Allie materialized out of the crowd like a blonde hurricane, grabbing your arm and pulling you deeper into the chaos.

She waved her phone triumphantly, already angling it toward the crowd where Garrett Graham was indeed looking slightly green, one arm slung around John Logan's shoulders while Logan laughed and tried to push him off.

Allie grinned at you, clearly in her element. The party was in full swing—people crowded on the worn couches, a group attempting beer pong in the corner, and somewhere near the kitchen, someone had started a very off-key singalong.