“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Taylor said, placing her beaded bag down on the counter and fluffing her curls in the mirror. “Remember London’s sweet sixteen? When Portia spiked his vodka cranberry with Alka-Seltzer?”
“‘I’m dying! I’m dying! And I never got carnal with Scarlett Johansson!’” Noelle crowed, mimicking Gage as she clutched her hands to her throat and rolled back her eyes.
I laughed so hard at the image, my stomach started to cramp up. I dropped down on a velvet stool near the wall and fought to catch my breath. Kiran fanned her face to prevent her mascara from running as Taylor braced both hands on the sink to keep from doubling over
with giggles. Definitely the best night we’d had since we’d arrived on the island. Without a doubt.
“Speaking of ScarJo, Noelle, what is with the major boobage?” Kiran asked once the laughter subsided. She waved her black-lacquered fingernail back and forth over Noelle’s neckline. “You don’t usually display the ladies quite so prominently.”
“I’m trying something new,” Noelle said blithely, leaning toward the mirror with her mascara wand.
“Yeah. Or some
one old
,” I teased, getting up to stand next to her.
Taylor, Kiran, and I all expectantly eyed Noelle in the mirror. She managed to ignore us for a good half minute as she finished plumping her lashes, then capped the mascara before standing up straight.
“I don’t know
what
you’re talking about,” she said with the sparest hint of a smile.
“Oh, please. The Dash-master has been all over you all night and you know it,” Kiran said, whacking Noelle’s arm. “Stop blue-balling the guy and give in already.”
Noelle rolled her eyes as she touched a blotting pad to her nose. Then she placed her things back into her clutch, took a deep breath, and looked at herself in the mirror, turning to the side to check her gorgeous profile.
“I may give him a
little
taste,” she said coyly.
“We knew it! We knew you were getting back together!” Taylor blurted happily.
“But just a little taste,” Noelle repeated. “Boy still has some intense groveling to do.”
“Understood,” Kiran said with a nod of approval. Then she turned around to face me, leaning back against the porcelain countertop. “What about you, Reed? Will you be officially winning the Upton Game tonight?”
I blushed furiously and stepped up next to her, practically pushing Noelle aside so I could look at myself in the mirror, rather than at them. “Please,” I said. “I’ve known him for, what? A week?”
“Yeah, and I’ve known him for eighteen years. I’ve never seen him like this,” Noelle told me, walking over to the door and standing in front of it. “That boy is gone. Like gone-to-Jupiter gone.”
My blush deepened. As I dipped into my purse for my lip gloss, my fingers trembled. My heart beat so fast that I felt as if I might faint. All night my skin had tingled at Upton’s every touch. My body temperature had been at least twenty degrees above normal. But I kept telling myself to chill. To be smart. Cautious. Because Upton might have been falling in love with me, but he was still a player.
But now my friends, the very girls he’d played with in the past, were telling me he’d changed. Changed because of me. And it was getting me seriously flustered.
“Yeah, Reed, forget the Upton Game,” Kiran said, placing her hand on my back. “You’ve already medaled in the Upton Olympics.”
“Really?” I said, unable to contain my giddiness any longer.
“Oh yeah,” Taylor said. “He hasn’t looked at anyone else all night long. And considering the washcloth-with-fringe that Poppy’s wearing, that’s really saying something.”
“Yeah, didn’t anyone tell her this is a formal event?” Kiran asked,
lifting her cylinder clutch. “We’ve only attended this party a thousand times before.”
“Last-minute desperate attempt to reland her man,” Noelle confirmed. “And as much as I love the girl, I’ll be the first to call it. Time of death of her relationship with Upton? The second Reed arrived on St. Barths.”
She yanked open the door and held it for the three of us. I took one last look in the mirror, my grin spreading so wide I thought it might break my face. Upton really was mine. All mine. Noelle laughed behind my back as I sashayed past her, but I ignored it. Let her think what she wanted to think. I didn’t care anymore. My heart was officially pinned to my sleeve.
Or it would have been, if I’d had any sleeves to pin it to.
