Adore Me Page 3

  "I know."

  "I'm glad he stopped. I need to keep myself out of trouble."

  "So, back to Mr. Dreamy."

  "I think abs are a given, right?"

  "Definitely."

  "And I think he'd be darker-haired but not dark and hairy. Like, maybe a guy that was blonde growing up but then his hair got darker."

  "Cute," I say. "What will he be like personality wise?"

  "I'm a Virgo. So, I'm pretty organized and structured. My mom says I need someone who isn't like that to balance me. Someone who's creative and free spirited. I don't really care, as long as he looks good in a suit. And maybe wants to get naughty on his desk," she says with a grin.

  I think about Aiden pushing me on his desk, kissing me with his tongue, and setting my panties aflame. "I like guys who look hot in a suit. Getting naughty on a desk sounds fun too."

  Aiden opens one eye. "Are you two talking about sex?"

  Peyton giggles and covers her face with her hand.

  "Speaking about talking, isn't that what we're supposed to be doing? Cuz if you aren't careful, you might just get voted off the island before we even get there."

  He gives me an adorable grin as he sits up and wraps his arms around me. "You better not be serious."

  "I think I'm just gonna go listen to some music," Peyton says, quickly taking a seat on the other side of the aisle.

  Aiden leans over and kisses my nose.

  "Stop that. It won't work on me."

  He scrunches up his nose, then winces.

  I touch it. "Did it hurt bad?"

  He takes my hand and lays it over his heart. "Not as much as this did."

  Shit. What am I going to tell him on Sunday? I'll have to come up with a good lie. One he can't counter.

  "I never meant for you to get hurt, Aiden."

  "When you came to my room, I said everything wrong. I was hung over, my face hurt, and I was so fucking pissed. Pissed that Chelsea said those things to you. Pissed that you believed her. Pissed that Riley broke my nose. Pissed he almost got expelled. Logan told me you asked him about the trigger that led to Maggie cheating on him. I know I was the trigger. I shouldn't have just said no. I should have talked to you about why I said no. It's just that saying no was hard for me. That's what I meant earlier when I said I give up. I'm not saying no anymore. But what I don't understand is why you wouldn't talk to me after. Why it felt like we were over. Why the chapel felt like goodbye."

  Because it was, I think, as I press my fingers into the corners of my eyes, trying to get rid of my tears, and sigh. "I think I may be leaving Eastbrooke soon," I blubber. I can't bring myself to tell him soon means in just four days.

  "Why? I thought you liked it."

  "I love it."

  "So, why leave?"

  "I miss my family, Aiden. Going home for the birthday party was hard."

  "Do you miss your family or miss your ex?"

  "I miss everything."

  The captain comes over the speaker and tells us to get buckled up for our descent into St. Croix, effectively ending our conversation.

  Make a wish.

  5:30pm

  We get picked up from the airport in the Moran's vintage Mercedes station wagon by a driver I have never met and who doesn't look like he belongs.

  The driver opens the front passenger-side door and says in an authoritative tone, "Miss Monroe."

  While he and Aiden load up our luggage, and he herds Aiden and Peyton into the backseat, I text Garrett.

  Me: Is The Crab's new driver one of yours?

  Garrett: How did you know?

  Me: His posture is too stiff for the islands, he's not very friendly, and he has no tan.

  Garrett: I sent two men. They've fully briefed the usual staff about your situation and about how your friends don't know the old you. They have also removed all photographic evidence of you with your family.

  Me: How did you know my friends ended up coming?

  Garrett: Cooper was insistent that there be men at the airport. They were scrambling when you went inside the office.

  Me: Oh. I just bought more hours.

  Garrett: Yes, I heard. Planning on doing a lot of traveling in the near future?

  Me: Maybe.

  Garrett: Don't you dare take off on your own. You get your butt back to school when break is over.

  Me: I'm not sure what I'm going to do.

