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I SHOULD'VE LEFT by now. In fact, I should've been left, but there was just something keeping me here, a gut feeling that would always correct me whenever I thought of heading for the door. It never had a solid reason for refusing to let me leave, but I still found myself compelled to listen. Maybe it was just my body thinking this party would filter my breakup with Landon out of my system, or that I was not in the mood to stumble into my empty and lonely house again after being surrounded by people for hours.

          Or maybe, I had a newfound respect for Carter's presence in my life tonight and I didn't know how it would hold up when the sun rose and I was able to look at myself and how I had acted tonight in the light of day.

          It was coming on nearly two o'clock in the morning now and I realized I had been here for quite a few hours. I didn't notice exactly when other people had started clearing out of Carter's house, but looking up and at my surroundings there were probably no more than ten people left as opposed to the forty or so who had been there when I arrived.

          I had no idea how I had allowed the time to pass me by so easily, but then again, tonight wasn't really a night of clarity for me. When the drinking and partying initially made me forget about my breakup with Landon and put it on the back burner for a while, now it had decided to come back to me and I could remember how I idiotically thought he was talking about debate responsibilities. For a nearly perfect student, maybe I was always a bit dumbed down around Carter Abrams.

          Speaking of the devil, I felt like at this point I had to go and find him. So I got up quickly from the couch where I had situated myself only to crash into something hard and feel a wet sensation spread across my upper torso.

          "Fuck," I cursed, falling back down on the couch to look up and see Carter Abrams standing over me with two — now slightly crushed — red Solo cups in his hands.

          "Jesus Christ, Casey," he exasperated, setting the drinks down on the coffee table behind him. "Are you alright? Look where you're going, what the hell. All this liquor wasn't cheap."

          The audacity of this man, my dress wasn't cheap and now it was soaking wet. "I should look where I'm going? How about maybe you shouldn't stand over people with drinks in your hand like an idiot, pal?"

          "Pal?" Carter simply asked, making me realize all at once I had lost this argument.

          "Yeah, that sounded a lot more sassy in my head," I said, rolling my eyes and admitting defeat. Thankfully, Carter's eyes softened as he looked at me, the initial frustration passing over his features and it felt like everything was okay again between us.

          I needed to get my head checked, I was having too many conflicting feelings about Carter and my — extremely limited — relationship with him all at once.

          "Okay, pal," he said with a childish grin that let me know he was never going to let me live that down. "Let me take care of those wet clothes, I'm sure you don't want to be standing around like that all night."

          The night was almost over, or at least it felt like it since I should've been home right now, but I didn't correct him. I didn't want to.

          And not correcting him meant that he was undoing his buttons and shrugging his whole t-shirt off finally after spending the night with it on in varying states of it not being fully buttoned. His bare chest was now exposed to me and the girl in me couldn't help but hawk at least a little, he was just that good looking. And of course he was, given his player reputation and popularity, but this was different.

          Especially different from Landon, who I had only seen shirtless a few times. My ex-boyfriend wasn't a total wimp compared to Carter, but he was a lot more slim compared to Carter's lean, jock build.

          "Yeah, I like my body too," Carter said with a chuckle, making me realize I had totally been staring and also that he had caught me staring. I was too flustered to say anything, so he just draped the shirt off his back over my shoulders. "Here, take this and go change into it in my room."

          He pointed at a far door, one that was situated in his house almost exactly like mine. Of course, and it was probably bigger than mine too.

          "Thanks," I finally mustered up the courage to say to him. "It means a lot, even though you ruined my dress in the first place."

          He rolled his eyes at my accusation but nonetheless, his smile didn't go away. "Just get out of here," he said and gave me a friendly slap on the back.

          I took that as an invitation to awkwardly scoot my way to his room, holding the shirt down on my shoulders with my hands and looking like an idiot while doing it but the few people that were still here seemed to not be paying any mind to me.

          I made it to his bedroom and shut the door behind me, dropping the shirt on the floor and kicking my shoes off before making quick work of the dress's zipper. Sliding it off my body was a relief since the front of it was soaking wet, but now my chest felt cold and damp.

          "Shit," I said, looking up so I could scan the room for some kind of towel I could dry myself with. And that was when I noticed something a lot worse.

          I was not alone in the room.

          No, in fact, the room was occupied the couple I had ran into on the balcony, the ones who were ferociously making out. My worst fears were realized as they had made their way to Carter's bedroom. They stood over by the farthest wall, the girl only her panties while her boyfriend was completely exposed to me, shocked looks on their faces and trying to inch their frontal naughty bits out of my line of vision so as to prevent further scarring.

          Of course, you can't just un-scar someone, because my first instinct was to let out an ugly shriek before covering my eyes and backing against the wall.