As I rejoined the party behind my friends, they dispersed to the various tables and games, but I hung back. Standing near the door, I could take in the entire room. I saw Noelle join Dash at the roulette wheel, slipping her arm under his jacket and around his back. Saw Kiran sidle up to the craps table, where she blew on Graham’s dice for luck. Saw Taylor grab the chair next to Tiffany’s at blackjack and toss down the last of her chips with a clatter. But where was Upton? My breath grew shallow, labored. I had to find Upton.
Then, as if he felt me searching, Upton got up from one of the two poker tables and looked around. My eyes caught his and the room was on fire. I felt choked up. Like I wouldn’t be able to breathe until he touched me. He crossed the room so quickly, I knew he felt it too. His hand went right to my wrist, and my breath caught all over again.
“I can’t take this anymore,” Upton whispered in my ear. “I need to be with you.”
My brain went all fuzzy as one word escaped my lips. “Where?”
His hand closed around mine. “I know a place,” he said.
And we were off.
Upton opened the door to a small yet luxuriously appointed stateroom and let me slip inside first. The queen-size bed, covered in red velvet and gold silk, took up most of the space, and the crystal chandelier overhead tinkled with every shift of the ocean. My first thought was that creepy Mr. and Mrs. Ryan slept here. But I decided to let that go.
“I don’t think anyone saw us sneak off,” Upton said, closing the door quietly behind us.
“Yeah, I don’t care if they did,” I said.
I grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss that would have knocked his socks off, if that were in any way physically possible. Caught off guard, Upton just managed to slip his hands around my waist before we tripped back onto the bed together. I laughed through our kiss, ridiculously giddy, and slid backward, away from him, until my head met the huge feather pillows.
“God, you look gorgeous tonight,” Upton said, shedding his tux
jacket and loosening his tie as he crawled across the bed toward me.
“That was the plan,” I replied.
“The plan?” Upton asked, eyebrows raised. He ran his hand up over the waistline of my dress, let his fingertips skitter ever so gently over my breast, and then cupped my cheek. I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from giggling over the thrills that went through my body.
“Yes, the plan. Look gorgeous, make you salivate, lure you to some private locale, and have my way with you,” I said with a grin.
“I like this plan. I very much approve of this plan,” Upton said.
“Good.” I rolled onto my side and gave him a quick shove so that he was flat on his back. “Then let’s get on with it.”
As I leaned in to kiss him, Upton looked both amazed and impressed. I knew the feeling. I couldn’t believe how totally take-charge I was being. But why not? This was what I wanted. Right here, right now, in this moment, Upton was all I wanted. And I was going to go after what I wanted from this moment on. No more hesitating, no more sniveling, no more begging or pleading. I was a new Reed. A lucky Reed. And Upton was about to reap the benefits.
I leaned back, my lips buzzing from Upton’s kisses, and quickly unbuttoned his shirt. My hands slid over his perfectly taut stomach, and I leaned in to kiss his chest—something I had never done to any guy, ever. Upton let out a little moan and reached for the side zipper on my dress. I let him tug it down and felt the fabric fall open. Nothing was exposed yet, but the chill of the air rushing in over my skin made my breath catch.
“Come here,” he whispered.
Then he grabbed my upper arms and pulled me on top of him. His hand found the back of my neck, and he pulled me into the deepest kiss yet. My hands could not stop searching his body. His arms, his waist, his face, his shoulders. I just wanted to touch every part of him. Feel every single part of him.
Suddenly, Upton rolled us both over, and I let out a yelp of surprise as I found him on top of me. He grinned and trailed kisses from my earlobe all the way down my neck and over my shoulder. His fingertips hooked over the one shoulder strap on my dress and inched it down. He kissed the very top of my cleavage and smiled at me. I knew that, in about two seconds, he was going to tug down my dress, and I was going to be half naked in front of him, and I wanted it. I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to be the one. My first. My first since Thomas.
“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,” Upton whispered.
His hand slid down my body and then up, under my skirt, trailing my thigh. When his fingers found the side of my panties, I felt a rush of surprise. He was going straight for the goal line. No taking it slow for this guy.
I felt the tug on my underwear and heard a creak. I looked up, past Upton’s shoulder, and my heart completely seized. Poppy Simon was standing in the doorway, staring down at me, her mouth agape.
“Upton. Stop,” I said firmly.
