by Ana Novak
“Dave was probably paranoid about you cheating because-” Mistral stopped talking abruptly. I knew exactly why.
“Because he was cheating on me?” I finished her sentence for her. “Believe me, the thought had occurred to me.”
“Typical projection,” Mistral said. “He knew he was being unfaithful, so he just assumed he had to stop you from doing it, not realizing that you actually have morals.”
“Double standard,” Mel said disgustedly.
“Amen, sister.” Mistral’s voice brightened. “I bet he’s regretting it now, though, isn’t he, Taylor? You came out so far ahead he can’t even try to keep up. Bestselling author, upcoming book tour.”
“Bangin’ new body,” Mel added. “And a hot new boyfriend.”
“Shane’s not my boyfriend,” I said automatically. “But you’re right, Shane is driving Dave crazy. Dave was already texting me once or twice a week, but now it’s every day.”
“He should feel threatened,” Mistral said, giggling. “You’re done with pretty boys. Dave’s got nothing on Shane Kruger. Dave is decent-looking, but Shane is a fucking man.”
“Yes, he is,” I said. “I feel like I graduated into adulthood with Shane.”
“Dave was just your warm-up,” Mel said, and we all started giggling.
“Your starter husband,” Mistral added.
“I was working my way up the food chain!”
“Working your way up? You catapulted to the top!” Mistral exclaimed, and by then I was laughing so hard that the nail tech put my foot down and waited patiently for me to stop shaking.
“Sorry,” I apologized, and made a conscious effort to stay still as Mel and Mistral continued chatting. My phone vibrated with another text from Shane.
I’m glad you’re getting away. You need a break.
I smiled affectionately before typing my reply. I need a break from New York, but not from you. My bed is going to feel awfully empty tonight.
I’ll be thinking about touching you all night long, came his immediate response. You have no idea what you do to me.
I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, I replied. You’re not exactly quiet.
How am I supposed to be quiet when you’re driving me crazy with that sweet mouth of yours?
Oh, my. My cheeks flushed, and I looked around the room, wondering if my expression would betray me. Mel and Mistral were still engrossed in conversation, so I turned back to my phone, biting my lip as I tried to keep my breathing steady.
I want you so much right now, I typed, flushing an even deeper red at the forwardness of my response.
In your mouth? Or in your pussy?
I had barely read the first message when another one popped up right below it.
Or maybe you’d like my tongue on your pussy.
Yes, I replied immediately. I’ll tell you how I like it.
You always do.
I was sitting in the middle of a spa in Tahiti, and all I could think about was getting back to freezing New York so I could fuck this man senseless. I shook my head, trying to clear it, and noticed that Mel and Mistral had fallen silent and were both staring at me.
“Do you need a drink? You’re looking a little…heated,” Mel said, trying and utterly failing to keep from smirking.
If it was possible, my face grew even hotter. “Shut up.”
“You can’t blame us for being jealous of a sexting session at ten in the morning,” Mistral purred, bringing one arm up over her head and curling her hand against the headrest of her chair.
“Don’t let us stop you,” Mel added. “I know how hard it must be to be separated from him.” She deliberately put emphasis on hard, and I didn’t miss the innuendo.
“Hey, I had a long dry spell,” I said defensively. “Let me have my fun.”
“Have all the fun you want,” Mistral said. “It’s about time you found someone who makes you laugh like that.”
I immediately bit my lip, trying to hide the smile that had crept onto my face while I’d been looking at my phone. “He’s good for a few things,” I said, trying to sound dismissive. “It’s enough, for now.”
“Mmm hmm.” Mistral had already closed her eyes again, and Mel didn’t look convinced. I went back to texting, trying diligently to keep my expression blank.
This trip to Tahiti had been last minute. Originally we’d planned on going out to a club for Mel’s bachelorette party, and each of us had marked our calendars for a weekend midway through December. But Mel had called me up the day before, unfailingly cheerful as she’d explained that she’d been offered a chance to stay at a new Bora Bora resort, and it sounded like the perfect opportunity for a weekend away. It wasn’t until we’d been on the plane that we’d decided to make this her unofficial bachelorette party.
