Charlotte eyed Reece’s full soda. “Let’s finish our drinks?” she suggested.
“Okay, five more minutes and then we roll.” Nina pushed play on the music again. The room filled with the blare of saxophone as Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Run Away with Me” blared from the tinny laptop speakers. Reece hissed his appreciation and leaned back against the wall. His thigh pressed against hers as he relaxed.
Charlotte soaked up the satisfaction of this moment. The pregame was small enough to be cozy but large enough for the room to feel full. Jackie and Jio giggled as they coaxed liquid liner across Matt’s lash line. It occurred to her that this was another of those rare snapshots in time when she was exactly where she wanted to be. These people, this school, this night.
Her body never lost its awareness of Reece beside her. They had all the time in the world to enjoy this evening together: to dance and to flirt and to fool around until dawn if they could find a corner of campus to call their own.
Reece placed his free hand on his knee. His knuckles brushed the side of her thigh. She pressed her leg closer to his, a not-so-discreet Morse code of flirtation. I missed you.
He countered by snaking his arm behind her on the bookshelf, ostensibly to support his weight. His thumb teased the small of her back, rubbing against the thin fabric. Another message traded from skin to skin: I can’t stop thinking about you.
She longed to rest her head on his shoulder, to kiss his cheek and nip at the sensitive shell of his ear. Instead, she contented herself with smelling his sweat and fabric softener. Wholesome perfection.
Eventually Nina declared it time to venture forth. They made a halfhearted effort to clean the room, stacking used cups and shoving them into a shopping bag to recycle in the morning.
Reece offered Charlotte his arm. “Shall we, Charlie?”
She wrapped her fingers through the crook of his elbow. “Lead on, Krueger.”
The group ambled out of the dormitory and into the night. Jio and Jackie led the pack, following the booming echoes of music toward the heart of campus. The party would rage on the President’s Lawn well past midnight. Even when the music finally stopped under the tent, the revelry would relocate to Senior Housing until daybreak. Every year some smartass set off illegal fireworks and added the sirens of Campus Safety to the din.
This night at the end of the world was always loud.
Charlotte shuddered, not from the cold. Reece wrapped his arm around her shoulders and folded her sideways against his chest. “That better?” he murmured into her ear, his lips brushing her hair.
She nodded.
My name is Charlotte Thorne. I am here with Reece and my friends. The graduation ceremony tomorrow isn’t mine. The past is in the past.
I am where I belong.
Charlotte burrowed her hand into Reece’s back pocket. “Always so handsy,” he rumbled.
“My hands are cold too.”
Jackie whirled around and danced backward on the dirt path. She jazz-hands-ed through the air like a deranged tour guide. “Hurry up in the back,” she yelled. “No one gets left behind!”
Charlotte flipped her off. Jackie’s answering laughter bounced off the dark stone of the academic buildings.
The tent was a massive white structure erected behind the university president’s house. Tomorrow, R&C staff would hastily unfold rows of plastic chairs and assemble them in lines across the grass. Friends and family of the Class of 2018 would watch the hatchling adults graduate from the safety of the shade. But tonight, the tent was dedicated to the crush of writhing undergrads and alumni in varying states of intoxication. They’d been invited to an annual bacchanal of celebration, nostalgia, and denial.
Charlotte clung to Reece’s arm as they stepped through the tent’s flaps. The temperature rose a solid ten degrees underneath the vinyl. It overwhelmed her immediately. The layout of the venue hadn’t changed: A bandstand stood along one side for the DJ booth, and a massive bar with multiple serving stations ran along the opposite edge of the party. Loose, long lines of customers waited at each station.
congratulations, class of 2018 was projected on the inside of the tent’s roof. Colored lights cast strange hues across everyone’s faces. Skull-shaking sound poured from the speakers.
Charlotte took a deep, fortifying breath against the swell of noise and memory. Reece unwound their arms and took her hand in his. The simple gesture anchored her in the sensory overload.
She gave him a shaky smile. “This is a lot.”
“We can leave if you need to.” Reece kept his concern discreet, murmuring the offer quietly into her ear. “Just say the word.”
She knew he meant it too. If she wanted to leave, he’d turn his back on the party he drove twenty hours to attend and wouldn’t complain once. Reece was that kind of man.
“I’m okay.” Charlotte swallowed her nerves and nodded to where Jio and Jackie had claimed turf on the dance floor. “Let’s catch up.”
Reece shielded her from the din of the party and the anxiety it dredged up. His large frame cut an easy path through the crowd. Charlotte let him tug her over to their friends.
She focused on the way he held her hand—he did so like it was the most natural thing in the world. On their first go-around, she shied away from this kind of touch. Holding hands was a declarative statement at twenty-two. Sweet and territorial and public, a meaningful gesture in the world of campus hookup culture.
Tonight, she reveled in it. Her heart throbbed each time Reece peered over his shoulder to check that they hadn’t been separated. When they reached their friends and his hand swung free from hers, she found the urge to grab it back.
Amy cupped her hand around her mouth. “Let’s go up to the front!”
Jackie bounced on the balls of her feet at the suggestion and took Nina’s hand. Charlotte waved them on—the last thing she wanted was to get closer to the speakers. The party lights glinted off Nina’s gold hoop earrings before they were absorbed into the crowd, all trace of them vanishing. Strangers filled in the space the girls left behind them in an instant. Charlotte’s eyes swam with color, and she sucked in a ragged breath.
Reece squeezed her hand. She held on tight, letting him tether her as the party whirled and gyrated around them. He looked perfectly at home amid all the chaos, a blissed-out smile lazing across his lips. She only needed to follow his steps, sway with his sway, and keep her eyes on his face.
The song ended and another nostalgia dance track thundered out of the speakers. Jio hissed their disapproval. “LET’S GET DRINKS!”
Charlotte peered around. They were surrounded by tall bodies—she couldn’t see the bar, let alone the line.
Reece read the doubt on her face. “You two go ahead,” he said, waving Jio and Matt off. He pulled her back to lean against his chest, his arms wrapping loosely around her waist. They rocked from side to side to the beat as she melted back against him.
“Thank you,” she said when their friends were gone. “I really don’t want to move.”
“Me neither.” His voice curled around her senses, low and laced with desire. “Right here is perfect.”
His lips brushed her ear. She tilted her neck, nuzzling closer, her skin tingling everywhere his lips found.
