“Hear, hear!” Taylor cheered.
“Ah, the wisdom of Kiran Hayes,” Noelle joked. “You really should write a self-help book.”
We laughed and were about to walk out onto the sunlit sidewalk when I saw Sawyer and Graham across the street.
“Hey, there are your friends,” I said.
I noticed then that they were arguing. Sawyer’s body language was very aggressive, while it was clear that Graham was trying to chill him out.
“What’s that about?” I asked, curious.
I could have sworn that Noelle’s brow creased for a moment in concern, but just as quickly the expression was gone. “Those two,” she said fondly. “Always arguing about something.” Then she grabbed my arm and tugged, forcing me to look away from the window. “Come on. You need shoes.”
I rolled my eyes, but I smiled. She was right. I
did
need shoes. Heels. Nice three-inch heels that would bring me eye to eye with Upton.
Not that I was going there. Really. I wasn’t.
The party that night was in the penthouse suite of the Simon Hotel, a towering structure built atop a cliff overlooking the ocean. The high-ceilinged room was decorated in an eclectic style, mixing modern furniture with a Grecian sensibility. Square couches, pillows, and ottomans dotted the room, arranged on a gleaming marble floor around ornate columns. Huge palm fronds were displayed in tall urns, and the sconces on the walls looked like colorful pieces of paper curled into cones. Weird, yes, but somehow it all worked. Possibly because no one was paying much attention to the décor. It was all about the people.
Everyone I had met since I’d arrived was there, along with about thirty other people all under twenty-one—all drinking heavily. One look at the outfits and I was grateful that Kiran and the others had forced me to shop. Colorful dresses, strappy sandals, and designer bags were the order of the day. If I had walked into this party in jeans and Chuck D’s, I might have melted under the scrutiny.
I was wearing the green-and-blue dress with a pair of subtle gold sandals and a gold cuff bracelet Noelle had leant me. Kiran had put my hair up in a messy bun with plenty of wispy pieces tickling my face. I felt beautiful—and like I belonged.
I spent the first hour dancing with Kiran, Taylor, and Tiffany in the center of the room. Just letting loose and having fun. Pretending the world didn’t exist. Finally the new shoes started to pinch my toes, and I had to take a break. I grabbed a glass of water from the bar and maneuvered my way to the couch, where Noelle was hanging out with West.
“So, where’s this Poppy girl?” I asked, dropping down next to Noelle. Her knees were turned toward West’s, and she let out a tinkling laugh as she turned toward me. I blinked. Her hand was on his chest, and he was looking adoringly at her.
Wait a second. Noelle was flirting with West? I mean, okay, he was one of the most coveted guys in the senior class with his deep brown eyes, lacrosse star body, and addiction to Ralph Lauren. But he wasn’t Dash.
“Oh, she likes to make an entrance,” Noelle told me. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”
I waved off a waiter offering a flute of champagne, and Noelle went back to cuddling into West’s side and whispering in his ear. I couldn’t wrap my brain around Noelle being with anyone other than Dash. It was just too odd. Like watching your mother flirt with the dude at the drive-through window or something. As she ran the backs of her fingers along his jaw line I had to look away . . .
. . . and ended up looking right at Upton. Of course. All night I had
been trying not to search him out, and all night I had been doing just that. Right then he was leaning back against the bar, swilling a clear drink as Kiran chatted in his ear. Apparently she had decided to take a break from dancing as well, and she had gotten right back in the game. Upton nodded and pursed his lips as he swallowed, obviously tasting the sourness of the alcohol. Then he placed the glass on the bar and turned to Paige, who had just laid her hand on his opposite arm. Amberly sidled up to him as well, trying to edge out Kiran. Damn, these girls were shameless. I wondered if he knew it was a competition. My guess was no. He probably thought he was simply irresistible to all women.
Which, let’s face it, he was.
In spite of myself, I slowly inspected every inch of Upton Giles. His square cheekbones. The curve of his shoulders beneath his light-blue shirt. The slightly exposed skin of his chest. He had missed a button at the bottom of his shirt, and every once in a while he would shift or make a gesture and a bit of his toned stomach would be exposed. Every time this happened, my throat caught.
