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at me. “Ready?” she asks, throwing her slender arms around me in a hug.

“As I’ll ever be,” I say, letting her in. Michelle pulls out a glass jar from her bag and sets it on the coffee table.

“How does this work, exactly, don’t you already have the dares picked out for each couple?” I ask, eyeing the papers in the glass.

Michelle leans in and taps her nose with a devilish grin.

“Can you keep a secret?”

No. I am the worst person on the planet at keeping secrets. She knows that. But despite myself, I nod like an over-enthusiastic puppy. Michelle shakes her head with a laugh.

“You know what, I’ll tell you at the end.”

Before I can argue my case, the doorbell rings again and there are suddenly butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I swallow and smooth out my pink knee-length dress as I hurry to the front door again.

“Hey, you two,” I say through a fake grin as Debbie and Mark walk in. Once again, joined at the hip.

Mark slinks his arm around Debbie, who strokes his chest like she can’t stop touching him.

“Oh cute, you put up bunting,” Debbie says looking up at the pink and white decorations. Mark wastes no time helping himself to a drink as the doorbell rings again. This time, Jonah and Ryder file in. Katia follows, handing me a casserole dish wrapped in foil.

“Just made a little something,” she says with a casual shrug. She’s the best cook in the group. I give it a sniff and my insides quiver with excitement. There is nothing better than Katia’s homemade lasagne.

I hover near the door as everyone settles in the living room, lost in casual conversation. How is everyone else so calm, and blissfully unaware of my frayed nerves? Jonah turns on the HiFi and plays some awful rock music. The steady thump of the beat pounds my chest and I glance at the clock in the hall.

He’s late.

“Shall we get started?” Michelle asks, lifting the jar from the coffee table. Everyone gathers on the couch and make noises of intrigue as Jonah lowers the volume on the HiFi. I watch them from the hall, a trembling mess.

“Cameron isn’t here yet,” I say, trying hard to keep my voice steady. Thank goodness for acting. I pretend that I’m just pointing out the fact, keeping my expression neutral and hoping no one sees past the act. Inside, I’m full of jitters.

“He’s always late,” Ryder mutters, his dark brows furrowed. “Besides, he’s not gonna mind missing out on this,” he adds.

Ryder is a nice guy. He’s introverted and a bit of a nerd. But he’s always been down-to-earth and never said anything to hurt me.

Until now.

Cameron won’t miss this. It’s supposed to be my turn. Sure, we started with spin the bottle, but Michelle promised me I could go next. And who am I gonna choose to do the dare with if Cameron isn’t here?

Well, it sure isn’t going to be Ryder. His dark eyes move back to his laptop screen, the harsh glare illuminates his face and I can’t see even a hint of regret. He probably has no idea that he’s now earned himself a new title.

Ryder Black, Crusher of Dreams.

“We can wait,” Katia suggests, looking at me like I’m a lost puppy. I realize my nonchalant expression has slipped into a devastated frown. Katia is also the empath of the group, and judging by the fact that no one else is even looking my way, I think she’s the only one who catches my reaction.

I fix my smile and march into the living area.

“Should we tell them?” Mark says, looking at Debbie with a wicked grin.

Debbie's hand flies to her chest. “Now?” she asks. A sparkle blinds me for a second and I rub my eyes like a cartoon character, then I gawp at her.

“Is that…?” I blurt. But Katia interrupts me, grabbing her twin sister’s hand and staring at it open-mouthed.

“You got engaged!”

The words ring in my ears like the Bells of Notre Dame. A few weeks ago, Debbie and Mark were at each other’s throats. Now they’re getting married.

I’m not sure whether I feel inspired or depressed by the revelation.

“Congratulations,” I force out as everyone else rallies around them.

I glance at the hall, wondering if anyone might notice if I creep out of the room and hide. Without Cameron here to flirt with, this party is going to be an incredible bore. Now the conversation moves on to the topic of wedding dresses and who will be a bridesmaid, and my night goes from dull to unbearable.

The doorbell rings and I leap to my feet as if I’ve been zapped by an electric eel.

Oh, the sweet shrill tones of my doorbell to the rescue!

“That’ll be the pizza,” I exclaim, smiling genuinely now. The thought of a greasy stuffed crust pepperoni pizza to dip into a slice of Katia’s rich lasagna is enough to turn any frown upside down. Cameron thinks it’s gross to dip pizza in lasagna, but to me, it’s heaven. My stomach does a little excited dance as I swagger to the door with my wallet.

“You’re my hero!” I boldly claim as I pull the door open, thumbing through the dollar bills. “How much do I owe you?” I look up from my wallet and my mouth falls open.

It’s not the pizza guy.

“Well, seeing as you brought it up, you still owe me twenty dollars for the movie last month.”

Cameron James grins at me from my doorstep. I pause for a split second to take in his dark, ruffled hair and his casual shirt half-tucked into his black jeans. His stubbled jaw makes him look like a modern-day pirate, and despite the awkward encounter, all I want to do is grab him by the collar and pull him in for a long-overdue first kiss.

I lick my lips instinctively as the thought crosses my mind, and I stand frozen, unable to form a sentence.

“Sorry I’m late,” Cameron says, stepping in. I’m still blocking the doorway though and he stops, his

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