Clara’s POV

I sat cross-legged on the carpet in Jake’s living room, the bottle of vodka burning its way down my throat as I passed it to Sarah next to me, my best friend since high school who always dragged me into these stupid gatherings. 

The room was filled with the usual crowd from our college days, a mix of guys and girls lounging on the couch and floor, laughing too loud at nothing in particular because we were all a few drinks in and feeling that buzz that made everything seem funnier than it really was. 

Jake, the host with his messy brown hair and that cocky grin he...