Alyssa's PoV:

Moments before

"Cause you are the dancing queen!" I belted out, my voice carrying over the music as I twirled around, laughing and feeling the beat surge through me.

"YOUNG AND SWEET!" Luke shouted, echoing my excitement with even more enthusiasm.

"ONLY 17!" we both sang in unison, hitting the high note perfectly as if we were some rockstars in the making.

I couldn't help it—my laughter was uncontrollable as Luke started doing some strange dance moves, completely in his element and not caring what anyone thought. It was like a crazy, carefree burst of energy that filled the room with lightness.

"What is that?" I laughed, struggling to keep my balance as he performed a ridiculous shimmy.

"It's the dancing worm!" he announced, making an absurd twisting motion with his body.

I burst into laughter, holding my stomach as I doubled over. "That is so bad!" I teased, trying to catch my breath.

"What is that?" Nate asked from the sidelines, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"It's my worm!" Luke grinned, completely unashamed, striking a pose.

Nate rolled his eyes. "That doesn't sound good at all."

"Alright, alright," I said, taking charge. "Let's show these boys how it's done." I turned to Nate with a mischievous smile, and we both nodded. We started pulling out moves from the "Just Dance" routine to Dancing Queen, in perfect sync. Our choreography was sharp, full of energy, and we could hear the crowd cheering us on.

The music flowed on, and we were putting on a mini-performance for the group. Luke was there, cheering, spinning, and joining in where he could. We weren't just dancing, we were living in the moment—letting the music take us as we showed off some seriously coordinated moves.

The alcohol was definitely starting to kick in, the buzz warming me from the inside, making everything feel a bit more carefree and exciting. The shots we had taken earlier were doing their job—Luke and Jaden had been handing out drinks like they were candy, and with each glass, my inhibitions lowered a little more.

"You guys are amazing!" Cameron shouted, raising his drink to us, his voice full of genuine admiration.

I couldn't stop smiling, feeling like the center of attention in the best possible way. Nate grinned at me, matching my energy as we spun and jumped in time to the music.

"You know, they know this like the back of their hands," Selena said, teasingly, to the guys.

"Yeah, we're like... dance masters or something," I winked, not even caring how ridiculous it sounded. We were owning it, and nothing else mattered.

As the song carried on, the room was full of excitement, but before long, the music shifted to another ABBA hit—Take A Chance on Me.

"I'm in heaven," I sighed dramatically, mouthing the words as the melody started. My heart raced. ABBA was my weakness, and this song was one of my favorites.

The whole group gathered in a tight circle, dancing and singing together, enjoying the song as much as I did. But then, Luke pulled me aside, and suddenly, everything seemed to slow down.

His voice was low but sincere. "Do you think you could take a chance on me?" His gaze locked with mine, and for a split second, everything went quiet. I froze, blinking in confusion. Did he just say that?

"What?" I stuttered, my mind racing. I couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened. This was Luke. He was like a brother to me—so why did that feel... different?

Luke quickly changed his words, clearly realizing how offbeat it sounded. "Oh, I changed the words," he mumbled, visibly flustered. "I meant, do you think there's anyone out there who would take a chance on me?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What's with the sudden depressive talk?" I laughed, trying to brush it off as if it was nothing.

He groaned dramatically, slumping his shoulders. "I'm serious, Alyssa. I'm alone, and still free. I need someone."

I shook my head, feeling a surge of affection for him. "Luke, that doesn't sound like you at all," I said softly, reaching out to touch his arm.

He looked at me, eyes full of vulnerability. "If by 50, I'm alone and still without someone, will you marry me? So I can at least die with a ring on my finger?" His voice cracked, and I couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous he was being, but my heart still ached for him.

"Are you really this dramatic?" I chuckled, brushing his hair out of his face. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, even if it sometimes came out in strange ways.

"I know, I know. But seriously, I need someone," Luke whimpered, looking up at me with teary eyes. I wasn't sure if he was completely sober anymore.

Nate, who had been listening in from the sidelines, jumped in. "No way. I made that deal first, Luke," he said, poking fun at our exchange.

Luke's pout deepened, and then he suddenly threw his head into my shoulder. "I should just find someone tonight," he sobbed. "A girl, any girl, anyone."

"If you're available for boys, I'm here," Nate teased, raising his hand playfully.

I watched the interaction with amusement, but then something strange happened—Luke's grip on my hand tightened, his eyes widening as if he'd noticed something he hadn't before. He froze, staring at Nate and me, and I felt a wave of tension between us, like the calm before a storm.

But before anything could happen—before the situation could get more complicated—something else pulled me away from the moment.

A hand grasped mine firmly, and suddenly, I was being pulled out of the circle and into the night air. My mind scrambled. Who the hell was this?

It only took a second to recognize the hand, the firm grip, the familiar warmth.

Mason.

"Wait, what are you doing?" I asked, my voice shaking slightly as he pulled me away. I looked back over my shoulder at Luke and Nate, wondering if they even noticed I was gone.

Mason didn't answer immediately, and we continued walking outside, the chill of the night air making me shiver. Finally, he spoke.

"I needed a smoke," he said casually, as if dragging me away from my friends in the middle of a conversation was completely normal.

