She shrugs. “It’s more of a pipe dream right now.”

“Hey, at least you’re dreaming.”

She turns and studies me. “What about you, football star? Is that all you ever wanted to be?”

I nod. “Yeah, I guess I had a talent for it and just went with it. Cliché as it is. My dad owns a chain of clubs that he always wanted me to take over, but that shit just isn’t what I want.”

She nods, as if understanding. “I get that.”

We both fall silent, and I glance at her to see her staring out the window again. Fuck she’s beautiful, in the most innocent, geeky, fresh kind of way.

“Are you going to the bonfire tonight?”

She shakes her head. “No, that isn’t really my thing.”

“Have you ever been to one?”

She falls silent.

I guess that’s a no.

“Then how do you know it isn’t your thing?” I prompt.

“I don’t know. The idea of drunk people having sex and throwing up doesn’t sound all that fun.”

I laugh. “It’s not like that.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Surely you’ve got friends that are going.”

“My best friend has been begging me to go,” she admits.

“You should.”

Her cheeks go pink again. “Maybe,” she mumbles.

“Let me know if you want to. I’ll come by and give you a ride.”

She jerks and looks over to me with big eyes. “Why?”

I grin and focus on the road. “I’m taking everyone. I don’t drink.”

Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “You don’t drink?”

“You sound surprised by that?”

“Well . . .” She hesitates. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“It’s not that I have a problem, I just hate the feeling of being drunk and out of control.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Anyway,” I say, pulling up at a small apartment building that my GPS just alerted me is hers. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in. You can text me if you want a ride.”

She stares at me a while, then sighs and pulls out her phone. I punch my number in, and then hand it back to her. She looks nervous, and fidgety as I lean over her and push the door open. “Blue Belle?” I say, my face close to hers.

“Ah, yeah?”

“It’s just a ride—I won’t bite.”

She studies my face, then nods, climbs out and closes the door.

She doesn’t look back.

She doesn’t call me to give her a ride to the bonfire, and when I arrive she isn’t there. The strange disappointed sensation in my chest is odd, and something I’m not used to feeling, but I push it aside and sit by the fire with my football buddies and Demi, who is well on her way to being drunk.

“Saw you with that redhead chick today,” Reese says.

“Belle?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I don’t know her name, dude, just saw you talking to her.”

“Who were you talking to?” Demi demands, crossing her arms and swaying a little.

I scowl at Reese, and then turn to her. “I helped a girl who had a broken car. Nothing to pitch a fit about, Dem.”

“Did you give her a ride home?” she asks, studying my face.

“Yeah.”

Her cheeks grow red with jealousy and I choose to ignore it, turning back to Reese. “Nice one, bro.”

“Sorry,” he says, glaring at Demi. “Didn’t know Queen Bitch would take it to heart.”

I shrug and watch as all the red Solo cups are passed around. I wave a hand when one is pushed my way. Reese takes mine, grinning big as he holds the two full cups in his hand. He’s smiling like a kid on Christmas, like the very idea that he has two beers makes everything that much better than one.

“You should have one, dude. Might lighten you up.”

I flip him the bird. I’m in a sour mood tonight, and I can’t shake it. I’m disappointed Belle isn’t here and I have lost my mojo. I just can’t handle drunken fucking idiots tonight. “I’m going for a walk.”

Demi mumbles something but I ignore her and walk off into the darkness. These events are usually my thing, but tonight I’m not even close to feeling it. That probably makes me a pussy—I’m okay with that. I walk farther down the beach until I see a lone figure sitting on a rock, staring out at the ocean. As I get closer, I realize it’s Belle.

She came.

Something squeezes in my chest as I move closer until I can see her face in the moonlight. She’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a loose black tee that falls down around her ass. She’s got on a pair of black boots and her hair is out, flapping about in the breeze, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She doesn’t even hear me approach.

“You came.”

She jerks and whips her head around, then sighs with relief. “You have to stop sneaking up on me.”

I smile and flop down onto the rock beside her. “You know the purpose of a party is to actually join in?”

She frowns. “My friend convinced me to come, or more to the point, to drive her home, but I’m not really into it. It’s much nicer down here.”

I nod in agreement. “You’re right about that.”

“What about you, captain popular? I wouldn’t imagine you’re the type to walk off down the beach alone?”

I snort. “My girl is being difficult and my buddy is drunk. It’s not exactly fun.”

She goes silent.

I look over to her and she’s staring back out at the ocean.

“You have a boyfriend, Blue Belle?”

She looks at me again. “Why do you call me that?”

I study her face, focusing on her blue eyes. The eyes that I can’t seem to shake from my thoughts. “Because you’ve got the most intense blue eyes I’ve ever seen, and your name is Belle. It makes sense, right?”

She smiles. Fucking beautiful.

“I guess it does.”

“Now, back to the question . . . do you have a boyfriend?”

She scoffs. “Gosh no.”

“No?”

“No.” She smiles down at her hands.

“How come?”

She crosses her legs, fidgets, then uncrosses them. “I just haven’t met anyone.”

“A beautiful girl like you?”

She frowns at me. “Are you trying to charm me, Max? Because last time I checked you had a girlfriend.”

I throw my hands up, grinning. “I’m just telling the truth, Blue Belle. I didn’t realize you had difficulties accepting compliments.”

She sighs. “I don’t, it’s just . . . Why are you talking to me?”

“Because I want to.”

She pouts. “That’s it?”

“Does it truly need to be anything more? I might be a jock, and a player and all the things you’re thinking, but I’m not an asshole. I can have real conversations with people, you know?”

She flushes with embarrassment, as if the idea of offending me upsets her. “I know, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just no one ever really talks to me. I’m so used to being invisible.”