by Geneva Lee
“What did I do?” I demand.
“You did nothing,” Poppy says slowly. “You passed out.”
“I didn’t have that much to drink.” In fact, I can only remember taking one drink pre-Sterling.
“That’s exactly it,” she says. “Sterling thinks someone drugged you.”
“For real?” That explains the construction crew hammering in my head. Drugs aren’t uncommon at Valmont house parties. Some people want something stronger than alcohol. Some people have too much money. It’s a terrible combination. “I’m going to kill Sterling Ford.”
He’s the last person I remember. Why had I let myself be alone with him? How could Poppy have let him sleep in the same room as me?
“I don’t think you should be mad at Sterling.”
“He’s the last person I was with, and—”
“He found you and then he found me,” Poppy cuts in, officially stopping me in my tracks. “He helped us get you here. He even drove your car home. He stayed with you all night like a guard dog.”
I didn’t expect that. It’s not difficult to imagine the hot and cold egomaniac doing something heartless. It’s a lot harder to imagine him doing something selfless—and he’d done something selfless twice now. He’d been a dick about it the whole time, but, still, why did he care? Sure, it’s the decent thing to do, and if our situations had been reversed, I would have helped him. The trouble is that I didn’t expect that of him, which means I’m either completely wrong about who he is, or I’m actually the bitch in this scenario. Neither thought is comforting.
“Also,” she adds, “he’s really nice.”
“Nice?” I repeat. “That hasn’t been my experience.”
“Maybe you two got off on the wrong foot.”
I want to crawl into a hole until my head stops pounding and I can sort through this mess inside it, but before I can Poppy holds out a plate.
“I made you breakfast,” she says brightly.
Kai clears his throat. He’s been quiet during this whole exchange until now. “You did what?”
Poppy gives a sheepish smile. “Okay, I made toast and Kai tried to show me how to make scrambled eggs.”
“How did that go?” I ask, the weight on my chest easing enough that I laugh.
“Thank God, she’s an heiress,” Kai says as he scoops eggs onto a plate. Poppy drops two slices of toast next to it.
“At least they’re edible,” she says.
I eat slowly, my stomach still churning with anxiety. If they hadn’t been there, what would have happened? It’s not like someone drugged my drink by accident. I try to remember who gave me the cup, but I’d never seen him before in my life. I’ll have to ask Ava if she knew the guy. It’s a long shot, since half the people there were probably new students at Valmont.
“I can’t believe someone would do that,” Poppy says.
I snort. Even now her glass is half-full. Mine is feeling pretty empty, at the moment. “I can.”
“Thanks for letting us crash here last night,” Kai says.
“We were thinking of going for a swim. Care to join us?”
“You don’t have any suits,” I remind her.
“That’s the joy of a GBFF,” Kai says, clarifying when I give him a puzzled look. “Gay best friend forever. I’ve decided that’s what I am for you two. You don’t have to worry about me seeing you naked, because I’m not interested and I think all bodies are fabulous.”
“You might have to worry about half of the garden staff seeing you, though,” I say dryly.
“We’ll leave our underwear on,” Poppy promises.
“I’m not sure what to make of that,” A gruff voice says from the hallway. Sterling stands there, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His dark hair is tousled on top of his head and there’s a hint of stubble on his jawline. He must have to shave every day. I try to peel my eyes away from him and fail. It’s clear he’s only half-awake, because the minute he blinks he seems to realize he’s shirtless. He tugs it over his head quickly, his usual scowl pulling down his lips. “Bathroom?”
“Let me show you.” I hop up from the stool, instantly regretting my decision when my head reminds me that I’m still hungover from last night’s debacle.
As soon as his back is turned, Poppy pretends to fan herself while Kai mouths wow. I glare at them, hoping they behave. I’m careful to keep my eyes in front of me as I lead him down the hallway. They want to wander his direction. Pushing open the door, I dart inside and dig out another toiletry kit. I hold it out to him. “Here.”
“What’s this?” he asks.
“A toiletry kit.” I shove it into his hands but he continues to stare.
“A what?”
“Like you get at a hotel,” I say slowly. Is he screwing with me? “You know, a toothbrush, toothpaste, some cotton swabs. The basics, in case you left anything at home.”
“Is this a house or a hotel?” he mutters.
“My mom likes to have things on hand for guests,” I say, feeling a little stupid, especially when it dawns on me what I said. “She liked to have them on hand.”
“Thanks,” Sterling says quickly like he wants to avoid making this worse for both of us.
When I return to the kitchen, Kai has made another plate for Sterling, but they’re already cleaning things up. “I’ll do that.”
“Don’t you want to swim?” Poppy asks.
“Taking care of this is the least I can do after you got me home and cooked me breakfast.” I look back down the hall. I need to talk to Sterling. I need to thank him for saving me once again. This time, I am determined that it will go differently than the last time. That will probably be easier without an audience.
“We’ll be out there.” Poppy takes the hint and disappears outside with Kai.
