I shake my head, appalled. “It’s more than sad, it’s disgusting. Who would do that? Sleep with someone just to make some money spilling the intimate details? That’s bullshit.”
Karen and Daisy are both looking at me with slightly alarmed expressions and I realize I’ve been waving my hands a little while I talked—and I might be raising my voice in anger, just a little bit. I guess the topic just hits a little too close to home, after my doubts about Reed’s perception of me.
“I agree with you,” Daisy says, patting my arm. “But you don’t have to freak out on his behalf. He’s a big boy.” She sighs, glancing at him again. “And Karen has a point—he is a man-whore. He strings girls along and ditches them without a thought. Maybe this will teach him to be slightly more respectful to the chicks he sleeps with.”
“Yeah, right,” Karen mutters, raising her beer to her mouth. “And maybe pigs will fly. And by pigs, I mean dudes who can’t keep it in their pants.”
I force myself to look away from the depressing sight of a morose Cash, and survey the rest of the New Year’s party. He’s definitely the only one who doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself. The boys have invited half the guests at the hotel, as well as what I can only assume are a few locals. I have a feeling Cash, before his unpleasant surprise, went around inviting everyone he came in contact with. It’s the kind of thing he would do—wanting everyone to have fun, wanting every party to be awesome.
“God, it’s hot out here,” Karen mutters, bringing her beer bottle up to the back of her neck and holding it against her skin for a long moment. “You’d think it would cool off when the sun went down.”
“You could have worn a slightly smaller dress,” Daisy tells her, totally straight-faced. “It’s probably all that fabric that’s making you warm.”
I snort. Karen is dressed for the party in a minuscule scrap of hot pink fabric. The chiffon dress is no more than a glorified tank top. Of course, she looks freaking fantastic in it. Her diligence in sun-bathing has paid off and her long legs and slender arms are a smooth shade of golden brown. The sun has also had the effect of bleaching out her already white-blond hair, and the lighter color is striking next to her tan.
I look down at my own arm—yup, still as pasty white as the day we left home. I just don’t have the tanning gene, I guess, though I have to religiously apply sunscreen to keep from burning.
Karen is flipping off Daisy, who’s cackling loudly at her own joke when I see him for the first time. He’s on the other side of the patio talking to one of the roadies, Oscar. They’re standing directly under one of the tiki torches the staff used to line the patio. He’s wearing his usual cargo shorts but instead of a wrinkled tee he’s chosen a white linen button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. The top several buttons are undone, giving off a fantastic view of his chest. Talk about tan—Reed looks like some kind of golden idol, his blond hair tied back at the neck.
My throat suddenly feels dry, and I gulp my beer, ordering myself to look away. Someone will see me if I keep staring like this—Daisy, more than likely. Besides, we agreed to be just friends. And friends don’t ogle each other from across the patio.
But there’s so much to ogle. He’s so freaking gorgeous, and, judging by the darting eyes of half the girls at the patio, I’m not the only one to notice. In fact, one of those girls—a skinny redhead in a white sarong—is approaching him right now. I narrow my eyes, watching her. Who the hell wears a sarong to a party like this? It’s New Years Eve, for God’s sake, and—
“Holy hell,” Karen mutters, grabbing my arm. “Will you put your claws away?”
I turn to her, confused. Daisy is no longer standing next to her. “What—”
“I called you like, three times. You’re eyes are locked on that boy like a laser. Chill out, Paige.”
“Shit,” I mutter, looking around. “You think I was that obvious?”
“Are you kidding me? You practically growled when that girl went up to him.”
I feel a blush creeping up my neck. “Did Daisy notice?”
“The only thing that stopped her was the arrival of Daltrey.” Karen rolls her eyes. “Who she stared at pretty much the same way you’re looking at Reed.”
I chance one more glance in Reed’s direction and feel weak with relief when I see the redhead departing, a disappointed look on her face. Reed has gone back to his conversation with Oscar, seemingly unaffected by whatever pick-up line she tried on him.