I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss him. And then I realized that these girls who were flirting with him—Kiran and Paige and Tiffany—all knew what it was like to kiss him. And for the first time, that realization didn’t gross me out. Instead, it pissed me off. Why should they get to win the Upton Game when they had already won in previous years? It simply wasn’t fair. Someone else should get to win. Someone new.
Someone who was definitely not Amberly.
As I glanced around the dance floor, I noticed that there were couples everywhere. Graham Hathaway was dancing with a blond beauty who was at least six inches taller than him. Gage was putting the moves on some unsuspecting girl with thousands of braids hanging down her back. It seemed like every girl on the dance floor had a guy who was obviously into her.
And back home, Josh had Ivy. And I was here. Alone. On vacation. Being Carefree Reed. Screw It Reed. Fun, Fun Reed. So I was going to have a little fun. And talking to Upton would be fun. And so would wiping that perpetually smug look off Paige Ryan’s face.
I stood up and crossed the room, weaving my way around the various couples. Upton caught my eye as I approached. He stood up straighter, casually shrugging off Paige’s hand.
“Hey,” I said, looking into his eyes.
He appeared intrigued. “Hello.”
“Want to get me a drink?”
“At your service,” Upton said with a half smile. He turned and signaled for the bartender.
Kiran raised her eyebrows, impressed, and tipped her glass toward me like she was welcoming me into the game. Paige backed up a touch and crossed her arms over her chest. She eyed me with obvious irritation.
“Well, well. Look who’s a player,” she said.
I simply smiled. My heart was pounding so hard I couldn’t do anything else. Upton turned and handed me a glass of champagne. He had a new drink for himself as well.
“Perhaps we should go someplace a bit more private?” he suggested.
“Absolutely,” I replied.
He took my free hand and a jolt went through me. His hand was warm and slightly rough, his grip confident and firm. Every girl in the room eyed me with envy as we wound through the crowd. My heart fluttered around on feathery little wings. I had no idea what I was doing or where this was going to go. All I knew was that this was
fun
.
Upton was staring at me.
He was staring at my profile and I was staring at the ocean, sipping champagne and trying not to crack up laughing. We were sitting, almost lying, on a double lounge chair with a thick striped cushion, on a verandah overlooking the water. The sky was this sort of purplish black, blanketed again with stars. Set against the dark turquoise blue of the water, it was like something out of a surrealist painting. I couldn’t believe views like this actually existed in nature.
And I couldn’t believe Upton was looking at me as if I were even more beautiful than the view. No one had ever stared at me in quite that way before. Like he was trying to memorize every inch of my face. Was this part of his playboy shtick?
The thought made me feel suddenly defensive. Like I didn’t want him to think I was going into this all naive and wide-eyed like some inexperienced moron. I turned slightly on my side to face him better.
I looked into his face and managed not to blush. “So tell me . . . how many girls at this party have you hooked up with?”
Upton gave a short, incredulous laugh. “Is this your transparency thing kicking in again?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I said with a grin, thrilled that he had paid attention during our last conversation.
He pushed himself up on his side and looked through the half-open glass doors that led to the penthouse. Inside, the music had been cranked up and the voices were growing louder as the drinks continued to flow.
“None,” he said confidently, dropping back down. I looked at him skeptically until he smiled and added, “Tonight.”
I laughed and looked away, fiddling with the skirt of my dress. “And how many girls at this party have you kissed?” I asked, my heart racing.
He reached over and simply grazed the inside of my arm with his fingertips. I thought I was going to drown in longing right there.
“None,” he whispered. “Tonight.”
I looked up at him, looked right into his eyes, and held my breath. I almost couldn’t believe what I was about to do.
“Well then,” I said. “Let me be the first.”
And then I leaned in and kissed him.
How I didn’t explode is beyond the laws of physics. This was pure attraction. I knew almost nothing about this guy aside from his name and the fact that every other girl at this party wanted him, and I didn’t care. As he reached around my waist and pulled me to him,
I didn’t care about anything other than the fact that my toes and fingers and thighs and arms and ears were tingling. I wanted to press every single inch of my body against his. Only once in my life had I felt attraction like this, and that was with Dash. And I had been drugged at the time.