“We can still do the one in December,” Mistral had said diplomatically. “There’s no law against having two bachelorette parties.”
“Damn straight,” I’d said, and Mel had concurred. Today she’d seemed just a little sad, and while Mistral had been asleep on the plane, she’d shared with me that she felt like she’d been working too much. She was pinning her hopes on her latest film breaking her out of the rom-com genre once and for all. The script was based on a successful video game franchise, and considering the usual fate of video game movies, Mel was taking a huge risk by agreeing to star in it. Still, fitting it into her busy schedule was wearing on her. We’d only be in Tahiti for a total of thirty hours since she had to be on location for another round of reshoots bright and early Monday morning.
“A short vacation is better than none at all,” she’d justified. And I’d agreed. I was glad to get away from New York, even though I hadn’t wanted to leave Shane behind. Maybe the distance would be good for us, I reasoned. I’d become awfully attached over the past several weeks, and it was becoming increasingly likely that I would be unable to walk away from this with my heart unbroken. I liked Shane- liked touching him, liked kissing him, but more than that, I liked being with him, chatting and watching movies and cooking alongside him. I’d have to be a fool not to realize where these emotions were leading.
The remainder of our spa day passed uneventfully- even my excruciating Brazilian wax- and the three of us agreed to meet in my room at nine so we could hit up the places that Mel had mentioned earlier. I ordered a salad through room service and sat in front of my laptop for a couple of hours, laboring over the changes that my editor had recommended. But my mind kept wandering. I glanced at my phone, thinking how pathetic it was that I wanted to text Shane during my girls’ weekend.
“You miss the sex, that’s all,” I said out loud, and tried to refocus myself. This break was probably good for both of us.
Around eight, I started getting ready for our night out. The weather was humid, so I knew it would be useless to try to straighten my hair. I left it wavy and pulled it up into a loose ponytail, then put on the same dress I’d worn the night I’d met up with Shane at J85.
I was laboring over a smoky eye when Mistral knocked on the door. “Just come in,” I yelled, and then remembered that I’d put the deadbolt on. I put my eyeliner down and ran to open the door. “Hi. Come on in. I’m just finishing up my makeup.”
“Please, girlie,” Mistral answered airily, following me into the bathroom. “Let me have my way with you.”
I sat obediently in my vanity chair while she blended silver mist and azure shadows on my eyelids.
“Any more steamy texts?” she asked innocently, and I fought a smile.
“I knew it was just a matter of time before you asked,” I replied. “I’m purposely avoiding my phone. I think it would be smart to take a break.”
“Are things getting too serious between you two?”
“No.” Except that whatever was going on with Shane was definitely approaching more than friends with benefits. “Yes.” But that didn’t mean it was a real relationship. “No.”
“I see,” said Mistral, her tone amused. “So that’s a no, th
en?”
“No, that’s a yes. I mean, I like him a lot. I think Shane might want more, but I don’t. I’m really enjoying my freedom.”
“You mean the freedom that you squandered so spectacularly for the last year and a half?” she exclaimed. “You were in Cali for over a year and you didn’t hit up a single club. That’s not called freedom, Taylor, that’s called licking your wounds.”
“I wrote a novel, thank you very much,” I said defensively. “I’d call that a lot more than licking my wounds.”
Mistral straightened up, and I opened my eyes to meet her sapphire gaze. “You’re not a player,” she told me, propping one hand on her hip. “You’re a one-man kind of girl. Oh, sure, you might flirt with a few different men, but we both know you wouldn’t fuck a man without long-term potential.”
“I’m trying to change,” I snapped. “I took your advice and had a one night stand.”
“And look where that got you.” She rummaged through my makeup bag and withdrew a bronzer, motioning for me to turn my face toward the light. I closed my eyes. “Your one night stand turned out to be a rockstar who’s kept you hot and bothered for almost two years.”
