Chapter 3

The party at Dylan’s house was already in full swing by the time Jasmine and I arrived. Music pulsed through the walls, blending with the hum of chatter and bursts of laughter spilling onto the front lawn. Dylan’s house was just as extravagant as I had imagined—a sprawling two-story with tall windows that gleamed like jewels under the moonlight. The Sinclair estate was larger, sure, but it didn’t have the same carefree energy this place seemed to radiate.

I parked my car along the curb and Jasmine threw me a giddy grin as we stepped out. “This is going to be so much fun,” she said, practically bouncing in her strappy heels.

I smoothed the hem of my dress, a sleek black number that hugged my figure just enough to be elegant. “Let’s hope,” I murmured, tugging at the strap of my purse. Parties weren’t really my thing, but Jasmine had been insistent. Apparently, I needed to “live a little” before my senior year started in earnest.

Jasmine led the way, weaving through the throng of people clustered near the front steps. I followed closely, feeling a twinge of apprehension as the noise grew louder. Stepping inside, I was greeted by a kaleidoscope of colors and motion. The living room had been transformed into a makeshift dance floor, packed with swaying bodies and flashing lights.

“Come on,” Jasmine said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the kitchen. “We need drinks before we do anything else.”

I let her drag me through the crowd, trying not to bump into anyone. The kitchen was just as chaotic, but at least it wasn’t as loud. A long table had been set up with an assortment of drinks and snacks. Jasmine poured herself a cup of something red and bubbly, then turned to me with a raised brow. “You want one?”

“Just water,” I said, earning an eye roll.

“You’re no fun,” she teased, but handed me a bottle of water anyway.

Leaning against the counter, I scanned the room. Dylan was easy to spot, holding court near the fridge with a group of guys. His wide smile and loud laughter made it clear he was in his element. He caught sight of me and waved, and I offered a polite nod in return. Jasmine had been right about him—he was charming in a way that bordered on cocky.

My attention shifted to the blond guy standing next to him. He was quieter, his smile less practiced but more genuine. He wasn’t dressed as sharply as Dylan or the others; his faded jeans and plain t-shirt made him stand out, but not in a bad way.

“Who’s that?” I asked Jasmine, nodding toward him.

She followed my gaze and smirked. “Luke O’Connor. Works at some garage downtown. He’s one of Dylan’s best friends, but he’s not exactly part of our crowd.”

“What do you mean?”

Jasmine shrugged. “You know, working class. Blue-collar type.”

I frowned at her dismissive tone but didn’t say anything. Instead, I kept watching him. He seemed out of place, like he wasn’t sure if he belonged here. Yet, there was a quiet confidence in the way he carried himself.

“Elle?” Jasmine’s voice broke my train of thought. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “I’m fine.”

But I wasn’t. Not really. Something about Luke O’Connor had me feeling… unsettled. And I wasn’t sure why.

Luke

Dylan’s parties were always loud, messy, and more crowded than they should be. This one was no different. By the time Charlie and I arrived, the place was packed. People were spilling out onto the lawn, red Solo cups in hand, shouting over the music that thumped through the house like a heartbeat.

“This is insane,” Charlie said, grinning as he surveyed the scene. “Dylan’s really outdone himself this time.”

I shrugged, sticking my hands in my pockets. Parties weren’t really my thing, but Dylan had practically dragged me here. “Yeah. Insane.”

Charlie gave me a look. “Come on, man. Try to have some fun for once.”

“I’ll try,” I said, though I wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic.

We made our way inside, dodging dancers and couples making out in corners. The air was thick with heat and the smell of spilled beer. Dylan spotted us from across the room and waved us over.

“Luke! Charlie!” he called, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “About time you showed up.”

“Had to make an entrance,” Charlie joked, clapping Dylan on the back.

I stayed quiet, scanning the room. That’s when I saw her.

She was standing by the kitchen counter, sipping from a bottle of water while her friend chattered away. Her dark curls framed her face perfectly, and her dress hugged her figure in a way that made it impossible not to look. She was beautiful, sure, but it was more than that. There was a grace about her, a quiet confidence that drew me in.

Dylan must’ve noticed where my attention had drifted, because he leaned in, smirking. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, already regretting it.

“Elle Sinclair,” he said, as if her name explained everything. “She’s way out of your league, man. Trust me, not a chance.”

“I wasn’t—” I started, but he cut me off.

“Relax. I’m not saying you’re not a great guy. But Elle? She’s… different. You know?”

I didn’t know, but I nodded anyway. “Yeah. Sure.”

Dylan clapped me on the shoulder. “Good. Because I’ve got plans for her.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Of course Dylan liked her. Who wouldn’t? Dylan was a charmer but hearing him say it made something inside me jealous for some reason.

Charlie nudged me. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

No, I wasn’t. I actually wanted her actually, even if Dylan gets in the way of it.