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Chris didn’t say anything, but she saw him glance at her hand.
She pulled it back and stood there helplessly for a moment, feeling tension thicken the air.
Hunter’s eyes narrowed just a bit. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”
Chris set his jaw. His shoulders tightened.
She couldn’t move. The whole moment had a surreal quality to it, Chris and Hunter glowering at each other over her head. Over her.
A voice called from down the hallway. “Hey. Chris.”
One of the twins. She didn’t know which. Of course they’d all be here—Gabriel played on the soccer team.
Chris didn’t turn his head. “Yeah?”
“We’re going out back to shoot hoops with Mark and Drew. You coming?”
Her breath caught, just for a second, as if the mere mention of Drew’s name held power over her.
For a long moment, Chris didn’t move. But then he glanced over his shoulder at his brother. “Yeah. Sure.” He took a step back and started to turn.
She let out a breath she didn’t remember holding. “I’m really sorry about your shirt,” she called.
He didn’t even look back. His voice was mild. “Already over it, Becky.”
The way he said it was like a pinch in the arm.
Bastard. She scowled.
Hunter was watching Chris walk away. She touched his arm. “Come on. Let’s find Quinn.”
Her friend was dancing in the living room, her eyes closed, her arms over her head, moving as though the music were making love to her.
Apparently, Becca wasn’t the only one who thought so, because two guys were dancing alongside her. Becca didn’t recognize either one of them.
The trio wasn’t lacking for an audience, either.
“Quinn seems lonely,” said Hunter. He’d grabbed some sodas from somewhere and was holding out a sweating can. She took it.
Quinn thrust her h*ps with the beat, then smacked the insides of her thighs.
Becca winced. “I’ve never seen her do that before—”
“You sure?” Hunter’s voice at her shoulder was dry. “That looks kind of practiced.”
“Hey.” She glared at him.
He shrugged and took a draw from his can. “Just saying.”
The guy behind Quinn moved closer. He stood a head taller than she did, with dark skin, maybe Middle Eastern or Hispanic—it was too dark for Becca to tell for sure. He put strong hands on Quinn’s h*ps and pulled her back.
Becca stiffened. She’d punch a guy for grabbing her like that. But her friend smacked his hands playfully and spun away from him, giving him a pouty look and shaking her head.
Becca caught her eye. You okay? she mouthed.
Quinn nodded, making it work with the beat. He’s hot, she mouthed, fanning herself while her back was to the guy.
The song changed. Quinn held out a hand, a clear invitation.