“It’s not a real relationship,” I said. I wrinkled my nose as she dusted the bronzer across my cheeks. “We’re just friends.”
“Does he know that?”
I took a deep breath. “I can’t let another man tell me how to live my life,” I answered. “I just can’t do it. I’m different now.”
We were both silent as she applied my lipstick. Finally Mistral said, “This is why I don’t do relationships. There is entirely too much angst involved in giving one’s heart to another.”
I made what I hoped sounded like a noise of agreement, focusing hard on not moving my lips.
“All the same,” Mistral continued, “If your heart’s not involved, it shouldn’t hurt to string him along for a while.”
She finished with my lipstick, but I didn’t speak, staring instead at the toes of my nude strappy sandals.
Mel knocked then. “Ready to go?” she called through the door.
I looked up at Mistral. She tossed her flaming red hair over one shoulder, smiling devilishly. “We’ll find you someone to take your mind off Shane.”
“That’s what you said the last time we went out,” I protested, but followed her anyway as we headed for the door.
Mel’s look was toned down tonight. Her normally curly hair was sleek and straight, darkened with brown mousse, and she wore thick-rimmed glasses and lighter-than-usual makeup. Her outfit was simple, a backless pink blouse and flowing wide-leg pants.
“I’m incognito,” she said, grinning when she noticed my appraisal of her appearance. “You think it’ll work?”
“You’d have to wear a bag over your head to keep people from recognizing you,” Mistral said. “But points for effort.”
“It’ll be fine,” I said, giving Mel a smirk. “Everybody will be falling all over themselves staring at Mistral’s norks anyway.”
“Norks!” Mistral and I shrieked together, and high-fived, even though Mel did not look amused in the least.
“I wore this for you, doll,” Mistral said, picking an imaginary piece of lint off her sage-colored bustier dress, which did an admirable job of showcasing the aforementioned norks. Her feet were encased in a pair of stiletto Louboutins that did absolutely everything for her curvy legs. “Are we ready to leave the entire population of Bora Bora panting with lust in our wake?”
“Count me in,” I said. “As long as it’s looksies, no feelsies.”
“We’ll play it by ear,” Mistral replied breezily. She sashayed into the hallway, and I made a big show of prancing after her, deliberately shaking my butt with every step.
Mel was groaning as she followed us. “Why am I playing the straight man here?” she asked rhetorically. “And does everyone have their room keys?”
“Yes,” I said.
“No,” Mistral said. “I’ll ask the doorman to let me in later. There was no more space in my dress.”
“Where’s your ID?” I asked, trotting in front of her to look her over. There weren’t any pockets that I could see.
“Underneath my left nork, if you must know.”
“How are you going to get it out from there?” I demanded. “It’s not like you can take your whole boob out to fetch your ID for the bouncer.”
“Doll, no one is going to card me.”
“But you have to start a tab,” I pointed out. We’d arrived at the elevator, and Mel viciously stabbed at the down button like she wanted to it to suffer, still the resigned voice of reason. This happened often when we went out clubbing. Unless Mel had personally made VIP arrangements, she spent most of the night fretting over being recognized.
“You can’t be serious. I’m going to find a man to buy the drinks for me. Or a woman. I’m an equal opportunity moocher. And don’t think I didn’t hear you say you were the straight man,” Mistral said to Mel as we walked into the elevator. “Girlfriend, you know you’re as confused as I am after a few drinks.”
“You make out with one girl,” Mel replied, but I could see the corner of her lip upturn as she fought a smile.
My phone buzzed in my clutch as we were walking out into the lobby, and I fished it out, wondering if I should answer if it was Shane. Should I tell him I’m going out? I wondered, feeling a slight pang of apprehension. We weren’t committed and it definitely wasn’t a relationship, but on the night that he’d woke me up pounding on my door, when I’d looked into his eyes, something had changed. I was no longer so confident that he didn’t feel something for me…or that I didn’t feel anything for him. And that was a scary prospect.
