“My ex-boyfriend,” I tell him. The door slams a little harder than it should.
“You didn’t mention the whole boyfriend part before,” he says. “So why is he here?”
“He has a gig somewhere down at Dewey.”
“Gig?” he hisses. “Is he in a band?”
To listen to him you’d think I’d just said Ryan was out on parole.
“Yes, Dad. He’s in a band. And he has a tattoo, if that’s your next question.”
His jaw grinds. “What band?”
“Far Too Far,” I say.
“They play here every summer,” he says, as if this is a bad thing. “So how old is this guy?”
I don’t like his demanding tone, or the way he seems to think I owe him these answers, and yet there’s something compelling about it too. I just wish it was jealousy on his part and not some misplaced big brother-type concern.
“Jesus, James. You’ve now asked me four questions more about him than my dad ever has.”
“That’s because your dad is a selfish asshole.”
“Well, yeah.” He’s kind of got me there. “Fine. He’s 22.” James rolls his eyes. Every answer I provide seems to wind him tighter. “Why are you acting like I’m bringing home a 50 year old?”
“I’m not,” he says, hands gripping the steering wheel. “Are you going to see him play tomorrow?”
I shrug. “I hope so. I told Brian I needed to leave early.”
He follows me into the house, tensing at the shout of laughter that comes from the deck. Ryan sits in one of the lounge chairs, so relaxed with Max and Ginny you’d think he’d known them forever.
“There she is!” shouts Max. “Are your ears burning, Elle? I had no idea you were such a wild little thing.”
I don’t even want to know what they were discussing. Ryan smiles, but it fades a little as James walks up behind me, standing closer than he should—as if we’re together. They lock eyes before Ryan decides to ignore James entirely, pulling me in for a tight hug.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says, kissing my cheek.
I’d forgotten how he looked to me when we first met—before I knew what a narcissistic ass he could be—when all I saw was his gorgeous face and his washboard abs, how amazingly blue his eyes looked against his tan, his dark hair, and his perpetual five o’clock shadow. I’ve questioned the fact that I stayed with him as long as I did, but I can definitely understand it right now.
When he pulls back, he looks James in the eye and raises a brow. “Who’s your bodyguard?”
I introduce them, but neither makes a motion to shake the other’s hand. Just a quick nod on both sides, each slightly threatening.
“The guys want to see you,” says Ryan, turning back to me. “Can you rally or are you too tired?”
“It’s late,” barks James. “And she just worked nearly eight hours.”
Ginny laughs. “Jesus, James, you sound like you’re 90.” She turns to me and Ryan. “I want to come if his bandmates are as hot as he is.”
“We’re all irresistible,” Ryan says, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Right, babe?”
I laugh. “No comment. But yeah, Ginny, you’d probably want to come, if you didn’t already have a boyfriend.”
She stands anyway, and there’s a gleam in her eye that probably shouldn’t be there. I’m not sure if I’m a worse friend if I let her go, or if I discourage it. But I have a feeling she’s about to do something she’ll regret.
Upstairs she sits on the toilet lid, talking a blue streak while I shower. “Those pictures you sent don’t do him justice. If I’d known how completely delicious he was, I would have told you not to break up with him.”
“He can be a complete dick,” I counter.
“Mmmm. I’d be willing to live with that.”
I poke my head around the curtain. “Why is it that you keep acting like you don’t have a boyfriend you’re crazy about?”
“I’m not,” she replies testily. “Why am I not allowed to enjoy myself like a regular college sophomore without everyone assuming there’s a problem?”
When I emerge from the bathroom, she hands me a dress. “You’re wearing this.”
It’s her dress, and she’s a lot shorter than me. “That dress is gonna end just under my ass,” I tell her.
She giggles. “I know. But someone needs to sleep with your ex tonight, and it won’t be me.”
“It won’t be me either,” I reply. “And you need to stay right by my side so Ryan doesn’t get a chance.”
Her smile fades, replaced by something unhappy and a little suspicious. “What would be so terrible about sleeping with him?” she asks. “It’s not like you’d be cheating on someone, right?”
“No,” I say. “I just don’t want to go down that road again.”
She doesn’t look entirely appeased. “Fine,” she says. “James’ head would explode if you walked out wearing it anyway.”
I decide to wear the dress after all.
We get downstairs to find James looking as every bit as grim as he did earlier—apparently my ex’s charm doesn’t work on everyone—and his face falls entirely when he looks toward us.
“Damn, babe,” says Ryan, walking toward me slowly. “I’ve never seen that dress before.”
“It’s Ginny’s.”
“Ginny,” says Ryan, “you’re in charge of her wardrobe from now on.”
“That’s not a dress. It’s a shirt,” grumbles James. “And not even a long one.”
Max shouts at us to have fun as we head to the front door. I can still hear his slightly maniacal laughter when we step outside.
Ryan’s bandmates make room for us when we get to the bar. All five of them met at Cornell—where I met them as well—and they seem to be on the five-to-eight-year plan. Despite what I consider excessive ambivalence about the Ivy League educations their parents are underwriting, they’re all pretty good guys.