He must have heard the panic in my voice, because he did. Right
away. He turned around and, at that moment, Mrs. Ryan joined Poppy. She was saying something about the new furnishings—giving another tour, I supposed—but she stopped midsentence when she saw us. The ginormous puffed sleeves of her green gown took up almost the entire doorway.
“Upton? What are you doing in here?” Mrs. Ryan said automatically.
Then I saw her take in the scene. Me clinging to my unzipped dress. Upton with his shirt wide open, his tie and jacket on the floor. I pretty much wanted to die. Poppy burst into tears before turning around and running up the steps to the main deck. I could hear her wailing all the way back to the party. Mrs. Ryan’s face set into a hard, cold frown.
“Upton Giles,” she said in a shaky voice. “I would have thought that a young man with your upbringing would have a bit more discretion.”
Upton swung his legs around the side of the bed and bent to pick up his jacket. “I apologize, Mrs. Ryan. We were just—”
“I know what you were doing,” she replied.
With a huge lump in my throat, I slid off the bed and hastily zipped up my dress. Thank God that was all I had to do. But the very idea of walking past Mrs. Ryan in the tiny space between her and the door was horrifying, I couldn’t make myself do it. Couldn’t make myself move. There was such ferocity in the woman’s light eyes that I thought she might pounce on top of me and tear my hair out.
“Mrs. Ryan, I’m so sorry,” I stammered. “I don’t know what to say. I—”
“Kindly save your whorish excuses for someone who cares,” Mrs. Ryan said through her teeth. Then she stepped out into the hallway and slammed the door. “When I come back here in five minutes, Upton, I expect this room to be empty,” she called from the other side. I heard her organza dress swishing behind her as she stormed up the stairs.
“Omigod,” I said breathlessly, doubling over. “I have never been so embarrassed in my entire life.”
Upton walked over to me, shrugging into his jacket. I expected him to put his arms around me and comfort me. Tell me Mrs. Ryan would forget all about it and that stuff like this happened all the time. But instead, he quickly retied his tie and cleared his throat, squaring his shoulders.
“Reed, I’m sorry, but I have to go take care of something,” he said in a formal tone. “I’ll meet you back at the party.”
“Wait. What? What are you taking care of?” I asked. Then I looked at the closed door. “You don’t mean Poppy.”
His jaw clenched. “I really must go.”
“Wait. Upton—”
He grasped my shoulders, planted a kiss on my forehead, and leaned back. “We’ll talk later.” Then he took off at a jog, leaving the door yawning open behind him.
I collapsed back against the wall, looked up at the ceiling, and laughed. Laughed a nice, big, bitter laugh. Of course he had to go after Poppy. Of course he did. What was wrong with him? He had told me he was falling in love with me. If that was the case, then how could he strand me here like this at the most mortifying moment of my life? How?
Answer: He was programmed to take care of his own. These people had been his friends—practically his family—for life. No matter how he thought he felt about me, I would never measure up to them. A chill ran over my body, and I hugged my goose-pimpled skin. Somehow, I always ended up alone.
I turned and trudged up the stairs, but I paused just outside the doorway to the main cabin and the party. There was no way I could go in there right now and face my friends and all their leading questions. There was no way I could watch as Upton begged for Poppy’s forgiveness. I was on a boat in the middle of the ocean, so there was no real escape, but I could at least take a few minutes to myself.
I turned right and walked outside onto the deck that ran all the way around the yacht. As I strolled along the freshly waxed planks toward the stern, I couldn’t help but feel abominably stupid for even trying to wrest Upton away from his incestuous crowd. Clearly, this lifelong bond among them was way deeper than I had ever understood. Poppy’s feelings obviously meant more to him than mine did, and probably they always would. Maybe he had said he loved me, but he had no idea what that meant. Not in the real world.
I paused at the very rear of the boat and looked out across the black ocean. We were on our way back to shore now, thank God, but we were far out enough that homes along the beach looked like pastel dollhouses. All that spread before me were miles and miles of endless water. I took a deep breath and told myself to let Upton go. Leave him out here on the open ocean and never look back.
But I kept seeing his face. His smile. That ridiculously sexy glint
in his eyes. The way he’d looked at me when I’d first arrived at the party tonight. The way he’d grinned like a little boy when I’d opened my Christmas gift. I could feel his arms around me, his hands on my skin, his fingers in my hair. I had a serious problem here.