The text wasn’t from Shane, though. It was from Axel.
Are you free for lunch?
I’m in Tahiti, I texted back.
There was a pause, and then another text sprang up. Dinner?
I giggled, and shook my head at Mistral when she looked at me curiously. I’ll text you when I get back to NY.
If he thought I was joking, he didn’t say so. I’ll hold you to that.
“That was Axel,” I told Mel. The hotel’s towncar pulled up in front of us, and the doorman quickly rushed to open the door for her. I followed her in, noting with some satisfaction that he didn’t give her a second glance. Maybe the disguise would be more effective than I’d thought.
“Vai'ete Square, please,” she said to the driver, and turned to me, looking pleased. “I didn’t know you were talking.”
“We’ve texted…a couple of times,” I said, momentarily unsure if him asking for my advice on the best brat stand in Williamsburg counted as an actual conversation. “He’s a nice guy, but he’s only going to be in town for another couple of weeks.”
“Ahem? Who is Axel?” Mistral interrupted. “A future conquest?”
“Not for me,” I said. “He directed and edited the video Mel made for that children’s home in the ‘Burg. He’s so not a celebrity type, though. He runs a YouTube channel.”
“A YouTube channel? How old is this guy?”
“A little older than me, I think,” I said. “Is there an age limit to being a YouTuber?”
“Isn’t that particular occupation reserved for college dropouts who live in their parents’ basements?” Mistral asked, tossing her hair over one shoulder.
“What are you talking about? Some of these YouTubers are millionaires,” I said. “And Axel is definitely not living in his parents’ basement.”
“He’s nice. And he cares about people,” Mel piped up.
“Don’t use him as a boy toy,” I added.
“He’s too nice for that,” Mel said, and we both nodded.
“You’re jealous,” Mistral said, trying and failing to look annoyed. “I may have to meet this Axel. Is he single?”
“Yes,” Mel and I said in unison, and I continued, “Take it easy on him, though. The poor guy thought I was gorgeous. He might not be able to handle Mistral Tremarc
o at full tilt.”
Mistral sighed dramatically. “The story of my life.” She glanced out the window. “Girls, look at the water.”
The ocean waves were enchanting in the darkening light of sunset, pulling away from the sand like a reluctantly departing lover before easing back up onto the sandy shore. I watched it, feeling a tightness in my chest with a source that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Being with my friends again was so wonderfully familiar, and we’d fallen back into our teasing and banter so easily. As much as I’d enjoyed the privacy that came with living in Oroville, freedom from paparazzi wasn’t worth giving up this closeness with my best friends. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind now that I’d be staying in New York permanently.
Chapter 13
Vai'ete Square was every bit as charming as I’d pictured it. The street lights cast a warm yellow glow over the crowd that had already begun to gather around the food trucks and the gazebo-like music stand. I climbed out of the car first, heading straight for the traditional dancers in their tall headdresses and long grass skirts and joining the small smattering of tourists who were trying to shimmy their hips in time with the music. The warm, salty air rolled off the ocean, tickling my neck as I moved.
Mistral sashayed up beside me. “You read my mind,” she purred, writhing so provocatively that a group of guys standing at the food truck twenty feet away immediately fell silent and watched in rapturous awe.
“So much for keeping a low profile,” Mel said. She’d folded her arms across her chest and was keeping a safe distance from us.
Mistral turned and beckoned to our friend, twitching her hips every time she curled her wrist. “You know you love it,” she said. “Come dance with me, lady. It’s been far too long.”
“It’s been a week,” I answered. “But come dance with us anyway, Mel. This is your bachelorette party.”
“In that case, shouldn’t I have a drink in my hand?” Mel asked dryly.
“I’d be happy to help with that,” an unfamiliar voice said, and we all turned to see who Mel had managed to hook this time. I found myself staring into a pair of the bluest eyes I’d ever seen- eyes that were looking straight at me and no one else.