Jamie grins at me. “Thank God your mom hired the same caterers as for their wedding anniversary. Remember their desserts?”
“Are you kidding? I still dream about them.” I pretend to swoon. “Oh, you fair chocolate eclair.”
“That’s why I came, you know,” she says, eyes glittering with humor. “For the desserts. Sorry, Lily.”
“I should be offended, but that’s why I came, too,” I say with a grin.
A strong arm wraps around my shoulder, and I look up to see Henry. He’s freshly shaven, hair pushed back neatly. He looks older every time I see him—the kind of person who was never really meant to be a child in the first place.
“Hey, Lilypad.”
“You made it!”
“Of course.” He gives me a sideways hug. “How could I miss this? My baby sister is finally grown up.”
Parker joins us, shooting Henry a grin as they bump fists. “Glad you’re here, man.”
“Likewise. Sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation.”
“No worries,” Parker says, eyes happy and open—although I know he’s not entirely over it. “Have you seen Mom and Dad yet?”
“Yes, I spoke with them before. Is Rhys around?”
I nod to where Rhys is engaged in a discussion with our grandmother, Evelyn. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s berating him about his new haircut and he’s countering her with metaphysical arguments or a Nietzsche quote, the weirdo.
“I saw Hayden earlier,” Parker says. “He’ll join in a bit.”
“Good, good,” Henry nods. “Is he still living out in the beach house with his uncle?”
“Yeah.”
“I wonder how much longer Dad will let him stay.”
Parker frowns, echoing my own expression. “What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s an adult now. The deal was surely that he’d be taken care of as long as he was a child and under Gary’s guardianship.” Henry’s words, so matter of fact, feel like daggers.
“Henry, you can’t say stuff like that,” I say. “Stop being an ass.”
He looks both amused and affronted, eyebrows raised high. “What? It’s just the truth.”
“Nah, man, Hayden’s been like a brother to us,” Parker says. He looks just as insulted as me. “That place is his home. He can stay with Gary as long as he likes.”
“Sure, sure. Let’s get a glass of champagne and enjoy Lily’s birthday. We don’t need to discuss this now.”
Or ever, I want to add. I already know that Hayden will have to leave one day, and just imagining it breaks my heart.
The evening is a blur of names and faces and laughter. As much as I thought I’d hate it, I find that I actually don’t. A few of my girlfriends from school are here, and so are Parker’s and Rhys’s friends. The Maine cousins are nice.
The only one missing is Hayden. I keep glancing over at the beach house, but it looks deserted and distant. No dark-haired, brooding boy in sight.
I’m taking a break from dancing when Turner shows up, a small smile on his face. “Hey.”
“Hi. Parker’s somewhere around here, I think.”
He laughs. “I know, but I wanted to say happy birthday to you.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
“This party’s really something.”
“Yeah, you could say that again.” I glance out over the marquee, the hanging lights, the smell of lilies from the many bouquets. “Mom sort of went all in.”
“How about a dance?” He nods toward the dance floor.
The music is soft and soothing, and I want to say yes. But the memory of the graduation party holds me back. “And what if someone interrupts us?”
“I won’t back off so easily this time, I promise.”
“Good,” I say. “Because all my brothers are here this time.”
Turner shoots me a grin. “Let them do their worst.”
Turner’s a good dancer. He leads well, and I don’t step on his feet, not once. He’s taken the same classes at Paradise Shores that the rest of us have, but unlike most of my brothers, he seems to have actually paid attention.
My parents are dancing, too. I watch as they glide gracefully around us and feel the familiar ache in my chest. There’s so much pressure to be like them. Beautiful. Successful. Universally adored. Even this party, which my mother threw out of love for me, reminds me of it. The expectations have nearly suffocated the joy out of Henry. I don’t want them to do the same to Rhys or Parker. Or to me.
As if he can read my mind, Turner nods. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
He leans in. “Parker has grabbed some of the champagne bottles. There’s a sub-party going on in the basement.”
“There’s a what?”
“A sub-party. Come on, let’s escape for a bit.”
He’s right. Rhys is already in the basement, opening a bottle. He hands me a flute of sparkling champagne. “Glad you could make it, my dear.”
I sink down onto one of the large sofas and bend down to undo my painful high-heeled shoes. “Thank God for this.”
Turner laughs and sits down next to me. “All we need is some food, now.”
“Parker’s on it,” Rhys says. “I think he’s gonna get Jamie and the girls too.”
“Really?”
“We want you to enjoy yourself, Lils.” He reaches over and tweaks my nose in a way he hasn’t for years. “Soon enough you’ll be on your own here for senior year, with all of us gone for college. Let us spoil you a little longer.”
And they do. There’s music and games and drinks, not to mention an entire tray of roast lamb vol-au-vent that Parker somehow managed to score. I have to filter in and out, to mingle with the guests, but together the whole thing feels a lot less lonely.
There’s only one person missing. I had hoped he would come, but as the hours wear on, I don’t think he will. This isn’t his scene on the best of days, and especially not with me this dolled up… with the house filled with strangers. Strangers with trust funds and upturned noses.
Still, I had hoped.
