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“Of course. You don’t mind if Lil comes to the after-party too, do you?” Gemma asks.

“Not at all.” Sebastian’s hand slides onto my thigh, startling me. “Looking forward to seeing you there.” His eyes meet mine, a silent challenge in their depths as his hand inches higher up beneath my skirt.

No one seems to notice, but I’m hyper-aware of it. The heat of his palm on my bare thigh and his thumb tracing slow, teasing circles on my skin. I stare at my half-eaten salad, struggling to stay composed.

What do I do? Jason is right beside me.

“She’s not going. She told your sister already.” Jason shoves a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

“Is that so?” Sebastian’s fingers float further up my thigh, and I clench them together, trying to trap his hand.

But it’s no use. His hand inches higher, grazing the hem of my slip.

My breaths come quicker as I try to form a coherent response. “I-I suppose I could go.” Hopefully, my voice doesn’tbetray me as much as my body wants his hand to continue. To glide his fingers…

“Wonderful.” His hand retreats a few inches, fingers splayed over my inner thigh in a possessive claim. “The game starts at seven.”

“Then it’s decided. Mary and I will pick you up at your dorm, Lil,” Gemma says. “Around 6?”

“Perfect,” I say.

“I’m off.” Jason rises, and before I get a chance to speak, he has vanished.

“Sorry,” Gemma shoots me an apologetic look.

“No need. It’s okay. I’ll talk to him later.”

“Okay, good. Wouldn’t want to be the reason you two got into a fight,” Gemma says. “It’ll be so much fun tonight! We can grab dinner after, too, if you like.”

“At the after-party, yes,” Sebastian says.

“You’ll have the pleasure to eat my food. I’ll be making Paella, guys, so I dare you to go eat at some restaurant,” Brandon says.

I nod mutely, my sole focus on Sebastian’s hand. It’s maddening, intoxicating, spurring a slow ache between my legs.

“You act like you’re already a Michelin star chef,” Mary says.

“Did you ever taste my food, Miss Critic?”

“Can’t say I remember.”

“God. I think I’m having a heart attack. Connor tell her.” Brandon acts like he would faint into Connor’s arm, who tries to keep Brandon at arm’s length.

“Guess you need to do better, Bran,” Connor says.

“What? You, too? You side with her now?” Brandon asks.

Connor shrugs.

“What about you, Gemma? You ate my food. You liked the lasagna I made, right?”

“Glad you decided to come tonight,” Sebastian whispers into my ear as the others are distracted talking about Brandon’s cooking.

“You knew I’d be here,” I whisper-yell back.

“Did I?” He cocks his head, still grinning. “My memory must be slipping.”

I roll my eyes, fighting a smile. “Very funny.”

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