"How do you think your sister would feel if the roles were reversed?"

I spoke in hushed tones, my irritation making my words string tightly together. "I would think a little relieved."

"That's the stu—“she pinched her lips together before correcting herself"—silliest thing I've ever heard."

My mouth hung open for a moment. "Were you going to say stupid?"

"No," Mom cringed, "yes, but I caught myself."

I snorted.

I couldn't explain why it was funny, but we both started laughing. She asked how horseback riding went, and we left the subject of my sister and her love life alone.

Mitchell Williams spotted me before I spotted him. Avoiding him had been my main extra-curricular in high school. I was clearly out of practice because he swung his heavy arm across my shoulders. Beer spilled from his plastic cup and barely missed the toe of my boot.

It was late enough in the night that voices had raised in volume, and everything was a bit funnier than it had been a few beers ago. I was still sober but enjoying myself. Or I had been about four seconds ago.

He spoke directly to my breasts. "Lizzy, you've got a hot kindergarten teacher thing goin'."

With as little enthusiasm as I felt, I said, "Crayons on sweaters really do it for you?"

His grin took on a lascivious edge. "When they're on you."

"Avert your gaze."

"You always have something smart to say."

"Wish I could say the same."

"I hear you're finally single."

"Single doesn't mean interested, Mitchell." I tried to shrug out from under his arm, but he pulled me in tighter.

I shot him my most haughty, threatening glare. Considering how often he'd been on the receiving end, he was impervious. If I had known it only took a boyfriend to keep Mitchell from acting like a jackass, I would have lied about having one, too. "Get your arm off of me."

"We could be good, you know."

Will appeared in front of us. He had moved so quickly that I hadn't even noticed him coming. "Hey, man. I'm Will."

Mitchell tilted his head dumbly but didn't let me go to shake the hand extended to him. "I thought you were Bill."

"It's Will." There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, contrasting the big smile on his face. Under the tangled strings of Christmas lights, they appeared black. They darkened when he saw the frustration on my face. He jerked his still waiting hand. "You gonna leave me hanging?"

The pressure on my shoulders lifted, and I took one big step away. I was at equal parts relieved and irritated. What kind of bullshit was it that Mitchell would listen to a man, but not me?

Dick.

Shaking Will's hand, Mitchell introduced himself.

But when he went to retrieve his hand, Will didn't let go. His knuckles whitened from the force of his grip. His smile twisted into something menacing. With a voice lower and more threatening than I would have thought he was capable of, he said, "You're gonna keep this paw off of her."

I decided the thrill his protectiveness sent through me didn't deserve criticism.

"The fuck?" Mitchell pulled at his hand again. He was a little shorter than Will, and I could see Mitchell assessing the outcome of a physical fight. It didn't look good for him.

"Don't touch her again."

"What are you gonna do about it?"