I was furious. "Are you kidding me? You dragged me out of the dance floor for a smoke?"

He shrugged, indifferent. "Yes."

I couldn't believe it. "Couldn't your friend, I don't know, Cady, come out here with you instead?" I snapped, trying to contain my anger.

Mason's expression turned dark, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Cady isn't my friend."

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling a rush of annoyance. "Then what is she to you?"

He didn't seem to care much about my frustration. He leaned against a bench, placing his glass down and taking out a cigarette. "What are all these questions, Alyssa? Weren't we supposed to be looking for someone else tonight?"

I glared at him. "But I didn't say I couldn't ask questions."

He smirked. "You're funny," he said, tapping the end of his cigarette.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

"You're confusing," he added, taking a drag. "And for some reason... I like it."

I felt a small flutter in my chest, but I refused to let it show. "Did you bring me here to talk bad about me?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"No," he replied with a grin, his eyes twinkling. "I brought you here because your brother hates it when other guys—especially Luke—touch you."

I raised an eyebrow, confused. "You held my hand too."

Mason's smile widened, his gaze locking onto mine. "But I have permission."

I scoffed. "My brother is so blind about you," I muttered. "If he knew what you did to me, he would've freaked out."

Mason's smirk deepened, and I could see the amusement flicker in his eyes. "What did I do to you?"

I shrugged. "You know."

His face leaned in, and he tilted his head. "I want to hear you say it."

I couldn't help the way my heart beat faster as his eyes locked on mine. I refused to back down.

"I'm not saying it," I said firmly, though my voice wavered slightly under the intensity of his gaze.

Mason chuckled, clearly enjoying this. "Fine, then it's a well-kept secret."

"Nice choice of words," I said, rolling my eyes in defeat.

"Thanks, princess," he grinned, as if nothing in the world could ruin his mood.

I hated how much that smile got under my skin, how easily it made my defenses crumble.

"Are you ready to go?" Mason asked, flicking the ashes from his cigar with practiced ease.

"I've been ready since the moment I got here," I replied sharply, folding my arms in front of me.

"Are you still looking for your 'someone else'?" His tone carried a weight that hit a nerve. He knew exactly how to prod at me, how to peel back layers I wasn't ready to expose.

"Yeah, just like you," I shot back, striding ahead of him, my heels echoing against the floor as we entered the long corridor. It was dimly lit, designed to mimic a night sky, tiny pinpricks of light flickering overhead like distant stars.

"So, are you betting on Roacher again?" he asked, his words laced with derision.

I froze mid-step and turned to him, narrowing my eyes. "Have you seriously not forgotten about him?"

"No. How could I? You got sick for him, didn't you?"

I felt my stomach twist, a mix of anger and embarrassment bubbling to the surface. "I got sick because my brother was being an idiot, not because of Chase - that is his name by the way"

"Whatever, and you weren't risking your health for some weedhead?" he pressed, his voice a mixture of accusation and disbelief.

"What is your problem, Mason?" I demanded, finally stopping to face him. My voice echoed in the corridor, but I didn't care.

"You," he said simply, his tone steady but intense. "You are my problem. But you already knew that."

My breath hitched, but I refused to let him see how his words affected me. "Can't we just be on the same page for once?"

"I don't know," he said, his gaze unwavering. "You still haven't told me what you want."

"It doesn't matter what I want," I snapped, feeling my walls crack under the weight of his scrutiny.

"It matters to me." His response was immediate, firm, and relentless.

"Why do you insist on complicating everything?" I asked, exasperated. I could feel him moving closer, his steps deliberate and slow, his presence consuming every inch of the space between us.

"Because it's what I do," he said, his voice low and steady. "I complicate things. And you—you make them confusing."

"You know we can't," I whispered, my resolve faltering under the intensity of his gaze.

"I'll do whatever you want," he said softly, his voice barely above a breath. "But only if you tell me what you want."

He was so close now that our breaths mingled, his scent wrapping around me, intoxicating and overwhelming. His eyes, deep and rich like the perfect shade of brown, bore into mine, searching for answers I wasn't sure I could give.

"What do you want, Alyssa?" he asked again, and this time, the sound of my name rolling off his tongue sent a shiver down my spine.

The question hung in the air, heavier than it should have been. My name from his lips felt like a spell, leaving me powerless and rooted to the spot. My mind screamed at me to look away, to say something, anything, to break the moment, but my body betrayed me.

He leaned closer, his face inches from mine, his breath steady while mine turned erratic. My heart raced, threatening to leap out of my chest. His eyes flicked to my lips, and for a fleeting second, I knew I was caving, falling into him despite all the warnings blaring in my head.

But then, like a bolt of lightning cutting through a storm, a voice shattered the trance.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the voice boomed, echoing through the hall, "I hope you're all having a fantastic evening and enjoying the wonderful music we've had so far."

The spell broke. I blinked, stepping back as reality came rushing in. My breath hitched as I looked away, desperate to regain composure.

Mason lingered for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on mine with an intensity that promised this wasn't over. Then, with an almost imperceptible smirk, he stepped back, leaving me standing there, shaken and breathless, as the night carried on around us.