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I grinned, and when he returned the smile, his teeth glowed neon.
Another totally intense, rhythmic song started pounding through the air, the vein in my temple dancing to the beat.
“Wes!” Madison yelled, and I turned toward my friends.
Jamie and Ryan were shirtless, both girls drawing designs over their cut torsos with bright pink, yellow, and orange markers. Girls standing nearby were already staring, taking in the carved bodies of the swimmers.
Rory shook her paint pen at one with a particularly wandering eye, and Ryan laughed. So she jammed the pen into his hand and tugged off her sweater, revealing a strappy little tank top.
Ryan stopped laughing.
She crooked her finger at him, and he leaned down so she could speak in his ear. When she was done, he smiled and started drawing on all her newly exposed skin.
A quick glance at Madison and Jamie, and I noted she was also in a much smaller top than before and she had glowing kiss marks all over her neck and collarbone.
Win yelled his name, and Jamie looked up, his lips glowing hot pink.
We both laughed, and Jamie smirked.
In that moment, I wasn’t so sure staying single seemed like the best option.
“Come on, bro,” Win said, swiping his shirt off in one movement. He’d definitely been working out more since going to Sweden. His body was cut. “Make me glow!”
I handed a couple twenties to the guy manning the paint table and grabbed a few pens. I made one of Win’s nipples look like a bullseye and then shook one of the pens over his head so that paint peppered his hair and made it look like he had glowing glitter in it.
He slashed orange marks under his eyes like warpaint and then told me to draw a pink heart over his chest. “Chicks dig it,” he yelled over the music.
When he was good and covered with paint, he grabbed a few extra pens and shoved them in his jeans pockets. You know, in case any of those chicks wanted to make him their canvas.
My brother was a dog.
Honestly, I wished I was more like him.
“Come on. You’re next!” he said, motioning for me to take off my shirt.
I shoved my tee into the back pocket of my ripped-up jeans. The bruise from the seatbelt was still very visible, so we covered it in stars and scribbles, making it look like I had the Milky Way streaking across my chest.
When that was done, Win drew an arrow pointing toward my dick and laughed like it was the best thing since sliced bread.
Out of paint, he turned away, and I reached into my pocket, pulling out something I had no business bringing with me. The second it was revealed, it lit up neon like it did every night.
The moon.
Right before leaving, I’d snatched it off my ceiling. The same moon Max helped me hang. The moon he’d kissed me under. I shied away from asking myself why I tucked it in my pocket. All I knew was that I was utterly compelled to grab it.
And now here I was holding it in my palm, watching it glow under the blacklights. Glancing down at the stars stretching across my chest, I found a spot among them and stuck it to my skin.
I thought it might fall off, but it clung like it was exactly where it belonged.
Win returned, eyes finding the moon immediately, lifting a brow, which was stained with pink paint. I shrugged.
He let it go, choosing instead to speckle my hair with pink and yellow.
“Let’s dance!” Madison yelled, and everyone started toward the dance floor, which was pretty much the entire building. There were so many people packed in here there was no way this was up to fire code.
Another song came through the speakers, and I looked toward the end of the giant space where the DJ was set up on a lifted platform. He had on glow-in-the-dark headphones and a black T-shirt that was splattered with glowing paint.
“Westbrook in da house!” he yelled, the music cutting out before blasting again, and everyone in the place roared so loud the roof vibrated.