Once Ginny is happily situated with the boys, Ryan pulls me aside. “So what’s the deal with her brother?”
I shrug. “He’s just overprotective.”
“Are you dating him?”
“No. He thinks of me like a little sister.”
“No, he doesn’t. He thinks of you like someone he’s either screwing or dying to screw.”
I wish I didn’t feel the momentary thrill those words elicit.
“You’re completely wrong,” I say. “He used to babysit me. He acts like that with every guy who comes near me or Ginny.”
“If that’s true, then why didn’t he seem worried at all about Ginny coming out with us tonight?”
I shrug. “Maybe he just figured, because we dated…that you weren’t a threat to her.”
“So am I?” he asks, sidling closer to me. “A threat?”
“No,” I scoff, stepping back a little. “You’ve probably caught more diseases on this tour than medical research has even uncovered.”
“You know I always use condoms.”
“You don’t wear them for everything,” I say pointedly.
“I can’t catch anything that way,” he argues.
I’m not sure that’s true. I’m also not going to risk finding out. “Well, I can, so the answer’s no.”
“Damn,” he says. “You still give the best blow job I’ve ever had. I trained you well.”
I’d assumed he was hooking up right and left all summer, but it still stings to have it thrown in my face.
“I’m glad you’ve had ample opportunities to compare and contrast,” I snap.
“I’d give it all up if you’d come on tour with us,” he offers, suddenly earnest. “In a heartbeat.”
I thought he might suggest it, and I thought it was possible I’d still be tempted. But I’m not. Not even close. There’s only one person I want, and I’d give almost anything to be sitting with him on the deck right now.
I stay only on principle, but when they move to the next bar, I announce that I’m going home. I ask Ginny if she wants to come
with me, and her gaze flickers to Paul, who she’s been sitting beside for the past hour.
“I think I’ll stay out for a while,” she replies.
She’s been drinking, so I know from experience that there’s no point in arguing with her. Fortunately, I can trust Ryan and his friends not to push her into anything she doesn’t want to do.
Ryan pulls me aside and asks me to come with them, tucking a curl behind my ear like he did earlier. For just a moment he’s the sweet version of himself—the one who played me songs on his guitar and brought me flowers when I got my first D on an exam. But he’s also the guy who admits he can’t keep it in his pants unless I’m there to play watchdog, the guy who never made me a priority. And most of all, he’s not James.
I walk home, feeling defeated in a number of ways. James is waiting when I get inside, holding a book in his hand that he doesn’t seem to be reading.
“Were you waiting up for us?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I didn’t trust that guy. Where is he anyway? And where’s my sister?”
“They went to some other bar,” I say. “They’ll probably be home in a while.”
I sit on the chair opposite him and kick off my heels. The movement catches his attention for a moment. He’d never admit it, but I think he likes my legs.
“Why would you date a guy like that?” he asks suddenly. “Why are you even still friends with him after he told you he was going to cheat?”
“Because he has good qualities too. And to be honest, I kind of understood what he was saying about the tour. When he’s on stage, he’s irresistible—even to me, probably even now. He has these beautiful girls throwing themselves at him after his shows. He was just being realistic, more than anything else. But I don’t want the pressure of being with someone who always has a dozen other offers anyway.”
James’ eyes hold mine. “Any guy who’s with you should be able to get a hundred offers and not think twice.” A shiver runs up my spine at the intensity in his voice. Goosebumps spread over the backs of my arms.
I stretch out my legs, ostensibly to survey the state of my pedicure. Actually, it’s a small test of Ryan’s theory. I want to know if James will check out my legs again.
He does, so quickly I wouldn’t have caught it if I weren’t watching.
“I’m going to bed,” I tell him. There’s something shifting and restless in him. “You’re going for a run, aren’t you?”
“Yep,” he says, tension creeping into his voice. “How’d you know?”
I shrug. “I just did. You get this look on your face.”
I bend over to pick up my heels, with a sudden certainty that he’s going to look at my ass. God knows he’ll see more than he planned on with the length of this dress. I hear it then, just the tiniest strangled noise from his throat.
I go to my room, and he leaves, and it’s not until I’m lying in bed that I realize the most telling thing of all: he wasn’t waiting up for Ginny. He was waiting up for me.
Chapter 17
ELLE
All the goodwill I felt toward James is eradicated the next morning by a single text from Brian, informing me that I’m closing tonight, something that has never happened before. Irritation sets my stomach burning, because this is undoubtedly James’ fault. Fucking with my work schedule to keep me away from guys is taking his protector bullshit ten steps too far.
Ginny blinks at me in confusion as I throw on my clothes. “What time is it?” she whispers. She sounds a little rough.
“9:30. Did you have fun?”
She nods slightly, and then grabs at her head. “Shit. It hurts to nod.”
“It was that fun, huh?”
She opens her eyes warily and swallows.
“I hooked up with someone, Elle.”
“Are you okay?”