But tonight, I was clear. Upton made me feel gorgeous, uninhibited, totally daring. Totally not me.
And I was loving it.
Then I felt his hand traveling from my bare stomach northward, and I jolted backward. Instantly, the crashing waves and the laughter and the music came rushing in on me. It was like waking up from a deep sleep only to enter sensory overload. Kissing was one thing. I wasn’t sure I was ready to go further than that.
“What happened?” Upton asked, pulling away.
“Nothing! Nothing,” I said, flipping onto my back. I tried to shove my hands into my hair, and then realized it was pinned up and carefully extricated my fingers. “I just . . . needed some air.”
Upton’s fingertips trailed up and down my inner forearm, sending pleasant shivers throughout my body.
“Have you gotten enough yet?” he asked, inching closer and bringing his face toward mine.
I giggled and looked at him in a mock-stern way. “I’m thinking we should go back to the party.”
Upton’s eyebrows rose. “Why? I’m having plenty of fun right here.”
“Me too,” I said, racking my brain for something I could say that
wouldn’t offend him and wouldn’t make me sound like a complete prude. “It’s just . . . I came down here to hang out with my friends, and I feel like I’m neglecting them.”
Upton smiled. “All right then. We’ll go inside. But I plan on continuing this at a later date.”
I couldn’t help but smile in response. I
definitely
wanted to hang out with him again.
Upton pulled me up off the lounge in one swift motion. As soon as we were through the doors, it was obvious that something was up. Almost everyone at the party was gathered near the front door of the suite, and there was an enthusiastic din coming from the center of the crowd. The only person who didn’t appear to have any interest in what was going on was Sawyer Hathaway, who was leaning against the wall near the verandah doors, picking at his fingernails.
“It’s so good to see you!” a girl’s voice squealed. A girl with a British accent. “Really? Do you like it? I just had it cut.”
“I
love
it,” I heard Taylor say. “I’ve been thinking about chopping mine, too.”
“Oh, you definitely should. It’s so freeing!”
Finally, the girl with the accent made her way out of the crowd and into the open. She had short blond curls pushed back from her face with a skinny headband, a sun-kissed tan, and seriously defined arms. She wore a tiny spaghetti-strap boho dress with swirls of brown, red, and orange all over it, and at least half a dozen beaded necklaces of all different lengths. She linked arms with an athletic-looking girl with long black hair, tan skin, and a regal air about her.
They both giggled as they faced the partygoers, their backs to me and Upton.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“That would be Poppy,” he replied with an amused look in his eye. “And it appears as if she’s brought along a friend.”
“Everyone, this is Sienna Marquez. Sienna, this is . . . everyone!”
“Pleased to meet you,” Sienna said in a thick Spanish accent. She and Poppy both laughed as if sharing some private joke.
“Are you all enjoying the party?” Poppy asked, lifting her free arm. Dozens of skinny gold bangles jangled down to her elbow.
The crowd answered with a general cheer of approval. Daniel Ryan broke away from his friends and was about to hug her when Poppy’s eyes fell on Upton. She lit up like a sparkler on the Fourth of July, dropped her friend’s arm, and clapped her hands together in glee.
“
There’s
my yummy boyfriend!”
I glanced at Upton, whose face broke into a smile as he released my hand and the girl came sprinting across the room. She launched herself into his arms from about three feet away, wrapping all four limbs around him like a koala and sticking her tongue so far down his throat that she must’ve tasted his lunch.
I was so surprised I actually stumbled aside a few paces. I found myself staring at Daniel, who was standing directly across from me, his mouth hanging slightly ajar, looking as dumbfounded as I felt. Upton had a
girlfriend
?
The next morning I woke up with a start, my heart sprinting. For a moment I had no idea where I was, and I was seized by the disturbing sensation that I was being watched. Then I saw the ocean outside my open windows and remembered. St. Barths. The Lange family’s house. I was fine. I was safe. I must have had a bad dream. The sky was just starting to brighten, the darkness giving way to lighter shades of blue and gray. I listened for a moment to ascertain whether anyone in the house was up and about, but I heard nothing. No early risers in the Lange family. Not that I was surprised. Noelle had never been a morning person.