Lola’s POV

The pool lights cast a pale glow across the water. Music thumped softly from the house. Laughter rose and fell in little bursts.

Amy’s stare was steady on me. Flint sat beside her, silent and tense. Morgan tipped his head toward the chairs and stretched out like he owned the night.

“If he wants a show,” I muttered, “then fine.”

I moved to his chair. Morgan watched me with bright eyes and mouth already curving. I swung a leg over and straddled him.

I felt the heat of his ...