Vega: Book Four of The Stardust Series

by Autumn Reed

  It’s fine, Haley. Go out there and pretend like everything’s normal and ignore the fact that you’ll soon be dating, and kissing, five guys who are best friends. It’s only dinner. No big deal.

  And, it was fine. The guys must have sensed I was feeling unsure of myself and the situation, because they did an admirable job of keeping the conversation on ordinary topics . . . until dessert. I had just taken the first bite of my ice cream sundae, loaded with every topping imaginable, when Theo opened his big mouth.

  “So, has everyone made a date with Haley for next week?”

  I dropped my spoon, and it clanged against the edge of the bowl. Theo’s face was a mask of innocence, but I scowled at him anyway. What was he up to? He hadn’t even asked me out yet.

  Chase gave me a soft smile. “Haley and I are going out on Saturday.”

  “Excellent!” Theo exclaimed. “Put me down for Sunday, then.”

  “Actually,” Jackson interrupted, “I need Haley on Sunday.”

  Need?

  He focused those deep blue eyes on me. “I thought we could have the Zenith chat you were promised, if that works for you.”

  My pulse quickened. Jackson was going through with it? “Of course.”

  “Good. I’ll come over to the loft Sunday afternoon.”

  “Do you want the rest of us there?” Knox asked Jackson.

  “No, I’ve got this.” He turned to me. “I do have one question for you before then, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Knox told me that you saw your father last month?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Is there anything you can tell us about where he is and what he’s doing?”

  “Yes and no. I don’t know where he is, but he’s been staying in touch by phone.”

  Knowing I needed to be honest with them, I explained the connections I’d made researching Dad’s old case files—Danny Franco’s unsolved murder and his girlfriend’s testimony about the dark-haired man who visited their apartment shortly before. The fact that Franco had a membership to The Punching Bag, the gym where my dad suspected DuBois was involved in drug distribution. And, I told them about the seven-digit number that was connected to both Franco and DuBois.

  “When I talked to my dad a couple of days ago, he said he’d tracked down Franco’s girlfriend but didn’t tell me anything else. As far as I know, he hasn’t figured out the number’s significance yet.”

  “I can help,” Chase offered.

  “We all can,” Knox said. “Do you think he would accept it?”

  Considering my dad was determined to keep me out of the entire DuBois situation, I doubted it. But, it would make sense for him to take them up on their offer, since they could help him. Of course, he didn’t trust anyone, so that was probably wishful thinking.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. He wouldn’t be happy with me for telling you all of this, but I’m tired of the secrets. Can I think about it?”

  Jackson nodded. “We’re not going to force our involvement, but make sure your father knows that we have the resources and ability to assist.”

  “Thank you, and thank you all for dinner. This was nice.”

  “Not nearly as nice as the party Liam and I wanted to throw you,” Theo said sulkily.

  “Party?” I laughed, then looked around the table. “Who do I have to thank for keeping Theo and Liam under control?”

  “I take offense to that,” Liam said. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to spoil you.”

  “Did you see the sundae bar? If that’s not spoiling me, what is?”

  “A four-layer cake,” Theo said. “One for every month you were away.”

  His smile told me he was teasing, but I could still sense his hurt beneath the surface. I didn’t blame him, any of them, for being upset with me. Would my presence be enough to make it up to them? Or, would I have to prove I was home for good?

  Making It Count

  My phone chimed, but I ignored it, preferring to stay lost in the world of Victorian England. I was consumed by the clashes between workers and factory owners, the tension between Margaret Hale and the smoldering John Thornton.

  When it dinged a second, then a third, time in quick succession, I huffed and picked up the irritating device. There were two new messages—one from Kara, saying she was glad I was back and asking if I wanted to hang out next week, and another from Liam.

  Liam: I decided to skive off work today. Want to join me for some fun?

  Me: By skive off, I assume you’re doing what we, Americans, call playing hooky?

  Liam: My, my, aren’t you cheeky. Interested?

  Me: What did you have in mind?

  Liam: This and that, but I promise a trip to The Penny Ice Creamery will be involved.

  Me: I guess I can be persuaded to get out of my pajamas.

  Liam: I’ll gladly assist you out of your pajamas anytime.

  Me: I walked right into that, didn’t I?

  Liam: I’m glad you realize that. I’ll pick you up in twenty.

  I scrambled up from my chair, whipping into action. Without knowing what he had planned for the day, I grabbed a pair of coral shorts and a chambray button-down shirt, figuring it was a safe choice for most activities. After a quick shower, I left my hair in loose waves, twisting my bangs away from my face and pinning them in place. I smiled at my reflection—Max did an amazing job of dyeing my hair to match my natural color.

  The doorbell rang, and I practically skipped to the door, uncertain whether I was more nervous or excited to spend time alone with Liam.

  “Good morning, gorgeous.” He lowered his aviator sunglasses to assess my appearance. “Love the hair.”

  Gathering me into a hug, he released me without so much as a peck on the cheek. What the crap? Of all the guys, I thought he would be the first to kiss me again, especially now that we were alone.

