The higher up, the harder the fall.

..."Good, because I need your help." "Help is my middle name." I was pretty sure she'd already told me bad was her middle name, but I kept my opinion to myself.

You laugh, but you haven't seen me in a tux. Or maybe you don't like broad-shouldered guys with muscular chest and washboard abs?

You should go," I breathed. "You should definitely go." "Go here?" His mouth was on my shoulder. "Or here?" It moved up my neck.

Anthony raised his red plastic cup to me and shouted something, but it was too hard to hear over the music. “What?” I called back. “You look great!” A goofy smile was plastered on his face. “Oh boy,” Vee said. “Not just a pimp, but a smashed pimp.” “So maybe he’s a little drunk.” “Drunk and hoping to corner you alone in a bedroom upstairs.” Ugh.

Patch stood over me, and a drop of rain slid from his hair, landing like ice on my collarbone. I felt it slide along my skin, disappearing beneath the neckline of my shirt. His eyes followed the raindrop, and I began to quiver on the inside.

One more secret smile. One more shared laugh. One more electric kiss. Finding him was like finding someone I didn't know I was searching for.