“Wolf Sausage,” a guy said from behind.
When I turned back to see who was speaking, my heart skipped a beat. It was him. The guy from the balcony.
The first thing I noticed—after his eyes, which I could finally see up close were an amazing dark golden brown—was how tall he was. While I’m on the short side, he stood nearly a foot taller than me, and the way he kept his chestnut hair pushed back probably added another inch to him.
He had this imposing presence to him, even though his tone had been friendly, and part of me felt like I should be afraid. It wasn’t that he was handsome—though he was. Dark arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, and a hint of something devilish playing on the smile on his lips—almost like Jim Morrison but with his short hair tamed instead of Morrison’s uncontrolled mane.
I couldn’t really define it—not what should’ve frightened me about him, and not what made me defy that fear. But it was there, quickening my pulse and heightening my senses, and I found myself smiling back at him.
“What?” I asked before I’d gone too long staring at him without speaking.
“The painting,” he said, but he kept his eyes on me. “It’s by Jean-Michel Basquiat, and it’s called Wolf Sausage.”
I glanced back at the picture and noticed that both the words “wolf” and “sausage” had been written on it several times. “That seems like an apt title.”
“Yeah, it is.” An amused smile curled up at the edge of his lips, but his eyes narrowed slightly, as if inspecting me. “I saw you outside.”
“You may have,” I said, pretending not to know what he was talking about. “I was enjoying the night air.”
“Are you a friend of Selena’s, then?” he asked.
Before I could answer, he reached out suddenly and pushed me to the side so a few people could get by. They were laughing loudly and liquid sloshed out of their plastic cups. I would’ve found myself covered in beer if he hadn’t moved me out of the way.
To save me from getting soaked, he’d put his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. Our bodies weren’t touching—not exactly, but when he breathed deeply, his chest pressed against mine.
I considered staying in his arms, but that would probably seem creepy and weird since we’d just met. As soon as the people had gone by, I moved away from him, and he dropped his arm.
“So you never answered my question,” he said. “Are you friends with Selena?”
“Kind of, I guess. I just met her.”
“Hmm,” he said, almost as if he didn’t believe me, and I met his gaze evenly. “How did you get invited to this party exactly?”
“There you are!” Selena shouted, saving me from an explanation, as she hurried over to us with a can of Pepsi. “I was afraid you’d left.”
“Nope. I’m still here,” I said.
She handed me the can. “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d like, so I hope this is fine.”
I smiled. “Pepsi is great, thanks.”
“So. I see you met my little brother.” Selena put her elbow on his shoulder, attempting to lean on him, but since he was much taller than her too, it left her at a comically awkward angle. “I don’t know what Mom and Dad fed him as a kid, but he just wouldn’t stop growing.”
He glanced down at his sister. “We were just talking about how you two know each other.”
“Logan is completely smashed, and she helped me haul him inside,” Selena explained, straightening up so she wasn’t leaning on him so inelegantly.
“And yet Logan is still the best boyfriend you’ve had so far,” he said with a thin smile.
Selena swatted him on the arm, but kept her attention on me. “I know you said your name outside, but I’m sorry, it’s totally slipped my mind.”
“Mara,” I said.
“Mara?” her brother repeated.
I nodded. “Mara Beznik.”
“Gabe Alvarado.” He held his hand out for me to shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” I said as his hand enveloped mine.
“And I’m Selena Alvarado.” She leaned forward, interjecting her hand, so I shook it. “Anyway. This is my party, so I should mingle. But I do hope you stay and have fun.” She stepped back, then clapped Gabe on the arm. “Play nice.”
“I always do,” he told her.
“Well, I don’t want to be a party crasher,” I said after Selena had disappeared into the party. “I should probably head out.”
“You’re not crashing,” Gabe insisted. “You promised my sister you’d stay for a drink, so you should at the very least do that.”
“I guess I can.” I opened the soda and sipped slowly from it. “So this is your house?”
“Well, my parents’ house, but yeah, I live here with them and my sister.” He looked around, as if noticing how grand the house was for the first time.