  He opened the passenger door of his R8, and I settled into the seat, caressing the leather.

  “Are you petting my car?”

  “Maybe.” I bit back a smile. “So, what’s on the agenda for today, Ferris Bueller?”

  “No parades, that I know of, but hopefully you’ll settle for the best of Santa Cruz.”

  “That’s rather vague.”

  He shrugged but said no more.

  Driving through the streets of Santa Cruz was like rediscovering an old friend. All the places I bid goodbye to on the bus ride to San Francisco were mine to explore again, from the stores and cafés to the coastline. Based on the route, I had a hunch we were going to one of my favorite beaches. I had visited this beach a handful of times, but the most memorable was the day the seven of us played Spikeball, followed by a bonfire that evening.

  “I thought we’d start here, before the day gets too warm,” Liam said.

  “I’d never pass up the opportunity for a trip to the beach.”

  After crossing the railroad tracks, I removed my shoes, holding them in one hand as we ambled down the hill. The deserted beach felt like our own private escape, and a gentle breeze helped combat the warming sun. I inhaled, relishing the feel of sand beneath my feet and the sound of water crashing against the rocky outcrops.

  “Long walks on the beach and the promise of ice cream. You’re every girl’s dream come true.”

  “I only want to be this girl’s dream come true.” He drew my hand to his lips for a kiss.

  In the past, I would have called him out for such a cheesy line, but he was too sincere for me to consider mocking him. We stared at each other, and I willed him to kiss me on the lips, to devour me like he had that night in the rooftop pool. Instead, he interlaced our fingers, and we walked along the shore.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Kissing you.

  I tilted my head back to watch the seagulls flying overhead. “How happy I am to be back.”

  “You didn’t like Portland?”

  “Oh, I liked the city fine, but I still missed Santa Cruz.”

>   “Only Santa Cruz? You didn’t miss anything, anyone, else?”

  I pretended to think about it. “Well, I did miss your cooking. Although, Portland has great food. I tried this grilled cheese place out of an old school bus that I bet you would love.”

  Liam stopped walking and glared. “You. Missed. My. Cooking?”

  “Yep. Your cooking. That’s it.” I started jogging to keep out of his reach, but I was laughing too hard to make it far before he gently yanked on my arm and spun me around.

  He brushed a thumb over my cheek. “Gorgeous, no one is happier you’re back than me.”

  “You’re not angry with me for leaving?”

  “No.” He gave me another peck on the cheek, then started walking again. “That’s all in the past. Let’s focus on the future.”

  “The future,” I groaned. “I have no idea what I should do now that I’m back.”

  “What would you like to do?”

  “That’s the problem, I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to work at Zenith?”

  “Maybe. I’m not ruling out the possibility.”

  “What about enrolling in one of the local universities?”

  “I’ve considered it. I could get a part-time job and take classes part time.”

  “Or take classes full time,” he offered.

  “Not without a scholarship or financial aid.”

  “Zenith has a program to help pay for classes, or you could become the first, and only, recipient of the Liam Carlyle Scholarship.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m sure you’d have some,” I paused, debating my word choice, “interesting requirements.”

  “Moi?”

  “Yes, you. And, besides, I could never take your money.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised by your answer, but the offer stands. Whatever you decide, we will help you in any way we can.”

  “I know, and I appreciate it.”

  We meandered down the beach awhile longer, talking occasionally but mostly enjoying the scenery in silence. Liam made me choose where to eat, insisting that this day was all about me and re-discovering Santa Cruz. I couldn't resist the chance to eat at The Buttery, and the food was as good as I remembered.

  “How would you like to score some booty?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He chuckled. “Pirate’s booty. I was thinking we could play a round of mini golf at The Boardwalk.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “Did you have something else in mind?”

  “Nope.” I shook my head with probably too much vehemence. Nope, definitely not thinking about Liam’s booty right now.

  We entered the large building to the sound of arcade games, and . . . was that cannon fire? I stood in awe of the elaborate two-story mini golf course. On my last visit to The Boardwalk with Theo, Chase, and Jackson, we focused on the rides and didn’t go inside Neptune’s Kingdom.

  “Wow, they really committed to the pirate theme,” I said, watching the life-size mechanical pirate climb up and down a rope to the ceiling.

  “Yeah, I thought you might like that.”

  Liam paid the attendant, and we selected our golf clubs and balls before heading to the first hole.

  “How about a friendly wager?”

  “You and your wagers,” I said, thinking back to the day we played tennis at Patrick’s before I pushed him into the pool.

  “Are you ready to lose again?” he baited me.

  I had never played mini golf, but the game seemed simple enough. “Name the terms, and prepare to eat your words.”

  “Not likely. If I win, you spend the night at my place.”

  “Would I sleep in your room or the guest room?”

  He smirked. “Your choice.”

  “And, if I win . . . strike that, when I win, I get to drive your car.”

  “You can’t be more imaginative?” He lifted an eyebrow.

  “Nope, it’s the car or nothing.”

  “Fine, I accept your terms. May the best man win.”

  “May the best woman win,” I said as we shook on it.

