Page 7 of Dial A for Aunties

Selena cackles. “Oh god, your face. I’m just kidding. No fucking tonight, okay? You and Nathan are too adorable to fall for the drunk one-night-stand bullshit. We’ll just find him, he’ll take one look at you in this outfit, and that’ll be that. He’s going to DIE.”

“Not literally, I hope,” I mutter under my breath, just in case the curse is listening in. I take a deep breath and follow Selena as she struts confidently into the heaving frat house.

It’s even worse inside than I thought it would be. The music is so loud my teeth rattle to the beat. Selena dives into the crowd, slithering between the hot, pulsing bodies, pulling me along with her. I have no idea where we’re headed or how she even knows where to go. Someone spills an icy drink down the tight jeans Selena’s lent me for the night and I squeal, letting go of Selena’s hand, but any sound I make is immediately swallowed by the din. The bodies heave and close behind Selena. I cry out her name, but even I can’t hear my own voice.

And now I’m alone. I take a deep breath, which is a mistake. Frat houses probably don’t smell great at the best of times, and an hour into a roaring party, it smells radioactive. I gag, steel myself, and plunge back into the crowd, calling out for Selena. Some drunk guy stumbles and crashes into me, his sudden momentum making me stumble. I’m about to be trampled. This is not a good way to die—

“Whoa, hey,” someone says, pulling me off the sticky floor.

“Nathan,” I breathe.

He blinks. “Meddy?” Then he seems to actually see me for the first time, and his eyes widen. “Wow.”

I gnaw on my lip. Selena would be so proud of his reaction, but I feel stupid, as if I’m wearing someone else’s clothes. Which I am.Selena’s stuffed me into a pair of jeans so tight I’m pretty sure they’re going to have to be cut off my legs, and a shimmery, backless tank top that doesn’t allow for a bra. She says it’s fine since bras are really only for women with boobs. Harsh but true.

“Oh, hey,” I say, as if I totally was not expecting to see him here, as if I didn’t expressly come here half naked just to surprise him into loving me back.

“What?” he shouts.

“I said ‘Hey!’” I shout back.

“Hey yourself,” he shouts. At least, I think that’s what he shouts.

“What?” I shout. We both shake our heads and laugh, and whatever awkwardness there was between us melts away like a little piece of marshmallow. He takes my hand and squeezes it before leading me across the room. My heart squeezes painfully—argh, he’s going to notice how sweaty my palms are and then he’ll let go and I’ll lose him in the crowd the same way I lost Selena—but Nathan keeps a tight grip on my fingers and weaves through the crowd slowly, turning back every few steps to make sure I’m okay. And then suddenly, we’re out in the backyard, chilly night wind stinging my face and my bare back, making me break out in goose bumps. Nathan closes the glass door behind us, and the thumping music is cut off, thank god.

“You made it,” Nathan says, giving me a one-armed hug. “Where’s Selena?”

“Somewhere inside.” I check my phone and send her a quick message letting her know I’m in the backyard.

While I’m on my phone, Nathan greets the other people out here. There’s a handful of them, all of them carrying red plastic cups or bottles of IPA. Okay, I can do this. Its way more relaxed out here. I shove my hands in my pockets, or try to, anyway. It turns out these stupid jeans are way too tight to fit even a pinkyin. Nathan introduces me to his friends, whose names I immediately forget, but when I tell them mine, a couple of them light up and glance at Nathan, who narrows his eyes back at them. My heart clatters against my rib cage.Does that mean he’s told his friends about me? DOES THAT MEAN HE LOVES ME IN A MORE THAN JUST FRIENDS WAY?

Okay, slow down, bunny boiler. It doesn’t mean anything. A girl hands me a bottle of IPA and holds out a bottle opener to me. “Just hang it on that hook when you’re done.” She points at a hook that’s been nailed onto a tree in the middle of the yard.

I do as she told me, and when I turn around from the tree, I walk right into Nathan’s chest. “Oof.”

“You okay? Sorry, I thought you knew I was right behind you.”

I rub my nose. “Geez, are you wearing a breastplate under your shirt?”

He flexes his biceps dramatically. “What can I say? I’m just really cut.”

“More like bony.” He isn’t, though. Not by a long shot. I tear my horny eyes away from his pecs. What is it about guys’ pecs that I find so attractive? It’s like I’m a boob man, but the reverse. A pec girl. Then my gaze lands on Nathan’s hands, and I think,Mmm, he has nice hands. Maybe I’m a hand girl. Or maybe I’m just a Nathan everything girl.

I lean back against the tree trunk in an effort to look, well, effortless, but that turns out to be a massive mistake. Pro tip: don’t lean against a tree trunk when wearing a backless top. “Shit,” I hiss, rubbing at my back. “What’s on this stupid tree, razor blades?”

“Um, that would be tree bark. Let me see your back.” And before I know it, Nathan’s fingers are on my bare skin. A warm, strong hand against my chilled back. My muscles melt into water. My stomach is basically a puddle. I swallow, reminding myself tobreathe. “Just a scratch. You’ll live.” But his hand doesn’t leave my back. Instead, his fingers splay across it, making my entire body tingle. “You cold?”

I can barely speak as he takes off his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. This is it. This is when I tell him that I’ve been having sex dreams about him—no, that I have a massive crush on him, that I think he’s as perfect as humans come. His jacket’s so big it hangs off my shoulders.

“Has anyone ever told you how ridiculously tiny you are?”

“Excuse you, I am five feet two—”

“On a good day, in heels,” Nathan murmurs, giving me that dimpled smile. He pulls the jacket closed around me and gives a little tug, as if he doesn’t want to let go. I don’t want him to let go. “Hey,” he says, his voice soft velvet.

I look up and fall into his gaze. “Hey.” For once, there are no jokes, no smartass remarks, no thick layer of friendship between us. It’s just him, and me, and the chilly desert night, and string lights glowing like stars around us.

“I’m glad you came,” Nathan says.

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