“God, you should see yourself,” Karen mutters. “Seriously, Paige. You need to get a grip.”
I physically turn so that I can’t see Reed anymore. “I can’t help it,” I moan. “Karen, he’s like a magnet to me or something. I’m always aware of where he is and I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of him when he’s nearby.”
I rub my hand across my eyes, trying to dislodge the image of Reed in that damn white shirt.
“This is worse than I thought, isn’t it?” Karen asks softly. She takes my hand, pulling it gently from my face. “Look, no guy is worth fucking up your eye makeup.”
I attempt a smile but I feel like I might start crying at any minute. I knew, from that very first kiss, that I was getting in over my head. Karen had warned me the next morning but I never thought it could happen so fast, that I could fall so fully in just a few short days.
“Come over here,” Karen says, pulling me toward a cluster of wicker lawn chairs in the grass. I collapse into an oversized armchair and she squeezes in next to me. “Okay, spill.”
“Like you need me to say it,” I mutter. I glance back to where Reed stood but the crowd of the party is blocking my view of him. I don’t know if I should be relieved or upset.
“You’re into him, obviously,” Karen says. “But how bad is it?”
I blow out all the air in my lungs. “It’s bad, Karen. Really bad. I tried not to, I swear I did. But he’s just... he’s, like, perfect.” I give her a wry smile. “You can say I told you so.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “When do I ever say that to you?”
“You did, though. Warn me. You knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it together if I hooked up with him.”
“Well, it’s too late for that now,” she says, all business like. “There’s no point in berating yourself. A gorgeous, talented, great guy wanted to go to bed with you. Not many could have resisted that.”
“What am I going to do now?” I ask her. “Because I have to go on tour with them, you know. Work in close proximity.” I shiver a little in spite of the still humid air. “Sleep on that bus with him.”
“Maybe a little distance will help,” she offers. “The tour doesn’t start for two weeks yet. So you’ll go home and get some space.”
“And then go straight to no space,” I point out. “You know how crowded those venues are, not to mention the bus.” I can’t decide if the thought is enticing or torturous, being that close to him on a daily, twenty-four hour basis.
“Yeah, but you won’t be in paradise, watching him frolicking in the sun, and shit like that.” I giggle at the idea of Reed frolicking. “You’re going to be in dingy, winter-grey urban areas. How do you know that this infatuation isn’t at least partly based on the fact that we’re in paradise?”
She does have a point. Most of this trip has felt like a total fantasy to me—a dangerous prospect for a romantic like me. Maybe in the cold light of a grungy Midwestern day he won’t seem quite so perfect. The last tour, though a dream come true, had quickly lost its shine of perfection under the drudgery of hard work and grimy venues.
“I hope you’re right,” I tell her. “I really do. I don’t want to embarrass myself, Karen.”
“Reed wouldn’t embarrass you. He is a good guy, Paige. You’re totally right about that.”
A good guy. I think about him building the sandcastle, how he allowed himself to get lost in the fun of it. The way his face looked when he talked about taking care of his brothers, about his responsibility to the band. How he had
listened so steadily, with no judgment in his face, when I told him about my ADHD and my family.
“Oh, God,” Karen says, her voice sounding strangely far away. I shake my head to clear it—she’s staring at me, shaking her head. “Forget I said anything about him being a good guy. You look like an idiot when you think about him, by the way.”
I smack her arm and she squeals, smacking me back. I grab a strand of her hair, pulling it in a twisting motion—a particularly cruel injury and she screams, half laughing, as she reaches for my fingers.
“Ladies,” a voice says from the darkness beside us. Karen drops my fingers before she could twist them as Lennon steps into view. “I was coming over to invite you to dance. I had no idea I would need to break up a fight. That looked pretty vicious.”
“You should remember that, Len,” Karen says, “and stay on our good side.”
He grins down at us. “So how ’bout it? You guys want to dance? We thought a big dance party might cheer Cash up a little bit. Or would you rather continue to fight like ten-year-old girls?”
