Free Blue Smoke by Nora Roberts

Brad blocked him. “Out of my way, I’m about to brighten a couple of female hearts.”
    â€œTold you you’d have a good time. Listen, I’m about to have a better one. Cammie and I are heading out, to her place. And I believe it’s not presumptuous to say, Score.”
    Bo looked at his pal, noted the about-to-get-laid gleam behind thelenses of Brad’s glasses. “You’re ditching me in a houseful of strangers so you can go get naked with a girl?”
    â€œAbsolutely.”
    â€œWell, that’s reasonable. She kicks your ass out though, don’t call me. Find your own way home.”
    â€œWon’t be a problem. She’s just gone to get her purse, so—”
    â€œWait.” Bo’s hand curled hard around Brad’s arm as he saw the blonde—just a glimpse at first—through the crowd. A sexy tumble of wild curls the color of good, natural oak. She was laughing, and her skin—it looked like porcelain—was flushed along the high curve of her cheekbones.
    He could see the shape of her lips and the little mole above them. It was as if his vision had sharpened, had telescoped, and he could see the details of her through the haze of smoke, the crowd of faces. Long eyes he thought were almost exactly the same shade of her hair, a long, slim nose. And that luscious curve of lips. Gold hoops at her ears. Two in the left, one in the right.
    She was tall—maybe she was wearing heels, he couldn’t see her feet. But he could see the chain around her neck holding some sort of stone or crystal, the outline of her breasts against a dark pink top.
    For an instant, maybe two, the music stopped for him. The room went silent.
    Then someone stepped into his line of vision and it all came roaring back.
    â€œWho is that girl?”
    â€œWhich girl?” Absently Brad looked over his shoulder, then shrugged it. “Place is crawling with them. Hey, next time you take a side trip, take me along.”
    â€œWhat?” Still dazzled, Bo looked down. He could barely remember his friend’s name. “I gotta . . . here.” He pushed the beer into Brad’s hand and started shoving his way through the crowd.
    By the time he got to where she’d been, there was no sign of her. A kind of panic bubbled in his throat as he maneuvered his way into the kitchen, a dining room where people sat at, on and under the table.
    â€œDid a girl come through here? Tall blonde, curly hair, pink shirt.”
    â€œNobody’s come in but you.” A girl with a short wedge of black hair sent him a sultry smile. “But I can be blond.”
    â€œMaybe some other time.”
    He searched the house, all the way to the third floor, and all the way down again where he circled both the front and back yards.
    He found blondes, he found curls. But he never found the one who’d made the music stop.
    S he was driving with her heart in her throat. She thought it was good that she was driving herself. It showed that she wasn’t being swept along, that she was making a choice. She was in control of her actions, the consequences.
    Making love the first time, every time, should be a choice.
    She only wished she had thought ahead enough to have bought some sexy underwear.
    Josh lived in an off-campus apartment, and his roommate was pulling an all-nighter with a study group. When he’d told her that—he’d been kissing her when he told her that—she’d been the one to say, Let’s go there.
    She was the one who’d made the move. And she was the one beginning a new phase of her life. But it didn’t stop her hands from trembling a little.
    She parked a few spaces down from where he pulled in, carefully turned off the engine, picked up her purse. She knew exactly what she was doing, she reminded herself, illustrating it by locking her car, placing her keys in the little inside pocket where she always kept them.
    She smiled when