It’s many hours later when I’ve finally said goodbye to all the guests. Turner is in the basement with Parker, both of them passed out. My parents said goodnight ages ago, and the caterers have all packed up and left. I’m officially eighteen.
It’s still warm outside, though. I stand in the backyard and take a few deep breaths. Salt and ocean spray hangs in the air, and the stars stretch out in a glittering blanket above me. The lights are still lit under the marquee, and without any guests, the place looks magical. The only music still playing is the sound of waves against the beach. I close my eyes and breathe in the salty air.
A familiar laugh, soft and low, rings out in front of me. My eyes snap open, only to see the one person I thought would never show.
He’s wearing a dark suit, the one I know he bought for his graduation. It’s a little short in the sleeves and snug over the chest, which only makes him look manlier. His dark hair hangs over eyes that dance with laughter.
Hayden looks so handsome that I think my heart might break from the sight. I know I’ve been in love with him for a long time, but it strikes me then just how far I’ve fallen. There’s just no one else for me.
There never will be.
His lips curl, just slightly. “What are you doing out here, Lily?”
“I’m enjoying the night,” I say. “The stars.”
“More than your party?”
“It was nice, too,” I say. “A bit boring at times.”
“Did Henry show up?” he asks, taking a step closer.
“Yes, he’s here. We had a sub-party.”
“A sub-party?”
I step closer to him, too, and realize that I’m not wearing my shoes anymore. The grass is cold between my toes. “With champagne and games.”
He nods. “And you had some?”
“Just a bit.”
He lifts an eyebrow, in that way he’s always been able to, and I
can’t help but smile. “All right. Maybe a few glasses. But not too much.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
We’re quiet, just watching each other. I wonder what he’s thinking, if he’s missed me as much as I’ve missed him. If he feels like I do—filled with electricity from his nearness.
“Why didn’t you come?”
“I’m here now.”
“Yes, but…” I gesture at the empty tables. “Earlier.”
Hayden frowns, like he’s not sure if he should tell me the truth or not. The little crease between his brows makes my hand ache. I want to reach out and smooth it away, to run my fingers over his cheek. “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me here.”
“I always want you around.”
He looks away, as if he’s shocked by my admission. As if he doesn’t already know how much I want him. “Yes, well, I screwed up last time. I can only say sorry so many times.”
“I don’t want you to say sorry,” I say, shaking my head. Not that—anything but that. I want him to say what I’m feeling, that our kiss was everything, that he wants me as much as I want him.
He doesn’t say that. He just smiles, small and true, and hands me a golden box. “Happy birthday, Lily.”
“You shouldn’t’ve.”
“Open it.”
I unwrap it slowly, looking from him to the gift. I hope he didn’t spend a lot of money on it, knowing how hard he works for his keep. But I know better than to bring that up.
“It’s just something small,” he says with a shrug. “But I… well.”
I open the lid to a reveal a gold bracelet resting on tissue paper. Small charms hang from it at evenly spaced distances. There’s a seashell, shaped like a cone. A little painter’s palette. There’s a large tree—the one we used to climb in, I imagine. A tiny golden dog.
Shivers race across my arms as my eyes flicker between the shooting star and the dog, wondering how he captured my heart in such small icons.
“Lily?”
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
Fastening it around my wrist is tricky one-handed, so Hayden helps me. I can smell the faint trace of soap and sea wafting from him.
“There,” he murmurs, letting his hand linger at my wrist for a second longer. A calloused thumb smooths over my palm before he takes a step back. “It suits you.”
“Thank you again.” I touch a finger to the small dog, for Atlas.
“Don’t mention it.”
“Do you want to come in?”
He nods, eyes glued to mine. “Yes.”
I lead him up the stairs to the porch and through the kitchen door. The rooms downstairs are dark and empty. Abandoned cups and glasses are everywhere, and in the corner, the rest of the food is packed up in one of the caterer’s big cooling boxes.
“Are you hungry?”
Hayden’s eyes are still glued to me. “No.”
I swallow. The way he’s looking… he looks hungry. “All right.”
We walk up the stairs as silently as we can. Both of us know which floorboards to avoid, which part of the old railing creaks. I gently shut my bedroom door behind us.
The air between us feels heavy with things unsaid. I sit down on my couch, motioning for him to sit beside me. He doesn’t join me.
“Lily, I…” He trails off and shakes his head. His eyes stop at the photos I have on my wall. Parker, Dad and me on a sailing boat. Riding on Rhys’s back in front of the Eiffel Tower. Mom and I by the Colosseum.
“I missed you,” I say. “I’m sorry for pushing you away.”
Hayden’s eyes snap back to mine. “That’s all right. You were right to be angry.”
“No, I don’t think I was.” I touch a finger to my bracelet again. “This is amazing.”
He has his hands in his pockets, eyes dark. He doesn’t say anything. He never has, really, about what we are. Neighbors? Friends?
Something more?
His gift makes it feel like we’re something more. Something I’ve dreamed about for longer than I can remember. An us. A tangible unit.
I can see the same storm in his eyes, too. He can hide many things, but not from me.
