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I wasn’t too sure that constituted generosity, but whatever.

“No weed,” Callum declared. I turned my head, finding him closer than I thought. Right beside me, his forehead creased with consternation. Why did he always seem so angry with me? It was maddening. Yet, I was tempted to drag my thumb over the line between his brows to smooth it out.

Adam’s vicious chuckle caught my attention. “Oh? Dad’s laying down the law, huh? I think sweet Wren gets to make that call.”

They exchanged a long look, and I was more than relieved when the elevators slid open. But then I was trapped between them in a small box, so that wasn’t much fun either. I fiddled with the buttons on my coat while my heart sat firmly in the center of my throat, pulsing madly. Adam had placed his hand on my shoulder while Callum was a foot away, his arms crossed, glaring with heated intensity.

If he was psychic and could reach inside my mind, he’d know I was thinking about how different he was to his emails. He wasn’t the person I’d gotten to know over the year and a half I’d been so deeply devoted to his words on my screen, I couldn’t even look at another boy. I didn’t crush, but I did fall in love. One moment, he was Callum Rose, quirky, shy rock star. The next, he was threatening to hunt down whoever hurt me on prom night. And I was his. I thought irrevocably, but I’d been wrong. Nothing lasted forever.

The elevator opened directly into the penthouse. Security checked our names at the entrance. An opaque, black curtain that looked like it had been installed for the party divided the entry from the rest of the apartment.

Adam rested his hands on my shoulders. “Ready to take this off?”

“Oh.” My hand rushed to a button. “Yes. I guess I shouldn’t walk around in my coat all night.” I shrugged it off into Adam’s waiting hands while Callum stood in front of me watching. Always watching.

I tipped my chin up, and he brought his down, raking his gaze over me. My black, sleeveless wrap dress dipped low on my cleavage, gathered in the center, and draped over my legs. The length would have been obscenely short on a taller woman, but it stopped just past mid-thigh on me. Daring, for sure, but I wasn’t in danger of flashing my lacy red panties. Not unless I wanted to.

Adam hung up my coat on a discreet, tucked away rack, then he placed his hand on my lower back and guided me through the curtain. Once on the other side, I wondered if he was the white rabbit and I’d followed him down a rabbit hole. It certainly felt like an entirely different world. Wonderland, except more debauched.

The smell of incense and spice hit me first. Sultry music filtered through the air. Below that was a din of conversation and clinking glasses. There were performers on mini platforms. Barely dressed women rolling their bodies like waves. One woman wore leather straps for clothes and slowly and sensually swallowed an impossibly long sword.

“Oh. Holy granola.” My face was hot. My chest too. Even my toes were on fire.

Adam leaned in, brushing my hair from my ear. “Not what you were expecting?”

“I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“We’ll have fun,” he promised.

Through this, Callum observed me carefully, his arms folded across his chest like a bodyguard. He’d left his leather jacket with my coat. He wore a close-fitting, pale blue button down, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and dark blue jeans with a chain hanging at his hip. Tonight, his normally unkempt hair was tucked neatly in a bun at the base of his head.

He looked nice, but I didn’t think he’d care for me to tell him. He certainly hadn’t said anything about my appearance.

“Did I mention how utterly delectable you look?” Adam placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me deeper into the party. “I don’t think I can keep calling you cutie. Hottie is more like it.”

“Her name is Wren,” Callum muttered from my other side.

Adam rolled his eyes. “Dude, no kidding. This is called charm. Girls like when you compliment them and shit. Maybe try it sometime.”

I snorted at the two of them. “Wren is good. Hottie is weird.”

A man in a leather mask with a zipper over his mouth carried a tray of drinks by us. Adam scooped two up and handed one to me.

“I have no idea what this is, but…” he took a sip of the pale pink cocktail, “it tastes like lowered inhibitions and good times. Cheers, Wren.”

I clinked my glass with his and turned to Callum. He only stared at me, not making a move to tap my glass, so I took a step closer and did it myself.

His mouth flattened. His eyes danced over my face.

“Cheers, Callum,” I whispered.

He sucked in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “You should go home, Wren.”

A ridiculous laugh burst free. “I’m not familiar with that toast. Is it one that was passed down as a family tradition?”

His eyelid twitched, and the very corners of his mouth curved slightly. “The night is young. It’s only goin’ to get crazier here.”

“Who says I don’t like crazy?”

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