  Garrett: Tommy told me about your conversation. I agree with getting your mom and sisters to France, but why would you be ready to do a movie at Christmastime?

  Me: Because I'm going to get my life back. Did he get Mom to agree?

  Garrett: She agreed, but they still have to get out of her contracts. It's going to cost them a lot of money, but Tommy doesn't care. I'm flying to Nice on Friday to vet the security.

  Me: OMG!! I'm so relieved.

  Garrett: As am I. Your mom is a wreck.

  Me: Make her feel safe, Garrett, and she'll get better.

  Garrett: You can make us all feel better by not doing anything stupid. When you get back, I'll come to town and we can discuss this plan of yours with Cooper. Because I highly suspect Cooper knows nothing about it.

  Me: I'm tired of lying.

  Garrett: Don't do anything rash.

  Me: Don't worry. Everything will be well thought out.

  Garrett: That worries me more.

  Me: I gotta go. I'll call you after the break. I promise.

  We enjoy the breathtakingly beautiful drive from the airport to The Crab, where we are greeted out front by the staff.

  "Miss Keatyn," the long-time cook, Inga, says as she gives me a mama bear hug, "it's been too long."

  I introduce Aiden and Peyton and then say, "I'll show them to their rooms now." As they follow me across the great room, I tell them, "After I show you to your rooms, go ahead and get unpacked, freshen up, and change. Then we'll meet back here and I'll give you the full tour."

  Peyton stops at an expanse of glass to admire the oceanfront view and the infinity pool below. "This is beautiful," she says, jumping with excitement.

  "Wait until you see your room," I reply, leading them both down the south breezeway to her guest suite.

  "Oh, my gosh," she says, running from the view of her private tropical courtyard through one set of French doors to the view of the ocean through the other.

  I press a button on the wall to light up a screen and quickly explain how to control her music, lighting, room temperature, and curtains, as well as send requests for food, drinks, or any amenity she might need.

  "Your closet and bathroom are here," I say, opening the door to the bathroom that my mom describes as heaven on earth.

  "This is amazing," she says in awe, standing in the middle of the bathroom and taking in the mirrored glass tiles that glitter from every corner of the room. The sleek, pale gray travertine that reflects the colors of the ocean. The spa tub that fills like a rain shower from the ceiling and has views of the ocean. The walk-in shower with its mosaic design on one side and its glass walls opening to her private courtyard on the other.

  Aiden jokes, "We may never see her again."

  "Wait until she smells all the food cooking. She'll wander out."

  Peyton swats her brother but pulls me into a hug. "I can't thank you enough for letting us come here. This is so incredible." Then she goes over and plops down on her bed. "I'll meet you in an hour. Freshening up may take longer than I expected."

  "You can come back through the breezeway or go out on your veranda, take the stairs down, and follow the path back."

  Aiden grabs my hand as I lead him to his room. Even though we slept in the same bed at my loft, I didn't want to assume we would here, and now I'm glad I didn't because I need Aiden in his own room. I cannot fall asleep or wake up in his arms at any time during this trip. It will only make leaving that much harder.

  I show him his suite. It's amazing too, but in a different way. It's decorated in a traditional British colonial style. D
ark wood, pale blues, and amazing views of both mountains and ocean. It also happens to be conveniently located near the path leading to my room.

  "This is great," he says, not really looking. "But I wanna go see your room."

  "Don't you want to throw on a swimsuit or go to the bathroom or something?" I ask, hoping that he does. I have something that I need to go do by myself.

  "I'll come back for my swimsuit," he says firmly.

  "Uh, well, um, okay. Why don't you take that breezeway there?" I say, pointing to the one that leads to the turret. "And I'll meet you there in a minute."

  "Why can't I just walk with you?"

  "Um, well, I have this thing I always do when I first get here. Kind of a tradition. So, I need to go do that and then I'll meet you there."

