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Ruby Ortega always got what she wanted.

However, Ruby Ortega also frequently wanted what she couldn’t have—which was precisely how she found herself in her current predicament: engulfed by a flock of rowdy boys lavishing her with the attention and adoration she craved on this tedious evening but still feeling just a little bit bored.

Among this crowd were, of course, the Trujillo brothers; they never passed up a chance to brag and boast in front of an audience. Ruby had once found the name of Alex Trujillo, the youngest of that tall brood, doodled in her sister’s notebook with hearts and swirls, and suspected an unreciprocated crush. Then there were a handful of other boys she’d grown up with—Mike Thomas, Ian Percy, and Daniel de la Cruz—whose parents either worked with her father, attended spin class with her mother, or operated in some capacity in the high--society circle to which the Ortegas belonged. There were a few others who were less familiar, like Sam Gomez, whose parents sent him off to boarding school last year after a drunken, late-night joy ride in their Beemer that had resulted in several thousand dollars of property damage near Balboa Park. All in all, the boys surrounding Ruby were all fine. No one particularly special, but at least they were better than the girls her age.

As they took turns blustering about achievements they seemed to find impressive—high scores on Madden or beer pong tournaments—Ruby feigned interest with a thin smile and a tigerlike scan of the rest of the partygoers clustered around the patio of her family’s bed-and-breakfast.

At least two hundred guests had come to Elena’s quinceañera. Ruby’s father claimed most of them were related to their family, but who could really know with him? He referred to everyone as primo so-and-so or tía what’s-her-name. Ruby’d had her own quince three years ago, and he’d introduced her to about twenty people who were “cousins” she’d never met.

Elena had been babbling incessantly about this party for months, and for the past week, no one in her family had been able to talk about anything else. Her sister had gone to everyone but Ruby as she deliberated over the color of her dress (mint green, which no one had the courage to tell her brought out the sickliest undertones in her skin), the party favor (key chains with her face on them—who the hell would want that?), or even the centerpiece flowers (it didn’t matter that they were some exotic daisy that her mother had called three different florists to track down—they were still daisies). Daddy got to offer his opinions. Mom was integral to every decision. Even Carla, who was eleven, got to make suggestions. But anytime Ruby was proximal to any party planning, Elena would snap, “Oh, Ruby. I’m sure you’re busy getting ready for college. You don’t need to worry about my birthday.”

It was unrelenting, and Ruby’d had all she could bear.

She let out a bored sigh and locked eyes with Alex across thecircle of boys as he shoved a sopaipilla into his face. He glanced around uncertainly before he realized that he was the one who Ruby had zeroed in on. She ran a hand over the shimmery fabric of her dress, acutely aware of the effect that would have on him. The wolfish way he stared at her as he finished off the fried pastry, scattering powdered sugar all over his shirt, was somehow both revolting and satisfying.

Ruby had a slim figure, but it was not offset by the gentle curves most of the other girls had upon exiting puberty. Her skin was fair, but not quite porcelain; it was just light enough for people to comment frequently that she didn’t “look Latina”—whatever that meant. She had thick, dark hair that, on her best days, fell in glamorous waves down her back, but on her worst days drew Medusa-like comparisons. While some girls may have listed these qualities as flaws, Ruby in fact knew them to be traits she could use to her advantage with the right amount of confidence and a good deal of batting her eyelashes. There was absolutely no challenge that Ruby wasn’t prepared to bend to her will.

Alex barreled toward her, earning more than a few irritated scowls as he did so.

“You look amazing,” was all he could muster, a nervous grin playing on his sugarcoated lips.

She smiled back, instantly filled with the familiar satisfaction of having all eyes on her.

He seized her brief silence as his opportunity to interject what he probably thought was his most remarkable trait. “I don’t know if you saw the new truck out there.” Ruby maintained a blank expression, but he was undeterred. “It’s mine. I just bought it. It’s got three hundred horsepower. Which is a lot. Most people don’t know the difference between horsepower and torque.”

