But I wouldn’t have anything different for my eighteenth birthday. I’ve had more fun already tonight than I did in all my past birthdays combined.

Noah hands the phone back to me, and I take it, turning it off and sticking it under my thigh, so they can’t get it again.

“So, what do you say?” he asks. “Wanna look sexy like that on our website?”

“Shut up.”

I tuck my chair back in and take a sip of my soda.

“It’s a really good idea,” Noah argues, turning to his father. “That’s what we’re missing in our marketing. Something pretty.”

“Noah, Jesus…” Jake shifts uncomfortably in his chair and lifts his bottle to his lips.

“No, seriously,” he continues. “Look at all the other sites. All the shows and expos we go to. What do they all have in common? Hot girls. We could get a photographer up at the house and do a photo shoot of her on the bikes. It’ll be great.”

“It’ll be snowing by morning,” Jake says. “No photographers are getting up the mountain.” He shoots his eyes to me. “And no one’s getting down.”

I pause, a shiver almost running through me as I hold my uncle’s eyes. I’m not sure if I see a warning or a challenge there in regard to the months ahead, but I raise my glass in a cheers, ready for whatever.

Jake grins, raising his beer and Noah follows, all of us clanking our glass together. Kaleb eats his meal.

“Besides,” Jake adds, setting his beer down, “we may never see her again after the spring anyway. Not sure we want to add her to the letterhead quite yet.”

I shake my head, knowing he wouldn’t mind if I stayed forever and would love the assurance right now that I will.

I love being wanted.

But college looms. I’ll need to make decisions soon.

Noah looks at me. “You won’t leave us, will you?”

I laugh, unsure how to answer that.

Instead, I just tip my chin at my uncle. “May I have a non-virgin beer for my birthday?”

He knows full well I’m taking advantage of the allowance in this state that anyone under twenty-one can drink on private property, as long as they’re under parental supervision.

So let’s go home to private property, so I can do that.

But Jake has different plans.

“Let’s go into the bar,” he says.

My eyes widen. And I’m out of my chair before any of them.

Noah, Kaleb, and I head out of the restaurant while Jake pays the bill, and Noah takes my hand as we trail down a long hallway, entering the noise-ridden saloon that’s connected to the restaurant. Country music plays on the juke-box, and I crunch peanut shells under my shoes as we walk under the dim lights and past the pool tables and bar stools.

Eyes immediately turn in our direction as people huddle in small groups and the music blares. I suddenly feel overdressed like Jake suggested.

A few interested pairs of eyes floated up and down my attire as we sat down in the restaurant earlier, because I haven’t met many people in town, and they probably wondered who I was, but now… my skin warms under their gazes, and I clutch Noah’s hand, a little uncomfortable. The place is filled with T-shirts, jeans, and beards, and who’s the moron coming in here dressed for a cocktail party in Malibu?

I meet several pairs of eyes as we pass tables of people drinking and smoking.

Kaleb tosses some money on the bar and gestures to all of us at the bartender, but the guy cocks his head, eyeing me with suspicion.

“It’s okay, Mike,” I hear my uncle suddenly say behind me.

I turn around, seeing him give the guy a smile, and that seems to do it, because the bartender nods and reaches down to pull four Buds out of the cooler, popping the tops for all of us.

“Let’s go.” Noah nudges my arm.

I follow them all—except for Kaleb, because he disappeared once he got his beer—over to the foosball table, and Noah and I pair up against Jake. I ignore the eyes I feel on my back and take a sip of my beer before setting it down on the table with Noah’s and Jake’s.

“They played this on The Karate Kid, right?”

Jake’s eyes light up. “Very good.”

I almost laugh at his delighted expression. Seems there’s still hope for me yet.

We play a few games, Jake winning every time despite being by himself, and I have to pull my hair over my shoulder to get it off my back by the time we finish the third game, because I’m starting to sweat.

The music in here isn’t my style usually, but the crowd feeds off it, loud and happy, and I barely even notice the cold gusts of wind that rush through the front door every time someone arrives or leaves. Some old-timer walks through, dusting snow off his hat, but nothing disturbs the good time.

“I’m gonna grab another one,” Jake tells us after the last game, gesturing to his beer.

I pick up mine still sitting on the table, untouched, and look around the room as he walks off.

Some racers sit off to the back, and I recognize a few of the guys and girls from the group at my uncle’s house a couple times, and I spot a woman in a cheap little veil surrounded by others at the bar, all of them throwing back shots. Her tight, black T-shirt reads “Marissa’s Last Stand” in blingy jewels that sparkle in the dim light.

The song on the jukebox ends, and a few couples nestled on a small patch of floor who are dancing let go of each other and make their way back to their tables.

“Wanna play some pool?” Noah shouts over the noise.

I stare at the jukebox, bringing the bottle to my lips. “I want to play some music,” I tell him and flash him an apologetic smile as I hold out my hand for money. “Please?”

He rolls his eyes but reaches into his pocket and digs out some ones for me. Jake has my money. Noah knows I’m good for it.

He hands me a couple bills, and I snatch them up. “Thank you.”

Strolling off, I head for the music.

Jake stands at the bar, talking to some guy, and I still haven’t seen Kaleb since we got in here. I stop at the jukebox and look around for him. Kaleb has barely spared me a glance since he gave me the belt earlier tonight, but something about his present keeps gnawing at me, and I’m not sure why.

He made it. By hand. For me.

He knew my birthday was coming.

I love that each of them put some thought into what I might like, even though they really didn’t have to get me anything at all. It was nice opening up a gift I would buy for myself, instead of a lavish present that tries way too hard to put a price on impressing someone.

Kaleb put in hours of work, though. The thought of him in his workroom in the barn, quietly working, head hung over my belt, out there alone all that time… for me.

But then I shake my head.

I’m overanalyzing. He probably had that belt already made and laying around. He just grabbed it as he was leaving his room, and it probably does have some weirdo sexual undertone with all those notches, like Noah said.

I scroll the song selections, finally seeing something not country and put in a bill, dialing in the letter and number. “Do You Want to Touch Me There” by Joan Jett starts playing, and all of a sudden some cheers go off. I turn my head over my shoulder to see the bachelorette party holding up their arms and moving toward me, already dancing.