“Hey, we don’t fight like ten-year-olds,” Karen says, standing. “Don’t make me demonstrate on you.”
Lennon looks to me. “How ’bout you, Paige? Dancing?”
“I never say no to dancing.”
Karen and I follow Lennon out to the area of the patio designated as the dance floor. Daltrey and Daisy are forcibly pulling Cash out to dance. I don’t see Reed and breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe a little dancing—and a few more drinks—will help me chill out enough to deal with being in the same space as him.
“Come on,” Daisy says firmly, giving Cash a final push. “You’ve been looking forward to this party for ages. That’s enough sulking for one night.”
“I’m a little pissed off, Dais,” he snarls. “That chick—”
“Stop thinking about chicks,” Lennon tells him. “You’re here with your friends and your brothers. How ’bout you have fun with us for once, instead of thinking about your dick for a while.”
Cash actually cracks a smile at that. “Well, if I’m going to party I’m going to need some refreshment.”
“On it,” Reed says from behind me, and my body involuntarily tenses. He squeezes past me, brushing my shoulder with his arm, to come around and hand Cash a glass of something amber colored on ice. “Finest whiskey, brother. Just for you.”
So, that explains where Reed was, I think to myself. Now that he’s close to me, I find that I’m averting my eyes. It was easier to stare at him from a distance—this close and I feel like I might combust if I catch his eye.
“Let’s toast,” he says, holding up his own glass. “To a great year!”
“Hear, hear,” Daltrey agrees, pulling Daisy closer to him as he raises his own glass. The rest of us follow suit. I keep my gaze planted firmly on my bottle so I don’t have to look at Reed’s face.
“And to a wonderful new year,” Cash adds.
“To no arrests this year,” Lennon says, and Daltrey flips him off around his beer bottle.
“And no tell-alls sold to the paper,” Lennon adds, nodding to Cash who grimaces at him.
“To a fantastic tour,” Reed says. “And to old and new friends.”
A few minutes ago, I told Karen his effect on me was like a magnet. I feel that pull now, my eyes traveling up to his face without my permission. He’s looking right at me, a smile on his gorgeous face, and I can’t help but smile back, despite the pounding in my heart.
We all click glasses but Reed’s eyes never leave mine, not even when he moves his glass to his mouth to drink. And when the group starts dancing, he comes around the circle to stand at my side.
“You look gorgeous,” he says, his tone soft. I shouldn’t be able to hear it over the loud music, but I can make out every inflection of his voice.
“Thank you,” I say back, feeling shy. I want to look away but my gaze is caught in his. What had Karen said? Like a laser?
“Seriously.” He takes a step closer. “This dress is amazing.”
I finally pull my eyes away to glance down at my dress, the intensity of the moment making me completely forget what I’m wearing in spite of having spent half an hour picking it out. The short, flowy, indigo babydoll dress is one that I always thought looked nice against my white skin and dark hair, which I’ve pulled up on top of my head in an effort to stay cool. When I look up again, Reed’s eyes seem dark as he stares up at me. He lightly touches the spaghetti strap at my shoulder and I’m pretty sure I’m going to faint.
“Dancing,” I whisper, my throat dry. “We’re supposed to be dancing.”
He turns to the group behind him, looking almost surprised to see them there dancing. He visibly shakes his head before turning back to me. His smile looks a little forced but he holds out his hand. “You’re right. Let’s dance.”
We join the others who are jumping around like idiots to a Katy Perry song. Lennon is waving his hands over his head and I wonder how much he’s had to drink. But then Cash starts the exact same movement and I decide it’s probably just a family trait—rockers out of their natural habitat, dancing to pop music.
The patio gets crowded with dancers, everyone wanting to be just a bit closer to the brothers. The waiters constantly resupply our drinks and I’m feeling pretty tipsy before too long—not to mention hot and sweaty. After a few hours, Cash has cozied up with some girl I’ve never seen before—so much for taking a break from messing around. Lennon, drunker than I’ve ever seen him, is wandering around the patio, dancing by himself, completely off beat. Daisy and Daltrey, too, seem to be oblivious to the actual song playing. They’re wrapped up in each other, swaying gently, in spite of the pounding beat of the music.