How did we go from complimenting me to thisso quickly? she wondered.

Somehow he had transitioned to towing capacity, which apparently was also different from horsepower, and Ruby resisted the overwhelming urge to point out that all those things were similar in that she did not give two shits about any of them.

She eyed Ian Percy, who stood to the right of Alex’s colossal shoulder with a disappointed scowl on his face. She’d always found him kind of skeevy, ever since she heard he had multiple iPhones to text different girlfriends, but perhaps he’d be a more interesting target? “I’m sorry,” she cooed to Alex apologetically. “My champagne seems to have disappeared.” She held up her empty hands and gave him a helpless shrug.

She flicked her eyes up at him and waited five full seconds for him to realize she was waiting for him to make himself useful.

At last, his eyes brightened with understanding. “I’ll go get you one. Bartenders never ask for my ID.” He put his own cup to his lips and drained its contents with one cartoonishly loud slurp. “Because I’m so tall,” he added unnecessarily.

Ruby rewarded him with an affectionate pat on his arm. “Oh, would you? I’ll see you back here in a minute, then.” Before the relief of finally shaking the bumbling buffoon (really,what did Elena see in that guy?) could sink in, Ruby felt a gentle but firm hand pull her by the arm, away from her gaggle of admirers.

“Ruby. Catherine. Ortega.” Instantly, she was spun so her back was to the boys, and she was instead face-to-face with the reproachful glare of her mother—the only person in the world whose whisper could still be heard over the thumping of a DJ. “Are you trying to give your father a heart attack?”

Her father subsisted on a diet that was primarily made of tequila and red meat, so while a heart attack wasn’t completely out of the question, Ruby didn’t really see how it could be blamed on her.

Before she could answer, her mother snapped, “You know he didn’t want you wearing that dress, and I still don’t know how you made it out of the house without me seeing it.” Her mother’s eyes darted furiously over the pale green bodycon dress that clung to her torso, exposing more than a tasteful amount of cleavage. Of course, the dress’s fit was only part of her parents’ disapproval of her choice. The other part had been Elena’s whining that the color was too close to the mint-green gown she’d selected for herself, which Ruby found ludicrous. Everyone knew green was her color.

Though it had required borderline espionage to escape her mother’s authoritarian watch this afternoon, Ruby personally thought the greater accomplishment had been getting into the dress on her own. She’d had to jump up and down and nearly dislocate her shoulder to get it zipped.

“It wouldn’t even have been an issue if Elena had included me in the damas.” She dramatically folded her arms across her chest. However, she realized the effect this action had on her breasts—heaving them upward from her plunging neckline—and uncrossed them, quickly pinning her arms to her sides in faux innocence. Her sister had selected four of her friends to wear matching evening gowns as part of the ceremony and had been very insistent that Ruby was not among them. Ruby preferred her own dress, obviously—-but she hated being excluded. She was not one to take being told no in stride.

It was, of course, beside the point that Ruby hadn’t chosen Elena to be one of her damas for her quinceañera either.

“It is Elena’s birthday, and it was her choice, just like your quinceañera was all your choice.” Her mother grabbed the neckline of Ruby’s dress roughly and jerked it upward, smashing her exposed cleavage underneath the shimmery fabric. “And that’s what this is, Ruby. A quinceañera. A birthday party. Not a nightclub. Now take this sweater and cover yourself up before your grandmother—or worse, your father—sees you.Go.” She’d snatched some hideous gray cardigan off the nearest chair and thrust it into Ruby’s arms before marching off.

Ruby briefly thought of mentioning that her grandmother had seen her dress before they left the house and had rewarded her with a devilish wink, chuckling that girls her age deserved wild adventures, but she didn’t want to get Mama Ortega in trouble, too.

Distracted by her mother’s tirade and the faint mildewy smell of her new accessory, she hadn’t noticed the towering Trujillo trollreturning, sloshing the two beers he held with every step.