  He takes my hand tightly in his, letting me know I'm not going anywhere without him.

  "Fine," I say, rolling my eyes and quickly giving in.

  I lead him out onto the veranda, down the stairs, and follow the path to the mermaid fountain.

  "This is the fountain you told me about," he says excitedly.

  "I always visit it when I first get here."

  "Why?"

  I take a couple of pennies from my purse and make a big gesture of handing him one, trying to convince him that this is just a fun, silly little thing I do.

  "I make a wish," I say, avoiding Aiden's eyes as my voice betrays me by sounding hopelessly romantic. I turn toward the mermaid and her prince, close my eyes, toss my penny into the fountain, and make the same wish I always do.

  I wish that someday I'll find my prince.

  When I open my eyes, I notice that Aiden's still holding his penny. "Aren't you going to make a wish?"

  He pulls me into his arms. "I'm standing here with you. I already got my wish."

  I flash him a lame attempt at a smile. Why can't I hide my emotions around him? It's the same way with B. It's like they can both see right through my act.

  "Do you always make the same wish?" he asks me.

  "Um, yeah."

  He nods and hands me his penny. "Take mine and wish for something new."

  I look into his eyes and know exactly what he wants me to wish for.

  Him.

  But there's only one way that could ever be possible.

  Aiden holds my hand--I think to give me extra luck--while I toss in the penny.

  I wish I could have my life back.

  After I open my eyes and watch the penny sink to the bottom, Aiden says, "So, let's see this room of yours."

  I give the mosaic one last, fleeting look, then lead Aiden to the turret entrance, up the spiral wooden staircase, and to the big wooden door. I show him into the round suite with walls of stone, curved window seats, and views of the ocean in almost every direction.

  "Wow," he says. "This is quite a view."

  "You should see the bathroom," I say, pulling him into it. I show him the big tub that sits on a raised stone pedestal and how it opens up to the outdoors. I lead him out onto my curved balcony.

  He looks down and laughs. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair."

  I laugh too. "I used to stand up here when I was little and make my friend say just that."

  He turns me back toward the bedroom. "You have a big bed," he says cutely, referring to what I said at my loft when I was trying to get him to share my room.

  "I do," I reply, eyeing the king-sized four-poster bed draped with mosquito netting. "I also used to gather up every pillow in the place, stack them on this bed, and pretend I was the princess from the 'The Princess and the Pea.' That reminds me . . ." I walk over to the side table and open the drawer, just to make sure it's still there.

  "What's that?"

  I pull the thick book out and show him.

  "Fairy tales, huh?"

  My eyes get teary thinking about how that's all I've ever wanted.

  My fairytale.

  My prince.

  My happily ever after.

  But it all seems so silly now.

  Because life is not a fairy tale.

  In those stories, a prince never told the princess that he was gay. Or that it was her fault he got drugged. Or that he was going away for a year. Or that he got a text from his ex. And never did the princess have to put him on a plane and send him back to his castle. She never had to fight the dragon alone. And she never had to choose between two princes when the fight was over.

  But, then, none of the princesses were stupid enough to make a wish on the moon.

  Aiden gently takes the book out of my tight grip and sets it on the table. Then he sweeps me into a dance, humming a familiar song.

  One of our songs.

  I lean my head into his shoulder and enjoy the dance, knowing this will probably be our last. I try to tuck it away in my memory.

  The way his body fits perfectly against mine.

  The way his lips feel as they brush across my ear.

  The way his hand is splayed possessively across my back.

  He stops humming and whispers, "Let me sleep here with you."

  I stop moving and swallow. I can't.

  I really can't.

  But, oh, how I want him to hold me in his arms every second of each day I have left with him.

  Even if it's nothing but pure torture.

  A life-sized version of listening to our twenty-nine-song playlist over and over again.

  "You told me you wouldn't say no," I reply, hoping that will force him back to his room.

  "I won't. We can do it right here, right now, if you want to."

