“Maybe if you could put him on mute… and cut off his hands… maybe—just maybe—he’d be tolerable then.”

“Wesley Rush was the most disgusting womanizing playboy to ever darken the doorstep of Hamilton High… but he was kind of hot. Maybe if you could put him on mute… and cut off his hands… maybe—just maybe—he’d be tolerable then. Otherwise, he was a real piece of shit. Horn dog shit.”

“Then maybe I'll hit on this sweaty, oversexed football player. Maybe we'll have meaningful discussions about politics and philosophy while we bump 'n grind. Ugh. Yeah, right.”

“Bianca, whore is just a cheap word people use to cut each other down," he said. His voice softer. "It makes them feel better about their own mistakes. Using words like that is easier than really looking into the situation. I promise you, you're not a whore."I looked at him, into his warm gray eyes, and suddently understood what he was trying to tell me. The message hidden beneath the words.You're not alone.”

“I took Russian in high school,” Nathan said, climbing out of the pool. He’d decided to swim laps that afternoon instead of going to the gym. “Did you?” Harrison asked, grinning at him. “Yeah.” Nathan grabbed his towel from the little patio table and began dabbing at his face. “But the only thing I remember is, Mozhno li kopirovat vashi domashnie zodaneeye?” “Let me guess,” I said. “You just asked me where the bathroom is, right?” “No.” He scoffed, flicking his wet towel at me. “I was beyond that basic stuff. I took two years of it. Give me some credit.” “Then what does it mean?” I asked. “It means, ‘Can I copy your homework?”

“By the time we reached the front door of the party house—a total mansion, like Harrison had said—Nathan was far behind us. Well, he’d promised to stay out of our hair. “Wow,” I heard Bailey gasp as the front door swung open for us, though I wasn’t sure if that was her reaction to the freakishly large house or to the drop-dead-gorgeous guy standing in front of us. “Good evening, ladies,” he said, stepping aside to let us enter. Automatically, I found myself standing up taller and sliding my shoulder blades back for optimum cleavage exposure. It was like a flirting reflex. I just wished I wasn’t all sunburned. “Hello to you.” He grinned at me. A cocky, sexy grin. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said. He glanced at Bailey then. “Any of us. I’m sure I’d remember those pretty faces.” I swear, Bailey was blushing so hard I could feel the heat radiating from her body. “Oh, you’d remember,” I agreed, tossing back my hair and putting a hand on my hip. “I’m Whi—” “Whitley!” I jumped and spun around involuntarily. Harrison was standing beside me, looking thoroughly delighted. “Hello again, darling. You look gorgeous—and the lack of flip-flops is making my day. Those slingbacks are perfect!” I nodded, glancing over my shoulder at the hot guy, but he’d already moved on and was chatting with a group of kids a few feet away. Goddamn it. “Wesley is just so busy,” Harrison said, following my gaze. “You have to give him credit for being a great host. He talks to everyone. Seems like way too much work to me.”

“How would you know?" I demanded, splashing water in Harrison's face. "You were watching him, too.""Too!" he cried. "I got you! Ha. You just admitted you were watching him. You love him. You so love him.”