She’d listened to him drone on and on, and he couldn’t even be bothered to remember that she’d asked for champagne? Typical.

“Hey, do you want to go talk out front for a bit?” he offered with a hopeful smile.

She could not think of anything she wanted to do less than retreat to isolation with this boy—even with the mortifying new addition to her ensemble. But before she could say anything, he added, “My brother said Ashton Willis is back from his semester abroad, and he just got here. He’s out front with a few friends.”

Her words caught in her throat for an instant, in a stunned, ecstatic silence.

This was what she had been waiting for all evening. Maybe even all her life.

She tossed the cardigan back onto the chair where her mother had found it and eagerly latched on to Alex’s arm so his gigantic figure would hide her from the judgmental eyes of her family. “That sounds wonderful!”

Ruby had to consciously force herself to breathe, her entire body tingling with excitement and exhilaration. She was anxious for so much these days—-to leave for college, to have a life outside her insular community, where she knew everyone and everyone knew her—-but there really was nothing like a summer night in Southern California, and she was certain this moment was going to be life changing.

Her pulse quickened as they crossed the crowded patio, bedecked with the twinkling string lights they pulled out for weddingsand other special events, and weaved their way between bistrotables and waiters toting gleaming silver trays. The music began to fade, and briefly, they ducked into darkness as they traipsed along the side of the B&B. At last, they reemerged into brightness, making their way to the front of the building, where glowing farmhouse sconces illuminated a small seating area.

Unlike the event space in the back, the front patio was much more intimate, adorned with a few blossoming rosebushes and two shabby--chic benches her mother had found at an antique store and had shipped to Vermont to be restored and refinished. The bed--and--breakfast itself was originally a barn and still maintained some of the rustic charm on the outside, with a peaked archway over the converted doors and distressed whitewashed wood panels. It was a pretty place, almost as much a part of Ruby’s family as any person was, and it stirred something in Ruby’s heart to have Ashton back here.

He had been studying abroad in Spain since Christmas, and whilehe had planned to be back in time for Elena’s party, a series of flight delays had made his highly anticipated arrival a little hard to predict and utterly excruciating for Ruby. But here he was. He was back.

And he was finally going to be hers.

She was still several yards away from him as she stepped onto the cobblestone walkway, his back to her, but the second her eyes fell on his lanky frame, her insides turned molten. Her heart raced with a dizzying mixture of nostalgia and yearning.

The Willises had lived next door to the Ortegas for as long as Ruby could remember. Ashton was two and a half years older, but they’d grown up side by side, their childhoods intertwined. Hell, there was even a picture of Ashton and Ruby as toddlers in the bathtub together—-a relic that used to mortify her, but now one that made her blush excitedly.

Ashton had always been sweet and kind to her, a reliable force of chivalry in a teenage social world that was often dramatic and tumultuous. He’d given her rides in high school so she wouldn’t have to debase herself by waiting for the bus. He’d even listen to her complain about her most recent breakups without ever making the snarky comments the girls in her class were prone to about how maybe the problem wasn’t them, but her. Sure, there were times she had found him a little dorky, like when he’d go on a tangent about comic books or insist on dipping everything he ate in ranch dressing, but she knew those things weren’t a big deal. Ruby saw now that they were meant for each other, that all the time they’d spent growing up alongside each other, they’d also been falling in love without even realizing it. She’d rolled her eyes through way too many romantic comedies for her not to know that the girl next door always got the guy.

It had become clear to her on his first visit home from college almost two years ago. He was tanned from a recent trip to Lake Havasu, which gave his freckled cheeks the most adorable glow, and they’d stayed up all night talking in his backyard, sprawled out on his trampoline underneath the stars like they used to when they were younger. He told her all about college—his dorm, his classes, his fraternity—and she lay beside him in rapture, wondering if his eyelashes had always been so long, if he had always smelled so amazing.

After that, each of his visits was more tantalizing than the last.

He hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to kiss her yet, but Ruby felt it in her bones. This would be the night.