My thoughts linger on Sterling’s face when he looked at the toiletry kit. Something had flashed in his eyes, but he’d covered it with his usual cruel sarcasm. All I know about him is that he grew up in New York. I know he’s read Jane Austen enough to quote it. I know that he doesn’t like to talk about his life. I know that he’s never been to a hotel that gives you a toiletry kit. I know that I offend him every time we talk. It’s like I’m programmed to do it. But most of all, I know how little I know him—and how much I’m beginning to want to change that.
When he appears, his hair is damp like he ran water over it. It falls in dark slashes over his forehead, covering his eyes, and I resist the urge to brush them away. He looks surprised when I hand him the plate of toast and eggs.
“I thought you might be hungry,” I admit.
He shrugs like he could care less and stalks to a stool at the kitchen island. “I could have made something for myself.”
Somehow, I don’t think he spent his time in the bathroom wondering about me. He’s just as determined to be obstinate as ever. “Well, you deserve to have someone cook you breakfast after last night. I’m pretty sure we all owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” he says as he shovels eggs onto his fork. His face lightens when he takes a bite. “This is actually pretty good.”
I might be offended if I had cooked it. “You sound surprised.”
“I didn’t think people like you knew how to cook.”
“I didn’t cook it,” I admit. “Kai did.”
“That explains it,” he says.
“What does that mean?”
“Just that if you live in a house like this you probably have someone to cook your meals.” He’s actually not being combative but his words sting anyway. The truth usually does.
“I’m not completely helpless.”
“I never said you were, Lucky.”
“That again?” Him calling me that is one memory I still have of last night.
“Look around you,” he says. “Not everyone is this fortunate.”
“My family worked for this.” The flush on my cheeks isn’t the product of pride though. It’s something else entirely. I have no reason to be asha
med of my family. I can’t change who I am.
Sterling seems to be thinking along the same lines. “And you were lucky enough to be born to them.”
“Stop,” I say, holding up a hand in surrender. We’re not going to get anywhere if we keep up with this feud. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“But we’re so good at it.” He bites off a corner of toast and grins.
I take a deep breath. I’m feeling light-headed again, and I don’t think it has anything to do with last night. “I just wanted to say…thank you.”
“Wow, that looked challenging.”
“It was,” I confess. “I don’t like feeling out of control. I know I was last night. Thank you for making sure I got home safely, especially after I’ve been such a bitch to you.”
“No one deserves to have someone do that to them,” he says quietly.
“I have no clue who did it.”
“If I ever find out who did, they’ll be sorry.” He looks like he means it. It’s oddly touching, given that we don’t exactly have a blossoming friendship. So maybe Sterling is rough around the edges, but it’s obvious that he’s not the dickhead I thought he was.
“Let’s start over,” I blurt out.
“Start over?”
“We didn’t exactly hit it off the first time we met.”
“No, we didn’t,” he agrees.
“So, we’ll start over. I’m Adair MacLaine. Nice to meet you.” I stick my hand out.
He drops his fork on the counter and takes my outstretched hand. His skin is warm and his grip is so strong it feels like he could crush mine if he only decided to squeeze. Despite that, for some reason, I don’t want to let it go.
“Sterling Ford,” he says.
“Friends?”
“Sure,” he says, but he doesn’t quite seem certain about this. Before I can call him on it, there’s an earsplitting shriek outside. He turns toward the sound, alarm on his face.
“Poppy and Kai are swimming. It’s probably a little cold,” I explain, actually a bit relieved to remember I’m not alone with him here.
“They’re swimming in October?”
“Well, the pool has a heater.” I’m not sure what to talk about with him. Now that I’ve gotten the uncomfortable thank you out-of-the-way and we both agreed to give each other another chance, I have to find a way to forget all the ugliness that’s occurred between us. I decide to focus on what he did for me. “You didn’t have to sleep on the floor.”
“I wasn’t going to sleep in the bed with you.” He sees the look on my face and quickly adds, “I didn’t want to freak you out.”
“You could’ve slept in one of the other rooms.” The pool house has three bedrooms and a living area. It isn’t like the floor was his only option.
“And leave you there like that? I wanted to make sure that you were okay. It wasn’t safe to leave you there alone.”
Now I definitely feel like a bitch. Sterling Ford might not be a traditional knight in shining armor. Nope. His armor is tarnished and his attitude is just as bad, but he’s my savior nonetheless.
“And thank you,” I say quietly, “for driving me to the hospital that night. I was terrible to you.”
“I think it was understandable, given the circumstances.”
“Not really.” I shake my head. “I felt helpless.”
“We all do stupid shit when we feel powerless.” There’s not a note of judgment in his voice for once.
I hate that he’s right. I nod, still feeling ashamed.
“I’m really sorry about your mom. You okay?”
“I think so. Thanks,” I say, my mouth going dry. “I miss her. You know…that’s the first time I’ve said that out loud. Everyone’s avoiding the topic. I think they want to help me move on.”
“You don’t move on from that.” He hesitates for a second. “My mom died a couple years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. And I am. I know how much it hurts. I know it can’t be undone. That’s why he came to the funeral. It wasn’t out of some perverse curiosity. He came because we were in this together. Most of my friends have lost parents to divorces. They think they understand. Sterling and I share a bond that neither of us want.
