known the difference when his eyes were on me like that.

“The gig was great. I was one of the best interns ever to grace Manhattan publishing. After three months’ practice, I could run a Starbucks order for a department of twenty from memory.” It was one of the hazing rituals in publishing, but one I’d aced nonetheless.

“I don’t believe you. I mean, I do, but they’d have to be idiots to have a girl like you running coffee all day. What else did you do?”

He seemed genuinely interested, though I hadn’t the slightest idea why. My grateful brain clicked out of party mode for the time being. “Actually, I got to assist on some major accounts and a campaign. It was way closer to real stuff than I thought I’d be doing.”

He scratched his head. “You and Ava are still planning on that business thing, right? The connections must be pretty important.”

The fact that he remembered at all was unexpected. That he was thinking about what my internship meant for us was something else. Apparently he was not just a pretty face.

As if through some kind of sixth sense, I looked to my left and saw Jake heading our way. It didn’t look like he’d seen me, but I was sure he would soon.

“Oh, fuck!” I swore without thinking, and Dylan’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. Most people who knew me better than he did would react the same way. I liked to save swearing for important occasions. Like running into asshole exes for the first time after they’ve broken up with you by phone.

I looked around wildly to find a place to hide. But my bad luck in the Jake department held, and the next thing I knew he was right on top of us.

Jake seemed to notice me only a few strides away. He came up short and looked from me to Dylan and back. I could tell from the tension in his annoyingly still-great body that he didn’t know what kind of reception he was in for.

“Hey, Lex,” Jake said finally, his blue eyes on mine. Uncertainty in them, mixed with a hint of what I hoped was fear. Something else I couldn’t place. “Um … how was your summer? The rest of it, I mean,” he added lamely.

I flashed the biggest smile I could muster under the circumstances, going for full wattage but only partly succeeding. “The best. New York was amazing.” Every bone in my body wanted nothing more than to deflect his eyes, his attention. What now? I felt something like panic rising in my throat.

“Do you know Ava’s little brother, Dylan? He went to high school with us.” It was a shameless punt.

Familiarity dawned and Jake extended a hand. “Hey, man. You play soccer, right?”

“Rugby.” Dylan had resumed what I figured was his default composure, eyes flicking coolly from Jake to me and back. If he knew about our history he didn’t let on. But something told me Dylan wasn’t drawn in by Jake’s easy charm or conversational skills. Regardless of the reason, Dylan Cameron went up another two notches in my view.

“Listen, Jake, it was good to see you.” My voice said it was anything but. I didn’t care that I was being rude, just wanted him out of my face. Talking with Dylan had started to take the edge off. This wasn’t helping.

Jake’s eyes were cloudy, like he was still trying to put together the right words. They clearly weren’t coming to him. After endless seconds he nodded. “You too, Lex. Happy birthday,” he offered before turning and walking off. I realized this was the first birthday in years I’d spent without him.

“Let me guess …” Dylan raised an eyebrow as we watched Jake’s retreating back. “Leading in the polls for Asshole of the Year?”

A smile and a joke in the same night?

“Running uncontested, actually.” My deadpan response elicited a surprised laugh from Dylan. The sound warmed my insides. Dylan’s voice, like his appearance, was familiar and different at once. The sound was deep and too rough to be musical. But I could listen to him talk all night.

“Well, you let me know if you want me to lay him out for you.” Dylan slapped a fist against his other palm. He was joking, but the thing was he probably could. I didn’t remember hearing anything about him getting into trouble for fighting in high school, but looking him over, it occurred to me that my money would be on him.

“Is this service part of the little brother lending library?” I teased. “I don’t have my own, so I get to borrow Ava’s when my reputation is in danger?” I wasn’t used to having my virtue defended, particularly not by an unexpectedly tall, dark, and broody echo of someone from my past. There was something sweet about it. Which was odd, because sweet wasn’t a word I guessed a lot of people used to describe Dylan Cameron.

His brow furrowed slightly and he shook his head as if to clear it. “Forget it.” I wondered what had caused the sudden cloud across his face.

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but his eye was suddenly drawn away by movement behind me. “Ah, this is your house, right? I’m sensing a situation in need of some diplomacy,” he murmured.

Turning to follow his gaze I saw Ava, a five-two pixie with dark hair and stormy eyes, shouting at a tall blond girl in a miniskirt. While I couldn’t hear any substance over the loud music, this looked like it could get ugly fast. I sighed. “Welcome to college. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go stop two girls from ripping each other’s hair out.”

He rewarded me with a genuine smile that nearly knocked me off my feet. “Godspeed.” Yeah, the guy had dimples too. Life wasn’t fair.