          The two of them began to explain themselves to me — or explain that they didn't want me to get them caught in Carter's room — but it was too late. The door to the bedroom swung open and in came Carter with a wild frenzy. His expression sobered in to honest confusion when he saw the scene in the room. Me, standing in my underwear, the not-so-covered couple a few feet away.

          And it hit me then that Carter was seeing me in my underwear, glaring at the couple for a moment before turning his focus back to me with a look on his face that I couldn't read, but made me want to punch him regardless. I blushed, turning my body away from him, not wanting to feel exposed anymore.

          And that seemed to do the trick because the next second, he yelled, "get the hell out of here, you freaks!"

          After their two pairs of footsteps were heard scurrying out of the room, I head Carter's follow them out into the hallway, leaving me alone here.

          "That's it, this party's over," Carter called out into the living room, his statement met with a chorus of groans but sure enough, I heard the door open and people leaving. Of course, he was Carter Abrams, pretty much everyone in our grade seemed to look up to him or fear him. I should've been surprised that they weren't scampering out with their tails between their legs, but maybe they were and I just couldn't see it from inside this room.

          Moments later, the door had slammed shut and I could tell from where I was that it was with finality. Everyone was gone, the party was over, and Carter and I had this whole place to ourselves.

          Of course, I had to go home as well, but that felt so far off from now. It felt like I didn't have to leave and if I did, did I want to?

          Before I could mull it over any further, the door swung open and a shirtless Carter stood there with a soft, sincere smile pulling at his lips. It was a nice moment, for about three seconds until he decided to look down at my body and put on a wolfish grin instead.

          "Hey," I said, snapping my fingers. "My eyes are up here, muchacho."

          "You need to work on sounding more sassy," he teased and maybe I hadn't noticed it until now, but he definitely felt closer than before. "Anyway, I'm sorry for all of that mess, especially that last part. You can go home, Casey, if you like. I'm sure you're tired and just want to crash into bed at this point."

          He was right, I did want to crash into bed, but my bed across the hall seemed so far away. What was wrong with the bed right behind me?

          "I think I'll stay," I offered. "I'm beginning to like it better here."

          "Really?" He chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. "And here I thought you didn't even like me."

          I fixed my face into visible confusion for a moment, but then it hit me. All the effort I had put into avoiding him, especially when he was right across the hall from me? That really was a dick move on my part. I didn't know why I was surprised that he noticed it. Maybe I just thought I wasn't on his radar the way he was on mine.

          "Well, here I am," I said with a playful shrug to avoid getting into the hard stuff. "And now you can't get rid of me."

          The air was hot and the way we stood so close to each other felt as if we were touching when we were not. His gaze on me seemed to almost caress my face, the way he was looking at me felt like he was feeling out my every detail. And it wasn't lost on me that we both just happened to be shirtless.

          "Good," he said after a few seconds, but it felt like forever. "I don't want to."

          I had no idea who started it, whether it was him or I — hell, it maybe even was the alcohol. But before I knew it, our lips had forcefully found their way to each other and our bodies came together. The warm feeling of his lips was intoxicating and I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or just him. Either way, after a moments hesitation, I was suddenly all in, Carter hoisting me up from my thighs so that he could carry me to his bed, not breaking our lips apart as we walked it.

          Carter laid me down on the soft sheets of his bed, causing our lips to separate, but I let no time go to waste. Bringing us back together bit at his lips against mine, sucking on the flesh and causing Carter to moan unintelligibly against my mouth. We kissed hotly for a few seconds and I couldn't believe how wet it was, how experienced someone like Carter Abrams could be as their tongues tangled and breaths mingled. On the bed, my leg slid up over his, wrapping around his thighs and trapping him so that if I wanted to roll over, I had leverage to, something which Carter didn't even deny me, instead focused on running his hands up my arms, his skin hotly slicking mine. At this point his was pressed all up against me and I could feel the taut muscles of his chest as well as other details like the ridge of his erection in the jeans he wore and the rough fabric bristling against my skin, creating friction with the hairs on mine. I belatedly realized I had forgot to shave my legs, but Carter didn't seem to care so maybe it wasn't worth fussing over.

          All I was really acute to in the moment was Carter's hand slipping from my notice until it was gripping the bare skin of my leg and pulling her closer to him, my front now brushing up against his taut member and I swore on everything I could feel how ribbed it was through the fabric.

          I pulled back with a wet smack of our lips, my eyes glazed over from desire and heat, staring Carter in the face. It was crazy, really, how I had let things reach this point. Especially with Carter, who a few hours ago, was the last person I would talk to, much less even kiss. Sure, I had experience with Landon, but never like this, never so feral and intoxicating, never like I was making the best-worst mistake of my life.

          Then again, it was only one night. After tonight, everything would be back to normal. Right?

          My voice was hoarse when I whispered against his mouth, throwing all caution to the wind, "I want you."

          He smirked lazily, clearly still trying to collect himself. "Right back at you," he said in an equally breathless and gritty voice.

          With that, he descended back onto me.