“You sure they’re swimming and not murdering each other?” he says, changing the subject as the sound outside grows louder.
I’m grateful for the segue. We head out the French doors to find my friends splashing each other in their underwear.
“Well, this is something.” Sterling smirks.
“They look like little kids,” I say.
“They look like they’re having fun,” he says.
“Want to join them?” It’s the wrong thing to ask, because I barely have time to process Sterling’s arm wrapping around my waist before he throws me, fully dressed, into the pool. I come up, spluttering, just in time to see him do a cannonball in after me. Poppy and Kai shout their approval at this turn of events.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I scream, peeling wet hair from my face.
“Oh shit!” Poppy looks from him to me.
“Sorry, Lucky,” Sterling says. “I thought you could use a little excitement in your life.”
“Is that so?” I tread water, glaring at him.
“Okay, maybe not excitement,” he hedges, “but some fun?” He no longer sounds so sure about this theory.
“I’ll give you fun.” I dive toward him, throwing myself against his body. We crash under the water in a tangle of arms and legs and possibilities.
An hour later, after Sterling’s clothes finish drying, the three of them head back to campus in an Uber. I sneak into the kitchen through the back door. My father and brother don’t come down here, so it’s the safest option. But the heavenly scent of bourbon chocolate chip cookies, Felix’s specialty, greets me on entry. He pauses at the oven with an eyebrow raised.
“Long night?” he asks, scanning me up and down. I’d foregone the dryer in favor of a large, fluffy towel. He looks at the puddle dripping onto his clean floor and sighs. “I’m not going to ask.”
“I went for a swim.” It’s not exactly a lie.
“Get changed and come down for a cookie.”
I dash upstairs and toss on some yoga pants and a clean T-shirt. Then I head back down for cookies and advice. Felix is always good for both.
He’s pulling the first batch out of the oven when I arrive. I reach for one hot off the cookie sheet, and he smacks my hand away.
“I thought you might need these when you didn’t come in last night,” he says.
“Did anyone else notice I was gone?” I ask.
“They haven’t said anything to me.” He winks.
I swipe a hot cookie off the rack and bite into it. Chocolate and vanilla move across my tongue, but it’s the slight hit of whiskey that warms me up. I groan. “I did need this. You’re psychic.”
“Equally good for heartbreak and hangovers,” he says to me. “What am I dealing with?”
“The latter,” I admit. Felix doesn’t need to know the particulars. I’d rather he think I was out having a good time, having a little too much to drink, then worrying that I was in danger.
“It sounds like your friends and you were having a blast this morning,” he says.
“Sorry,” I say with a frown. “Were we too loud?”
“It’s nice to hear laughter in this house again,” he says, adding quietly, “Of course, I’m not used to boys spending the night.”
“Nothing happened!” Normally, I would have snuck Sterling and Kai off the premises before dawn. It’s not like a guy’s never spent the night in the pool house before. Plenty of my male friends have crashed there over the years. I’d always just been too afraid of what would happen if daddy spotted them to let them stay past dawn. He’s too preoccupied to notice something like that now, but Felix isn’t.
“No judgment.” That’s his way of saying that he’s cool. Felix is cool. But he’s more like my granddad than he wants to a
dmit. I know he doesn’t want to think about me having sex with anyone—not that he has to worry about that.
“I didn’t recognize those boys,” he says.
“They’re just friends,” I say, taking another cookie.
“Are you sure about that?” he asks. “I couldn’t help taking a peek outside.”
“Well, Kai is gay, so I wouldn’t get my hopes up there,” I warn him in a teasing voice.
“And the other one?”
“Not gay.”
“So?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. Felix is the only safe party to have this discussion with. If Poppy knows that I have even the slightest curiosity about Sterling, she’ll never stop playing the matchmaker. Until I make up my mind about what I think about him, I can’t have that. “He’s complicated.”
“Do tell.”
“He drove me to the hospital the night she died,” I say softly.
Realization lights across his face. “I thought he looked familiar.”
“I thought he was kind of a jerk.”
“And now?”
“Maybe I was wrong,” I say.
“First impressions are as reliable as a weatherman — wrong as often as they’re right,” he tells me.
“So, you’re saying I should give him another chance?” I ask.
“It looks like you already have.”
I chew on my cookie, considering this. Sterling hadn’t made the best first impression but neither had I, if I’m being honest.
“What about you?”
Felix has been seeing a local teacher for the last couple of months. As much as I want him to be happy, I’m worried about what will happen if things get serious.
“We have a date tonight,” he says, filling me in on the details. He’s bringing her daisies and some of the cookies. I’m left feeling guilty for not wanting things to move too quickly. It’s obvious he cares about her, and any man who treats a woman like he does deserves to be happy.
“I guess that means I’m having dinner with the family.” I screw up my nose. Family dinners are a lot like a game of Russian roulette. I’m never entirely sure what to expect when I take a seat at the table.
“Look at this as an opportunity,” he says. “A chance to reconnect.”