Jane
“Ready to party, Dawson?”
Austin’s voice was a lazy drawl, smug as anything, and I wanted to punch him. I also wanted to run. I stared at him like he’d suggested I strip naked and dance on the beer pong table. He just lifted an eyebrow, like he was daring me to bolt.
The house was vibrating with bass, music so loud it rattled the windows. People spilled out onto the porch and lawn, red plastic cups in hand. Laughter rose in waves, punctuated by shouts from the pool area. It was the kind of party I’d always avoided in high school. And now? There were too many chances to slip up and reveal everything I’d worked to hide.
I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry. But Austin just stood there, hands in his pockets, and that stupid half-grin on his face. Acting like he hadn’t just dragged me
