He leans in close. “You watch it.”

“Or what, Brother?”

His mouth goes tight. “You’re walking a fine fuckin’ line. You have the shits? Fine, but watch what you’re sayin’ about Peyton. Regardless of what you think, she’s a good chick.”

“Oh, I’m sure she is.”

His eyes study my face, then drops his gaze to my lips. “You still make me want to kiss the fuckin’ sass out of you, though.”

“Get lost,” I snap, turning and slipping back onto the dance floor.

I do this so he won’t see the way my cheeks are burning. I can’t believe he’s back, and I certainly can’t believe I’m not going to be able to escape him. I find Melanie and hand her a drink, then we start dancing again. Blade makes his way onto the dance floor and hooks his arm around Peyton’s waist. Then the two practically dry-hump in front of everyone.

“There you are.”

I jerk as arms slide around my waist. Yates. Yes, your boyfriend Yates. I turn to him with a smile and slip my arms up around his waist. I can dry-hump as good as any of them. I start grinding against Yates, whose face turns red. God. He hates when I get affectionate in public and by the way his face is now pinching, it looks as if he’s going to throw me off.

Prissy is about right.

God, what am I doing?

“Dance with me,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“Do you have to be so provocative?”

I snort loudly. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Leave something to the imagination.”

I shake my head and turn away from him, then I begin dancing with another guy standing next to me. He doesn’t touch me, but our bodies come close. Before I get the chance to even get his name, Yates swings me around and drags me off the dance floor. He sweeps me past my brothers, and I don’t miss Brody’s tight jaw. When we get outside, he turns to me.

“What the hell is wrong with you tonight?”

“Nothing,” I cry. “I just want to have fun.”

He shakes his head. “This is so unlike you. You’ve been off since the moment you came to my front door. Why?”

I’m not doing this.

“I just want to fucking dance,” I yell. “If you pulled that stick out of your fucking ass you might be able to see that it would be fun.”

His face goes slack. “Excuse me?”

“Jesus, Yates, I’m your girlfriend. I get it at school, but we’re at a club. Would it kill you to touch me?”

He crosses his arms. “I touch you plenty at home.”

I huff. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not going to stand here while you have a tantrum. We’re going.”

“No, we’re fucking not.”

He leans in close, taking my arm. “Enough, Aria. You’re clearly drunk and I won’t have you embarrassing me by acting like a . . .”

“Like a what?” I snarl.

“A loose-mouthed woman.”

In other words, a loose-legged tramp.

“Go to hell.”

“We’re leaving.”

“No.”

He takes my arm and pulls me to the curb. “We are.”

“No.” I snatch my arm out of his. “We’re not.”

“Yates!”

He swings his head around to see a group of people from school coming towards us. Great. Just what we need. Yates straightens and flashes a smile. “Hi guys, fancy seeing you here.”

“Hey, Aria.”

I wave lamely.

Two guys step forward, and they’re prissier than my boyfriend here. Both are wearing their fucking white shirts tucked in. To a club. Yeesh. I look up to the sky. Someone stab me in the eye, it’ll be nicer.

“Didn’t know you guys were out and about tonight,” Yates says, making light conversation. He hasn’t let my arm go, though.

“No it was last minute.”

“Everything okay here?”

I turn to see everyone from our group now standing outside, including Blade and Peyton.

“Ah, can I borrow someone’s car to take Aria home?” Yates asks.

“Can’t help you, man,” Brody says. “We’re going to my place.”

“Great, I’ll go there,” I say, tugging my arm.

“No,” Yates says, with a fake smile plastered to his lips. “We’re going to talk.”

Pfft.

“Everything okay?” Brody asks.

I stare at him, and then my eyes go to Blade who is shooting daggers at Yates. If I say no, they’re going to pummel my boyfriend into the ground, and I don’t need that right now. So with a sigh, I say, “I’m fine. I’m going to go with Yates.”

Melanie eyes me, but I avoid her expression.

“You can take her home in my car,” one of the med students says. “Just bring it back when you’re done and I’ll give you a ride home.”

Yates smiles at him. “Thanks Peter.”

Peter, right.

Peter throws his keys to Yates and we say our goodbyes, me avoiding eye contact with anyone. When we get into Peter’s small sedan, Yates turns to me. “You made a fool of me back there.”

I roll my eyes. “I didn’t do anything. I agreed to come with you. What more do you want?”

“The tension was so thick I’m sure they all knew we were fighting. They probably heard us.”