I follow Chris onto the stairwell, but he stops me halfway down. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” I lean against the railing. “What’s up?”

“It’s about the other night, at the party.”

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering … I mean, it seemed like you and Jerod left early, so …”

He noticed when we left? Despite the throngs of friends and admirers? “So?”

“Did you go somewhere else? Or home? Or did you, I don’t know … drive around or whatever?”

“Or whatever?” Is it my imagination, or is Chris trying to figure out whether Jerod and I kissed … or whatever? “Would you care to define that?”

“Lexi, I’m not playing.” He takes a step toward me, his face serious. “I’m worried about you. I think this guy could be bad news.”

I gently push him away. “I assure you, Jerod has been a total gentleman.” It’s true. He never made a single move on me all night. If Jerod’s a player, he’s the lamest player ever. Either that, or maybe he’s like Chris. Maybe he doesn’t really see me as a girl. I push the thought away, bat my lashes at Chris, and pull my best Vivian Leigh imitation. “I do thank you for the concern, though, kind sir.”

Chris appears genuinely relieved. I’d love to imagine it’s because he’s jealous, but I know better. He’s playing the protective best friend. “Whoa. Wait a minute.” He leans toward me, a scowl crossing his face. “What’s this?” He touches the side of my neck, and my hand flies up to the spot.

Jerod and I never even kissed. No way could I have a hickey, but the suggestion that I might and the brush of Chris’s fingertips against my skin set my cheeks on fire. I push him away. “You’re crazy.”

His eyes sparkle, and he laughs. “Gotcha.” He taps at the tip of my nose, but he’s too slow for my superior reflexes, and I reach up and grab him. It truly is a reflex, and once I’m holding his hand, I’m not quite sure what to do with it. My brain is shouting, Let it go! Let it go! But my body is frozen.

Chris twines our fingers together until it’s hard to tell whose hand is doing the holding and whose is being held. When he speaks, his voice is soft and low. “Promise you’ll be careful, okay?

And you won’t do anything you don’t want to do. And you’ll call me if you ever need backup.”

I want to tell him not to worry, but he’s so close, and his hand feels so perfect in mine, I can’t speak. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.

He leans toward me, his eyes searching mine for … what? I know Chris better than anyone else on earth and can read his every expression, but he’s never looked at me like this before. My heart races and I tilt my head back slightly, and I swear his eyes focus on my lips. Is he going to kiss me?