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“So does he.” She points at Ezra. His hands are clean.

Traitor.

Rhett lifts his hands. “Mine too.”

“Exactly.” She points at me. “Dirt Boy.”

I haven’t laughed in a very long time. Something comes out anyway. Quiet. Rough from lack of use.

Her eyes widen. “There.” She points at me again. “He does have emotions.”

Rhett stares at me. Ezra does too. Their expressions irritate me.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Ezra says.

Rhett’s grin grows. “Oh, absolutely nothing.”

I consider hitting him.

Sage saves him. “Where are Mariah and Ali?” She turns toward the crowd.

I already know.

Mariah is dancing near the second fire with a woman dressed as a devil. Ali is standing beside the water station talking to a man in a hockey jersey.

I point. “Mariah is there.”

She follows my finger. “And Ali?”

“Water station.”

She spots her. Then looks at me. “How the fuck did you know their names?”

Ezra gives me a warning look.

I ignore it. “I’ve been watching you.”

Silence bleeds out between us.

Rhett rubs his hand over his mouth. Ezra looks ready to strangle me.

Sage blinks. “Well.”

“You could phrase things less ominously,” Rhett says.

“I could.”

“You choose not to.”

“Yes.”

Sage laughs. But there’s uncertainty beneath it.

Good.

Fear and attraction aren’t opposites. Sometimes they live closer together than people like to admit.