Maybe it was okay that Gabriel hadn’t shown up.

“I’m Layne,” she said.

“Layne,” he repeated softly. “I like that. Are you here with anyone?”

It was a testament to Kara’s and Taylor’s efforts that he actually thought she would be here with someone. She shook her head, feeling the curls slide across her shoulder.

He shifted even closer, running a finger from her left shoulder down to her elbow. It was her good side, the safe side, so she let him.

“Hey,” he said in surprise, his voice a bit teasing. “You’ve got a little muscle on you for being so tiny.”

She flushed. “Yeah, well . . .”

“Don’t tell me.” He gave her a quick up-and-down. “Yoga?”

She laughed. “No.” Then she paused. She never talked about horses at school, but she remembered Gabriel’s comment about how it was a silly thing to keep secret especially from a guy who seemed into her.

“I ride horses,” she explained. She turned her head to point.

“The farm is just outside the neighborhood. I walk to the barn every morning to ride.”

“I know those woods. I live over there, on the other side.” He paused, and she felt him move even closer. “You ride before school? That’s dedicated.”

She shrugged and turned back to find his lips brushing against hers.

Layne sucked in a breath and pulled away.

He didn’t pursue her, but his hand kept up the stroking of her upper arm. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly, without thinking. He’d tasted sweet, like peppermint.

He reached up to brush a thumb against her lips and her breath caught.

“I’m glad you came,” he murmured.

It softened something inside her. “Me too.”

Then he kissed her again, and she let him, just for the sheer experience of it. His mouth was heavier than she was ready for but it wasn’t bad. Just . . . unexpected.

When his lips moved to part hers, she put a hand against his chest.

Again, he stopped, and Layne tried to catch her breath.

His eyes searched her face. “You’re very pretty.”

She had the same thought she’d had a moment ago. Maybe it’s okay that Gabriel hasn’t shown up.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

His mouth found hers again, heavy and warm and wet.

So this was what kissing felt like.

Nice, but she didn’t get the big appeal.

She put a hand against his chest a final time. He lifted his head, barely breaking contact. “What is it?”

“I don’t even know your name.”

He smiled, and she felt his lips move against hers. “It’s Ryan,” he said. “Ryan Stacey.”

Gabriel stared at the dashboard of Hunter’s Jeep and made no move to get out of the vehicle.

“I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here,” he said.

“Well,” said Hunter, “we could always go back to the house and watch Mamma Mia! with my grandparents. Or maybe we could stare at the police scanner for another hour and wait for nothing to happen. Or maybe ”

“I just don’t feel like being at a party.” At this party. Full of guys who’d know he wasn’t allowed on the team. Full of girls who’d tease him about being an idiot.

Hunter’s dog stuck his head between the seats, and Gabriel reached up to scratch him behind his ears. “I’ll just stay here with the dog.”

Hunter sighed and gave him a look. “Come on, baby, don’t be like that. Did you pack your Midol?”

“All right, all right.” Gabriel climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him. “I don’t even know why I like you.”

Heather’s place was packed but then her parties always drew a crowd. There had to be a dozen kids crammed into the hot tub, though no one was braving the pool. Music blared from a sound system on the far side of the pool deck, loud enough that it was a miracle no one had called the cops already.

Gabriel kept thinking of Layne’s house down the road. She’d dropped that note on his desk this afternoon. I’ll help you.

That’s it. No phone number, nothing.

And she still hadn’t called. Lucky him, it was Friday, and he could wonder about it all weekend.

For about two seconds, he had a fleeting hope that she might be here. Taylor had mocked him at lunch, some crap about inviting Layne so they could all “study together,” but Gabriel had ignored her until she went away.

Layne hated Taylor. She hated Heather Castelline. And this wasn’t exactly her crowd.

“Your brother’s here,” said Hunter, handing him a soda from somewhere.

“I know.” He’d figured Nick would be here, had already spotted him across the pool with Quinn.

Nick had spotted him, too, staring at Gabriel for exactly one second before looking away to laugh at something Quinn said.

And then he never looked back.

Fine.

“Hey, aren’t you the new kid in my American lit class?”

Gabriel turned but the girl standing there was talking to Hunter. Calla Dean, tall and lithe and probably on as many sports teams as he himself was though they rarely ran in the same circles. She’d gotten the school volleyball team to the state championships last year as a sophomore. The only reason he knew her was because she’d caught his eye once: Blond hair streaked with blue was chopped off right at her shoulders, and tattooed flames encircled her wrists and crawled up the insides of her forearms.