“The Jaegers are here,” Amy shouts in my ear.

“Oh?”

I stop myself from looking to see which Jaegers she’s talking about, but when Callum slides an arm around my waist from behind and holds me like I’m his, I let him. Even going so far as to caress his hand over my stomach.

“Probably keeping an eye on their flag,” I tell her.

She shoots me a wicked look, and I think we’re both wondering how much trouble we’re in for tonight, especially since we’re on their turf.

I turn my head over my shoulder, inviting Callum closer and snuggling into his body. “I’m gonna dance.”

“I’m gonna watch.”

His mouth comes down, and I come in, but before he kisses me, I dive into his ear instead. “I hope you like it,” I say, talking loud over the music. “You’re gonna watch me a lot.”

And I pull away, biting my bottom lip and teasing him with my eyes all the way to the dance floor with Amy.

She’s here. Liv sees me. I know she does.

And if she won’t let me have her, then I want her pissed. She thinks she’s punishing me, but she’s going to learn the meaning of the word tonight.

The music pumps, rain hangs in the air, and I tip my head back as the energy rocks my body. Everyone jumps to the music, and I smile.

Letting my eyes drift around the room, I flash my gaze here and there—feeling her—but before I can find her, I spot Krisjen. I pause, watching her dance with Trace Jaeger, half-hidden behind the stairs with her back into his body.

He glides his hands all over her, and my first thought isn’t her boyfriend who’s here and about to catch them. It’s how lucky she is that she can let her Jaeger paw her in public, but she still won’t suffer half as much as I would if mine were doing that.

I roll my hips, moving my arms and bouncing on my feet, and as I twist my head side to side with the beat, I see her.

I think I see her.

I keep going, back and forth, blood rushing to my head as I take more of her in every time I turn right. It’s her. Sitting on a pile of crates and leaning against the wall, her head tipped back, one arm hanging over her bent knee, and the other leg dangling over the side.

Dressed in black jeans with holes in the knees and a white tank top, a flannel tied around her waist.

She watches me. Her eyes are shrouded, but under the cover of shadow, I know she’s watching me.

And immediately I know that I can’t even fool myself. I’m not in control.

She has my heart in her fist.

I dance for her, my hand grazing between my legs and across the sliver of visible bare skin between my shirt and my skirt. Reminding her of what I felt like. Of who loves her good.

Arms slide around me, lazy but invasive, his finger slipping under the waist of my skirt and touching my skin. Callum presses himself into my back, and I watch Liv, knowing she’s watching me. Watching us. Under the shadow of the speaker above her. Under her black lashes and dark eyes that could’ve been closed, but I know they’re open. I know she’s watching. Her hand hangs over her knee, her thumb calmly and steadily grinding back and forth in her fist.

And I don’t stop him.

Callum moves, bringing me with him as his hand creeps up my torso. His lips graze a line up my neck, and Liv still doesn’t move, digging her thumb into her fist back and forth, over and over, her gaze still hidden under the cover of darkness.

Krisjen spills out of the crowd, laughing with her drink sloshing and spilling over the rim of her cup. I reach out to grab her, Callum’s hands falling away, and I break into a smile as I steady her. She looks like she’s having fun. More fun than I’ve seen her have in a long time.

She shoves the drink in my hand and wraps her arms around me. “I love you!”

I shake with a laugh. “I’ll bet you even love Amy right now, don’t you?”

“Huh?” she shouts over the music.

Whatever. “Nothing!” I shout, drinking down a couple gulps of her beer as “Fuqboi” comes over the speakers.

Krisjen gasps, excited, and starts bouncing, because right now she loves this song, too. Belting out the lyrics, she takes my hand as I turn, tossing the cup into the trash, and she pulls me to the center of the room, everyone dancing around us. The chorus starts, Callum is forgotten, and Krisjen grabs hold of me, her arms hanging over my shoulders as she starts to dance. She rolls her hips, slow at first and then faster, and I only hesitate a moment, thankful that someone saved me from him. Even though I think it was working at making Liv jealous.

I join in, both of us swaying and dancing, smiling and laughing as the music belts out, filling up the room. We move into each other, and I can only imagine Callum is somewhere off to the side, enjoying the view. Krisjen puts her hands on my waist, the lyrics making us laugh, but she sings with it, almost shouting in anger.

She rocks her arms behind her, back and forth, and I don’t know if it’s intentional, but she brushes up on me. Again and again, her chest meets mine. I let my eyes fall, her breasts like half peaches, poking through her thin top. The dark outline of her small nipples shows through as her hair brushes my lips.

I dart my eyes to Liv.

Her thumb has stopped grinding.

She doesn’t move.

She sits there, and I grab onto Krisjen, our legs threaded as we dance. The heat of Liv’s eyes travels over the band of bare skin between my tank top and skirt, watching me move, and maybe she’s remembering exactly what I feel like under these clothes.

And that maybe Callum isn’t a threat. Another girl will eventually want me.

But when I look back, Liv is gone. Krisjen moves into me as sweat trickles down my back. I twist my neck left and right. Where is she?

Where did she go?

And then I tip my head up, seeing her climb the spiral staircase. A girl holds her hand, pulling Liv after her, but it’s not Martelle.

What the fuck? I stop. Who is that now?

They disappear around the curve of the stairs until I can’t see them anymore, and my stomach sinks.

“Whoo!” Krisjen squeals, oblivious.

But I fall away from her, stepping back and watching the stairs. How many girls did she have? She thinks she can just move on? She thinks I’m disposable? Replaceable?

Some cute brunette shakes her skirt at you, and you think you can have her? I clench my jaw.

I’m sick of chasing her. She said she wouldn’t put pressure on me. She said we could keep this quiet. I know what she must’ve felt, me leaving her on the street like that, but what was I supposed to do? What would she have done? Let’s not pretend that after years of me treating her like shit, she’s prepared to be seen with me either. How would that look?

We’re not a couple. That’s not what this is.

But we’re also not done. I charge after her. She doesn’t get the last word. I do.

I step up the stairs, the grates vibrating under my shoes, the whole staircase shaking a little with the weight of all the people standing on it. I push past bodies, looking up as I climb and squeeze through the crowd. Windows stack about five feet from each other, one on top of another, letting in what little moonlight seeps through the clouds.

The lantern at the top stopped functioning decades ago, Saber Point Lighthouse falling into ruin like so many lighthouses now obsolete with the invention of computers and radar. The last lightkeeper died the year my mother was born, some of his furniture still sitting in the living quarters that he had shared with a corgi named Archie. Rumor has it he also shared the living quarters with a woman about thirty years younger than him, but no one ever saw her, so I don’t know how the rumor started. Some say she was here illegally and hiding. Some say he rescued her as a girl and she refused to leave him when he tried to send her on her way. All versions of a truth no one would ever know because he died, and as far as I know, the place was empty when they found him.