  "I want to wait," I say. I can't be with him. I cannot be with him.

  "Seriously?"

  "I never wanted to have sex, Aiden. I just wanted to do a little more. And I hate being told no."

  "That's a lesson I think I've learned," he says, touching his nose and laughing.

  "You're going to have a little bump on the left side of your nose. Your face isn't going to be quite so perfect anymore."

  "I'm far from perfect, Boots, but I know that I'm perfect for you."

  My eyes fill with tears again and I can't help it. I kiss him.

  Hard.

  Full of passion.

  Of regret.

  Of I wish.

  Of I'm going to cherish every single kiss for the next four days.

  "Damn," he says ten minutes later, after he's pulled me on the bed and I've finally stopped kissing him to breathe. He pushes my hair behind my ear and runs the back of his hand under my chin. "As much as I'd like to stay here and kiss you, we should probably go meet my sister."

  "Yeah, you're right," I agree, pushing myself off the bed.

  As I run into the bathroom and throw on a bikini, he asks me, "So what were you going to do here all by yourself?"

  "I have a list."

  "What's on it?"

  As we walk hand in hand back to the main house, I tell him. "Just some stuff. It's kinda lame."

  "Tell me anyway."

  I roll my eyes and start reciting my list. "Eat a fish I caught myself was on there, but that sounds gross in retrospect. Do yoga in the sand. Swim with the dolphins."

  "Will we see dolphins?"

  "If we take the wave runners out and just sit there, we might."

  "What else?"

  "Macrame a pair of sandals." I laugh at myself. "I probably won't do that. I don't even know how to macrame. Let's see. Make a necklace out of shells. I do that every time I come here."

  "I'd like a shell necklace," he says, pulling my hand to his lips and kissing it.

  "We'll look for shells tonight," I say as we wander into the great room and find Peyton kicked back, tropical drink in hand, nibbling off a tray of snacks.

  "You need to go change," she says to Aiden.

  My surfboard.

  8pm

  I've given them the full tour, we've walked the beach, and we're now sitting poolside, having a drink and a few appetizers before dinner.

  Aiden is telling us about h
is parents' Thanksgiving safari when Peyton says casually, "There's a guy walking up your beach with a surfboard." She takes another sip of her fruity umbrella drink then asks, "Do people surf at night?"

  "Around sunset they do, but not usually in the dark," I reply, instantly panicking that Vincent has found me.

  But then I turn around and see him.

  He's walking up the sandy path, carrying a surfboard and looking like home.

  "Oh my gosh! That's not just any surfboard! It's my surfboard!" I scream with delight.

  I jump up and barrel towards him as he yells out, "Keats!"

  I fling myself into his arms and plant a big kiss on him as he picks me up and twirls me around.

  "I can't believe you're here!" I screech. "And you brought my board!"

  When he drops me to my feet, I don't let go. The last time I saw him, I didn't hug him like I should have.

  "I thought you were supposed to be here alone," he says.

  Shit, I think, glancing back at Aiden and Peyton. This is going to be hard to explain.

  "I was but they showed up at the plane and--wait, how did you get here? Do people know you're here? What if you were followed?"

  "Calm down, Keats. I flew from Tokyo to L.A. Went to my dad's. Even went to the Undertow and offered to play for them tomorrow night, knowing I wouldn't show up. Then I snuck over to your house and got your board. Glad no one's changed the garage code. Dad's assistant picked me up at the pier, drove me around in circles, and then to the airport where I hitched a ride with a company exec to North Carolina. In North Carolina, I had another plane waiting to bring me here. No one knows I'm here but B and Dad's assistant. Even my family thinks I'm home sleeping off jet lag."

  "I'm so glad you're here."

  "I'm glad I'm here too. Now for what's important. Tell me that incredible creature sitting on my deck is real and not an amazing jet-lag-induced mirage."

  "She's real, Damian, but you can't."