  Liam won the coin toss and elected to play first. He lined up at the tee and evaluated the course, took a few practice swings, and finally hit the ball. Mirroring his stance, I stepped up to the tee and, without much fanfare, took the shot. We alternated until he made par and I was one stroke over. Not bad for my first attempt.

  After several holes, I removed my chambray shirt and tied it around my waist, revealing the tank top beneath. Liam tugged at the collar of his polo shirt, his eyes raking over me.

  “Not playing fair, I see.”

  “What? It’s hot in here.”

  He shook his head, returning his attention to the course. I took the opportunity to study him, from his perfectly-styled dark brown hair to his Topsiders, lingering on the way his clothes conformed to his trim physique. Thinking back to the day I went sailing with him and Jackson, I started to get lost in the memory that seemed more like a dream.

  “Gorgeous.” Liam trailed his fingers down my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

  “Yes?” I answered a little too quickly.

  “It’s your turn.”

  “Oh.” I shook my head to clear it. “Right.”

  Feeling more than a little frazzled, I rushed to hit the ball. It ricocheted off the side and got stuck behind the fake rock barrier. Crap.

  Liam placed his hand on the small of my back as he passed to take his shot and whispered in my ear, “Better get your head in the game.”

  You have no idea.

  By the tenth hole, he maintained the lead, but I was closing in on him. He continued to touch me in subtle ways, and I found that the more he gave, the more I craved. I began to wonder if I should intentionally sabotage my game so I would “lose” and have to stay over at his place.

  Liam paused on a small wooden bridge with ropes for railing, pinning me between his arms when I tried to walk past. He was so close to my neck, I could feel his breath on my skin. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.

  “What do you think?”

  “I want to hear you say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “Say: I’m having fun, Liam.”

  I parroted the phrase in a flat tone.

  “Even though you’re losing?”

  Pushing against his chest, I said, “For now.”

  Several holes later, Liam took his shot, then stood near the hole, balancing on the border of the course like a gymnast. I knew he was trying to distract me, but I was determined not to let him. I tapped the ball, holding my breath as it disappeared, rolled out of the tunnel below, then dropped into the hole with a satisfying thunk.

  “Hole in one!” I said gleefully.

  “Beginner’s luck.” Liam gave a nonchalant shrug and finished the round.

  He held back a plastic curtain so I could enter what turned out to be a black-light cave. The sound of cannon fire and seagull calls from the soundtrack were muffled, the lights dimmed and colors distorted. The borders of the course glowed in bright contrast to the black walls and floor, and when Liam smiled a Cheshire grin, his teeth appeared practically fluorescent.

  “Only two holes left, gorgeous.”

  “Yes, and thanks to my hole in one, I’m now in the lead.”

  He stepped closer, gripping my waist, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck. The air between us was positively electric, and I thought I might explode if he didn’t kiss me soon. What is he waiting for?

  “Haley,” he breathed, “I’d like to kiss you.”

  “Since when do you ask permission?”

  His lips crashed into mine, his hands roaming my back before he threaded his fingers through my hair. I responded eagerly, surprised when he slowed the pace. He cupped my cheeks and placed sweet, delicate kisses on my lips.

  Ag
gravated by his self-control, I said, “If you’re trying to distract me in an attempt to sabotage my game, you’ll have to try harder,” and sauntered to the tee.

  After my ball disappeared into the eighteenth hole, I pulled out the scorecard. I’d kept a rough estimate of the score throughout the game, but now it was time to calculate the final results. I quickly tallied the numbers, feeling smug as I wrote each of our scores, then double-checked my math.

  “It appears that I, a complete mini golf novice, won the game.”

  “What? Let me see that.” Liam grabbed the sheet out of my hand. “There must be a mistake.”

  “Check the math. I assure you it’s correct.”

  He stared at the card a moment before putting it in his pocket. “Good game, Tiger.”

  I held out my hand expectantly, waiting for him to return the scorecard. “Could I have that back? I want to compare our scores hole by hole.”

  “Sure you do,” he said, appraising me skeptically.

  “Please?” I batted my eyelashes.

  “No way, gorgeous. That scorecard needs to be burned, not paraded around to Knox, Theo, Chase, and Jax.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  Once we were outside, Liam pulled his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to me. “You’re driving. Next stop, ice cream.”

  “What? You’re kidding, right?” I attempted to read his face, assuming he was joking, while trying not to get too excited at the idea of driving the cobalt sports car.

  He shook his head. “A deal’s a deal.”

  “Yeah, but this is your baby. I didn’t expect you to follow through on it.”

  “I’m a gentleman and a man of my word.”

  “I appreciate that, but wow, this car has to cost . . .” My mind blanked. I had no idea how much a vehicle of this caliber cost. “A hundred grand?”

  “More like one-fifty, but that’s not important.”

  “Not important?”

  “It’s just a car, Haley. Live a little.”

  I walked around the hood of the car, dragging my fingers across its sleek body. Settling into the driver’s seat, I grasped the wheel and tried to imagine myself driving it. I looked to Liam for confirmation, and he held his finger poised over the start button in response. “Press the brake.”