“Oh, Lexi,” I breathed out, very reminiscent of what she’d done the day I had gone to my first dance with Jeremy. “You look beautiful.”

“You think?” she asked nervously as she smoothed her skirt out.

I’d joined in with Jeremy on the ’80s theme, having lucked out that Mom still had an old bridesmaid dress that was pink, poofy, and utterly ridiculous. I loved it. Lexi, however, had decided to stick with the times. The svelte, black dress she’d chosen fit her slim frame perfectly. White flowers adorned the left side. It made her tan skin glow and accentuated her best features.

“Absolutely. You look amazing,” I informed her, giving her another once-over. “Jace’s jaw is going to drop to the floor when he sees you. I hope I’m there to witness it.”

Her eyes raced to meet mine, and she brought her hands to her stomach. “Jace? I’m going with Aaron. You know that.”

I waved her off. “Whatever. I’ve seen the way both guys watch you. Jace will definitely be checking you out.”

“Sierra, how many times do I have to tell you?”

“You’re just friends, blah. You know, that’s what Jeremy and I always said.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s going to Alabama in the fall.”

I rolled my eyes. “Tuscaloosa isn’t that far away. And isn’t that more of a reason to tell him how you feel now?”

She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m with Aaron.”

I wanted to grasp her shoulders and shake some sense into her, but if she wanted to live in denial, I guess she’d have to figure it out for herself. I just hoped it would happen sooner rather than later.

“Okay, okay. I’ll shut up about it.”

Lexi cleared her throat and darted towards the hall. “Excuse me. I need to retouch my mascara,” she said, not looking in my direction.

It was my turn to sigh. Perhaps I’d been wrong in not letting Jeremy meddle. Jace and Lexi had been riding this friendship train for way too long, and it was only a matter of time until it derailed.

“Oh, honey, you look so beautiful.” Mom standing in the doorway. “And that dress looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

I grinned. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe one day you can wear it to my wedding,” I teased.

She laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe my little girl is going to her last school dance,” Mom said, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “It feels like just yesterday that Jeremy was picking you up for homecoming. And here you are, nearly three years later. Soon, you’ll be graduating and starting your own life. I’m not old enough for this.”

I smiled at her. “You knew even back then that Jeremy and I would end up together, didn’t you?”

“Honey, if you think Lydia and I haven’t been planning your wedding for years, you’re crazy.” She laughed, and I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. But, knowing our moms, I was pretty sure she was serious.

“Do you think it’s crazy? That I found the person I want to spend my life at the age of eight? I know in my heart that Jeremy’s it for me. Is that insane?”

She tilted her head, her lips curling in a Mom-knows-best kinda smile. “For most people, yes. I’d call it crazy. The logical woman inside me wants to tell you that you need to experience more, but I know what I see when I look at you two, and that’s the real deal. Just do me a favor.”

I waited for her to continue.

“Just don’t go eloping on graduation day or anything like that.”

I laughed. “Mom, trust me. As much as I love Jeremy and can’t wait to be Mrs. Banks, I have no desire to be a teenage bride. I can absolutely promise you I won’t get married on graduation day.”

“Good. Because, when you do become Mrs. Jeremy Banks, you will make the most beautiful bride. But I’m still not wearing that dress.”

The doorbell rang, and Lexi squealed in the hallway.

Mom glanced back at me. “I want you to have fun tonight, but keep an eye on her?”

“I would’ve even if you hadn’t asked. And Jeremy will, too.”

The sound of Dad’s booming laugh echoed down the hall, and I was suddenly eager as ever to see Jeremy.

When I stepped into the room, Jeremy sucked in a deep breath. It wasn’t a magical, eye-opening, enlightening experience like it had been with homecoming. We’d seen each other through multiple dances, but it still sent a little fluttering throughout my belly to know that, regardless of how many times he saw me all dolled up, I still affected him. That was one of the many things I loved about Jeremy. He always made me feel beautiful.

“You look gorgeous, Sierra. Just like your mother,” he announced for the whole room to hear.

Mom chuckled, shaking her head, and Dad, who’d been standing right next to him, elbowed him right in the side. He let out a little, “Oof,” but it didn’t dampen the grin on his face.

“Sorry, Nick.”

I stared at his shoes, not quite sure if I was ready for the big reveal. Instead, I slowly raked my gaze up, enjoying the way his powder-blue suit fit him perfectly, showing off his firm legs, his lean waist, and his toned arms. I hesitated when I got to his chest before I finally mustered up the courage to look up.

I laughed.

Like, laughed out loud. Bent-over, clutching-my-side, couldn’t-catch-my-breath type laughing.

Jeremy frowned and gingerly patted the top of his hair so as not to mess it up.

It was perfection.

Part of me wondered if he’d printed out a photo of John Stamos circa 1988 and told the stylist, “Emulate that,” because he’d captured his hairstyle to a T. It was tall and poofy on the top but expertly tamed with spray. From my vantage point, the back was wavy, and I was surprised at how long it was. He’d been mostly wearing ball caps or pulling it back at school with Jenna’s help. Even during our make-out sessions, he’d refused to let me touch it. And now, I knew why.

One small section of bang hung on the left side of his forehead, giving him that sexy-’80s-bad-boy look—if there were such a thing.

In short, I loved it, and I couldn’t believe I’d ever been against this idea. He was still frowning at me, so I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around his neck. My fingertips played with the ends of his hair.

“Well?” he asked, sounding nervous.

“John Stamos has nothing on you, Jeremy Banks,” I told him, giving him a wink.

His frown turned into a smile, and he leaned down, smashing his lips against mine. He only pulled back when my dad cleared his throat. His grin was sheepish, and he want to run a hand through his hair, but he stopped at the last second.

“Jeremy, a word?” Dad asked.

I groaned. “Dad, come on.”

“It’s fine, babe,” Jeremy said, giving me a kiss on the forehead. “I can handle it.”

And, handle it, he apparently did, because when he and Dad came back, they were chatting like old chums.

When Nick asked to have a word, I knew exactly what it would entail. He’d done it before every dance I’d taken Sierra to, and I’d never begrudged him for that. Nick Sullivan loved his daughters, and he’d kick any ass he had to if they were hurt. I respected the hell out of him for it, so if I had to sit through another round of “don’t you dare touch my daughter,” I’d do it.

I followed him into the kitchen and stood as he poured himself two fingers of scotch. He held the bottle up to me in a gesture that was asking if I wanted any. Again, he’d done this before.

“No, sir. I’m driving,” I informed him.

“Yes, you are, and I expect you to remember that tonight when you’re driving my daughter to and from the dance. And at the after party. I don’t care what the other kids are doing. You protect her first and foremost. Got it?”

“I’m always careful when Sierra’s in the car. I’ll never let any harm come to her.”