“I can’t believe I did that,” she says quietly, pushing her face into her pillow. “I mean, not once in three years have I cheated on Alex.”
“How was it?”
“Kinda good,” she sighs, but this fact only seems to trouble her more.
“Who was it?” I ask, wondering for a moment if it’s Ryan. Wondering if it would bother me.
“Paul,” she says. “The drummer.”
Of anyone she could have chosen, Paul is the most unlike Alex of any of them. He gets a new tattoo every week, smokes a ton of weed, and appears to have no intention of ever graduating. I guarantee he’s never been to a Young Democrats meeting on campus. And he’s certainly not their president.
I think Ginny has some wild oats to sow before she settles down.
Ryan drags himself off the couch when I come downstairs and wraps his arms around me from behind, kissing my cheek. “Hey there,” he says. It feels so natural, as if we never broke up. As if this is the kitchen in his apartment like any other day.
He also has morning wood, just like a regular day.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” I laugh.
“I’d settle for something else,” he says, only half joking. “Come shower with me.”
He bites my earlobe, making me shiver in spite of myself. His mouth moves to my neck, and I find myself relaxing into him, my bones going loose. God, it’s been a long time. Okay, it’s been six weeks, but it feels like a long time.
“Nope,” I whisper, but it’s a little breathy.
“You’ll change your mind after you see me play,” he says.
He’s right. I already know this. His hands are still on my hips, his mouth on my neck, and I know that seeing him play is all it would take to sway me.
“I’m closing tonight,” I say. “I just found out.”
A door shuts down the hall, and he releases me. “We’re back in a few weeks. Will you come see us then?” he asks.
“Definitely,” I reply, casting an angry look at James’ room. “Tell me when and I’ll put in for time off today.”
After breakfast, we all head to the beach. To my surprise, James comes with us, looking so good in his swim trunks that for just a moment I stop hating him. Max and Ryan walk ahead, carrying a cooler and laughing as if they’ve been friends since high school. Typical Max, and also typical Ryan. Why are things never awkward for those guys? I’m guessing neither of them has had a moment like I’m having right now, walking beside James with a hundred accusations in my head demanding to be heard.
“I got a mysterious text from Brian this morning,” I tell him. “Informing me that I’m closing.”
“I’m closing too. I’ll give you a ride.”
“It seems to me that’s the least you can do,” I say bitterly, “since you’re the one responsible for the schedule change. You don’t want me to watch Ryan play.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. And then he has the nerve to smile. “Musical appreciation enriches us all. Why would anyone try to stand in your way?”
“That’s a good question, James. Maybe you should answer it.”
There is no answer, just that same smug look of quiet triumph that begs for a good slapping. Max looks back and forth between us and then stops, pointing at this bush we pass every day, which is covered in purple flowers that weren’t there the week before.
“You see that?” he asks. “That’s the New England aster. It doesn’t normally bloom until September or October.”
The depth of Max’s useless knowledge never ceases to amaze me.
“What’s your point, Max?” sighs Ginny. “Because I feel sure there’s a point here.”
“My point,” Max continues, “is that things don’t bloom because they’re told it’s the correct time. They bloom because the conditions are right.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” demands Ginny. “Because the rest of us haven’t been smoking pot all morning, so we can’t decipher your cryptic little comments.”
“James knows what I mean.” Max grins, walking ahead.
And based on the way James stalks off ahead of us, it appears Max is right.
“W
hat’s his deal?” asks Ginny. “He’s been moody for weeks.”
Max laughs. “I think your brother has some demons to exorcise.”
“What demons?” Ginny demands.
Max’s glance flickers over to me before he shrugs. “We all have parts of ourselves we struggle with.”
Ginny snorts. “I don’t see you struggling with much.”
“The fact that I’m a less principled man than James,” he says with a sigh, “is hardly a mystery.”
Chapter 18
JAMES
We are four hours into work, and not one word has left Elle’s lips that isn’t a drink order. It’s making me crazy.
It was a dick move, setting her up to close tonight, yet I feel zero guilt about the whole thing. She said Ryan is “irresistible” on stage, and it just took 30 seconds with the guy for me to see he wants her back.
I’m saving her from herself.
And I’m saving me too. Because the idea of her sleeping with him makes my desire to punch him in the face almost unbearable.
We close the bar in silence.
“You ready to go?” I ask.
I can tell just by the way she folds her arms across her chest and levels me with her gaze that she’s about to tell me to fuck off.
“And just so we’re clear,” I add, “you are not walking home alone at this hour. So either you walk with me or you ride with me, but either way we are going home together.”
She walks out. I find her a minute later, waiting next to my car with her arms still folded across her chest and a mutinous look on her face.
“Are you really going to spend the whole summer not speaking to me?” I ask. “Over this?”
“Are you admitting you did it?”
“No.”
“Well, I still think you did, but no, going the whole summer without speaking to you seems a little unrealistic.”
I open her door and find myself smiling as I walk to the driver’s side. It’s wrong, how cute I find her irritation. We head down the road, and her silence continues.
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