He’s changing the words from “Every Rose” to “Avery Rose,” and I’m mortified as Markus falls off his chair laughing. Even Mekena is dying while I just stand there, so damn embarrassed I don’t know what to do.

Until finally, I just laugh.

Soon, I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe and I’m crying from the hilarity of the situation. He is unreasonable and crazy. I’ve never had someone sing a song to me, or even dedicate one, and I’ve most definitely never had a guy change the lyrics to fit my name. Even if the song is an old rock song about breaking up with some girl.

But it’s for me.

As he sings into the mic like he is Bret Michaels himself, with the bandanna and shit-kicking boots, all I can do is shake my head, wiping my tears away.

Man, this guy.

Shit…

I think he stole my heart.

Or wait, did I give it to him?

Sliding up my body, he trails his lips along my chest as he brings the skirt of my dress up, falling between my legs. I’m lost in his kiss and more than a little drunk. We had a blast, an utter blast of very bad singing from Jace, and lots of drinking. He somehow beat me, but I’m pretty sure it’s because he took his shirt off during his rap song. He really thought he was Eminem up there, and for a second, I almost believed he was. His confidence is something I can’t help but be jealous of. He’s intoxicating.

And mine.

All mine.

Arching into him as he nibbles on my neck, I close my eyes, feeling on top of the world. He does something to me, something so crazy that all I can do is hold on and hope I don’t fall. But I am. I’m falling hard, and no matter how hard I’m scraping the sides, trying to keep myself from doing just that, I can’t hold on. I can’t grasp anything because he makes it too easy. Too perfect.

Hungrily, we kiss, our hands everywhere, and I can’t get enough. When his hands slide up my thigh, taking ahold of my panties and pulling them down, I’m so gone. I’m shaking with want as his fingers enter me, his moans mixing with mine as our lips crash together. Fucking me slowly with his thick, talented fingers, he uses his mouth to torment me just as much as his fingers are. Curving his fingers inside me, he speeds up, taking my breath and bringing me to the edge. Falling over, I cry out against his lips, before his mouth is back on mine, catching my cries of pleasure.

Sucking in a breath as his mouth trails down to my shoulder, I lengthen my neck for him, unable to completely regulate my breathing. Hell, that was good and he is obviously not done with me yet. Pushing my skirt up around my waist with his hand, he tugs it away as he nibbles on my jaw. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Smiling against his lips, I slowly open my eyes, my hands coming up his back, pulling his shirt up and over his head. As my eyes drink in every single detail about his body, like they do every single time we’re like this, I can’t believe how awestruck I am by him. He says I’m beautiful, but really, he is the gorgeous one.

His body is a temple of sex, and I want to fall to my knees in front of it and praise him for the rest of my existence.

But then I realize the lights are on.

Shit.

“Hey, shut the lights off.”

He shakes his head, though, coming back down to me, his mouth on my neck, my collarbone. “No, I want you now,” he says, sitting up, and I try to slam my legs together. But he is in the way. Panic settles in my chest as I bring my skirt down, covering my thighs as much as possible.

“No, really, please.”

But he is undoing his pants, sheathing himself with the condom he grabbed when we were making our way up to the bunk. Then he is fully sheathed, his cock looking ever so delicious, but I can’t get distracted by that. I have to get these lights off, no matter how much I want to just stare at his naked body. Looking down at me, he brings his brows together as our gazes meet. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Shut the lights off.”

“Why?” he asks, falling between my legs, pushing them back before entering me with one thrust. “I’m already in,” he whispers against my jaw. “Fuck, you feel so damn good.”

But I’m panicking.

I can’t even focus on what he is doing because I’m scared he’ll see. Pushing my legs back farther, he thrusts into me, his breath hot on my face, his fingers digging into my ribs. But all I can do is try not to cry. I know he is going to see. Just stop him, I tell myself, but I can’t. I’m frozen.

But as he moves his cheek along mine, sitting up to look down at me, he stops. “Avery? What’s wrong?”

I only shake my head, though, closing my eyes. He cups my face.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong? Do you want me to stop?”

I can’t answer him because, while I do, I don’t. I want to continue. I want to be normal, but I can’t stop thinking about what he could see.

“Answer me,” he demands, and I slowly open my eyes, my heart pounding so hard it hurts as he makes our gazes meet. “What the hell is wrong?”

“I want the lights off,” I whisper and his brows crash together in worry.

“Why, though? I love looking at you,” he says roughly, his lips moving against mine. “You’re beautiful, Avery.”

And I believe him, but I can’t shake this anxiety that is eating me alive.

“Please.”

His eyes search mine for maybe another second, and then he gets up. Quickly, I pull my skirt down as he climbs down the ladder, hits the lights, and then gets back in bed. As he covers my body with his, I wait for him to get back inside me, but he frames my face, running his thumb along my jaw. “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”

“Yeah, sorry,” I say, sucking in a deep breath.

He pauses. “I’m really sorry. I should have listened. I’m a little drunk.”

“It’s fine,” I say quickly. But it isn’t. My heart is still pounding against my ribs and I feel sweat dripping down my back. I feel like I’m going to puke, and I hate it. I hate how I feel right now.

Continuing to move his thumb along my jaw, he rolls off me and pulls me against him. Confused, I look up at him, the light from the street lamp shining into the room and glowing against his face. “You don’t want to finish?”

He shakes his head. “No, I want to hold you.”