My lips tingle at the memory of his touch. I’d felt like I was close to combusting under his insistent mouth. His hands on me… I thought I had been so familiar with them. Having held hands with him as a kid or seen them working, skillfully shucking oysters together in the summer.
But they had felt entirely new when they were wrapped around my waist.
“Hayden…”
He reaches out and grips the doorpost. To a stranger, he might have looked unbothered. But I can see how hard he’s struggling to keep his expression neutral.
“Lily, we can’t.”
“You keep saying that. Don’t I deserve to know why?”
He shakes his head, but it doesn’t feel like a no. It feels like despair.
I don’t understand why. He had been so responsive last time—he’d kissed me with reckless abandon. I know what I’d felt in those touches.
I know he wanted me too.
“It wouldn’t be right.”
I get up from the sofa. Hayden looks good in a suit. Unusual. Different, even though the scowl on his face is the same. “Because we grew up together?”
“Yeah.”
Reaching out, I run my hands up his lapels. The chest underneath is solid to the touch. “But I don’t see you as a brother.”
His low exhale of breath washes across my lips. “Thank God for that.”
Putting a hand on his neck, I bury it in his dark hair, the way I’ve seen girls do before. My breasts are pushed against his chest—I made sure of that. Last time, he’d groaned into my mouth when he skimmed them with his hands.
“And you don’t see me as a sister,” I murmur.
“Absolutely not.”
His pupils are massive, the heart underneath my palm beating fast. “Hayden,” I beg.
He closes the distance between us. The kiss is bruising in its intensity. My lips mold to his obediently, savoring the warmth.
Hayden sighs into my mouth and wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer against his body until there is no air at all. I don’t want there to be, pressing closer still, my arms around his neck. We kiss like we’ve never done anything else and never want anything else.
He nips at my lower lip with his teeth and laughs when I draw back in surprise. “Can’t help it,” he whispers.
I smile and do the same to him. I’m rewarded with another bruising kiss, his tongue slowly finding its way into my mouth. I kiss him back, my hand lost in his hair and my nipples hard against his chest.
I’ve never felt anything like this before.
We end up on my sofa, somehow, both of us pulling down the other. I land on his lap, a thigh on either side of him, my dress riding high. Hayden presses kisses along my jaw and neck, down across my collarbone, setting my body on fire. Everything feels hot—too hot.
His hands cup my breasts, reverently, and I gasp as he smooths his thumbs over my nipples. His lips travel upwards again, back to my jaw and my ear.
I reach down to the zipper at the side of my dress, feeling brave. This is going to happen. I want him, and he wants me, and I have him here with me. I want to feel his skin against mine. Nerves race through my system as I grab ahold of the zipper.
Long fingers circle my wrists. “No.”
“No?”
Hayden shakes his head. “No. We’re not going further than this, not right now.”
I frown at him. This burning feeling, the one I’m falling in love with, pulses throughout my body. I don’t want to stop touching him, and I don’t want him to stop touching me.
“Why?”
“Because it would be too fast.”
“But—"
He leans in closer, putting his lips right next to my ear. “You have nothing to prove, Lily.”
I sigh, relaxing against him. “You kno
w I hate it when you say no to me.”
“I know,” he says, laughter in his voice. “But I’m not pulling rank. Just slowing things down.”
“Fine. You’re too moral for your own good.”
“Only for your good.”
“If people knew,” I say darkly, pressing a kiss to his neck, “just how moral you are.”
“I’d never be able to show my face in these parts again,” he murmurs against my cheek. His voice is husky, the warmth between us still there. Just because we’ve stopped doesn’t mean our bodies have stopped desiring. And I can feel his arousal, thick underneath me.
Hayden Cole is hard because of me. The simple fact makes my mouth dry. He wants me.
I move off his lap, sitting to the side of him, and press my lips to his neck. “But you want me?”
Hayden swallows. “You know I do, Lils.”
My hand creeps across his thigh. I’m so nervous I can barely get the words out, but there’s pleasure in that, too. In knowing that I’m the reason his breath comes fast. That he’s as lost to this as I am.
“Lily…”
I pause, my hand by his zipper. “We don’t have to go further than this. I just want to…” I can’t say it. He’s silent, hanging on to my words, amber eyes gazing into my own. It takes me a minute to find the courage. “I just want to see how much you want me.”
Hayden swears, and I take it as encouragement. I run my hand over the hardness in his jeans and his head falls back against the couch. “Shit.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
He swallows. “You should, baby.”
“That’s not an answer.” I lean forward and press a kiss to his lips again. They’re soft against mine, moving insistently. His hips buck lightly against my hand and I feel giddy with power.
I tug the zipper down and reach inside.
There’s a bit of fumbling at first before I manage to close my hand around the hot skin. Hayden lets out a faint groan. “Lily…”
I try to pull his jeans down. He helps me, tugging at them with harsh movements, until they’re tucked underneath his hardness. I glance from his face, nearly pained with need, to the clear evidence of it.
He’s big against his stomach. Swollen and red, the head lightly glistening. It makes my stomach ache with want. What would it feel like to have that inside of me? Would it even fit?
Rogue: A Paradise Shores Novel Page 11