I turn to tell Karen how sweet they look but she’s not there—I immediately catch sight of her hot pink dress by the bar, chatting with the bar tender, Martin—a gorgeous local man who looks to be on the verge of risking his job to get a little closer to my friend.
Which leaves me virtually alone with Reed. Before I can start to worry about what that means, I realize that Reed is doing a jerky, awkward version of what appears to be the running man.
I burst out laughing and he gives me a wounded look. “You don’t like my moves?”
“You look like you’re having some kind of fit,” I shout back.
“I’d like to see you do better.”
“Is that a challenge?”
He raises his eyebrows at me, that teasing little grin playing around his mouth. How in the hell can I resist that? I take a deep breath and join him in the running man.
“I’m so much better than you,” he says. “You’re pathetic, actually.”
“Shut up! I am kicking your ass right now.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, can you do this?”
It takes me a minute to figure out that he’s attempting the cabbage patch. I have to put my hands on my knees to support myself, I’m laughing so hard. “What is that?”
“Who cares? The question was can you do it?”
I attempt to mimic his motions but I’m laughing too hard to stand up straight, let alone dance. “Your turn,” he shouts, and he’s grinning harder than I’ve ever seen. I think for a moment before breaking out my best attempt at the robot. Reed is surprisingly good at the move so I go quickly into Beyonce’s Single Ladies dance, which he has a much harder time with.
“You look like a turkey,” I squeal. I think I might actually pee myself, I’m laughing so hard. But then Reed drops down onto the floor, right there in the middle of the crowded patio, and attempts the worm. It’s so ridiculous, his body flopping around on the stones, looking in no way similar to the worm, that I have sink down onto my knees to keep from falling over with laughter.
“I’ve brought you down!” he cries triumphantly, pulling himself into a kneeling position inches from me.
“You’re insane,” I cry, clutching my stomach. “I thought you were supposed to be cool?”
“I guess you bring something out
in me.”
He’s still laughing as he says it, but there’s a serious note in his voice. His eyes go intense, dipping down to my lips, and I realize that neither one of us is laughing anymore. “Paige.”
“It’s almost time!” Cash cries out from somewhere to our left. Then the entire party is counting backwards from ten, pressing in on us, and all I can see around us are shoes and legs as Reed and I kneel on the floor, facing each other.
“Do you think it will make things weird if I kiss you?” he asks, his eyes still on my lips. “Because there’s no one else I’d rather kiss at midnight.”
“It’s New Year’s,” I breathe out.
“Four!” the crowd shouts.
“It’s not weird to kiss someone at midnight on New Year’s,” I continue.
“Two!”
“It’s practically expected,” Reed agrees.
“One!”
He reaches for me and I fall into his chest, his hands coming up around my face.
“Happy New Year!”
His lips meet mine and it all stops—the screaming and cheers of the crowd, the rough feel of the stones on my knees, the humidity pressing in around us from every side. All I know is Reed’s mouth, the feel of his tongue brushing against mine, the insistent press of his lips, the way his fingers clutch first in my hair before sliding down to my back and pulling me closer.
“You’re going to get crushed,” he murmurs against my mouth, and for a minute I think he means by his hands—what a way to go—before I realize that we’re still kneeling on the floor.
“I don’t care,” I whisper, pressing my lips back against his. I feel him smiling against my mouth. Without breaking contact he hauls me up into a standing position and then really pulls me against his chest.
There’s a very small part of me warning that I’m making a mistake, that kissing Reed like this will only make it harder to deal with the inevitable heartbreak when nothing changes tomorrow. But the small part is quickly becoming overwhelmed by the rest of my mind and my heart, both of which are urging me to stop fucking complaining and just kiss the man.
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