“Since when do you like Kimber Morello?”
“Since she came into the diner earlier in this little short skirt and a halter top.”
I pull a face. For all his chivalry, Luca is still such a guy. But he could do worse than Kimber. She’s an honest-to-god nice person and one of the few who didn’t smirk at me whenever I passed her in the halls after the whole sexting debacle. Plus, she’s cute as a damn button, with this stick-straight black hair I’d kill for, and she’s a hell of a photographer. This past year when I was Martha Ireland’s assistant, Kimber was her intern. Her black-and-white candids were off-the-charts amazing.
“I thought you liked Eva,” I say, drawing out the vowels in her name. Kimber spots Luca from across the bonfire and tilts her head at him, a clear invitation to join her.
“I said she was pretty—?there’s a difference.”
“Please. You were practically drooling when you told me about her.”
He snorts. “Whatever. Besides, I’ve got no shot, trust me.”
“Why not?”
He waves me off and takes a step toward Kimber, but I grab his arm. “Why don’t you have a shot?”
He raises his brows at me, and I let go of his arm, swallowing some beer to cover up my interest.
“I just don’t,” he says. “If you’re so curious about it, you should ask her yourself. She’s around here somewhere.”
“What happened to ‘showing her the way it’s done’?” I ask, hooking finger quotes around my words.
“Oh, she’s got it under control. But check on her for me, will you? Mom’ll have my ass if Eva gets trashed.” Luca snags one of my hands, pulling it toward his mouth like he’s trying to bite me.
I jab my forefinger into his bottom lip.
“Hey! Damn, Gray! I might need that later.” He rubs at his lip and pouts.
“Then don’t put my finger in your mouth next time.”
He laughs and shakes his head, before his expression softens. “I’m glad you’re back.”
Quick as heat lightning over the ocean, my throat thickens. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”
He huffs a little through his nose but nods. We both know glad isn’t exactly the word for it.
Kimber calls Luca’s name, and he waves at her. “I got to go. And you need to have some fun. Go get drunk. Practice safe sex.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
He shoves my shoulder a little but plants a kiss on the top of my head.
And then he’s gone, his arm slung over Kimber’s shoulders, a laugh already on his lips as they stroll off down the beach.
After I finish my beer, I toss my cup into a pile with the others and search the crowd for a familiar face. But this is Cape Katie—?a lot of faces are familiar, but I don’t really know anyone. A few names. Hobbies. Who so-and-so dated for how long and why they broke up. Nothing that really matters.
I move here and there to keep busy and look interested, giving myself a good half-hour before I can get the hell out of here. With Luca otherwise occupied, he won’t notice and I’ll stay long enough that tomorrow I’ll be able to tell him, “Oh my god, yeah I did see Melody Caruthers hurl all over Layla Simms!” Melody’s sick stench floats around on the sea wind, and I’m just about to hightail it home when I hear laughter erupt near the bonfire. It’s all male and greedy-sounding. I step around a sobbing and soaked Layla, walking toward the fire as music laces through the sand-dusted air.
I see her before anything else about the scene really registers. She’s on top of an old picnic table, dancing with a few other girls. She’s got on a filmy black tank top and white shorts, smooth skin everywhere. The firelight reflects off her hair and her eyes are closed, though she’s not smiling. Her movements are nothing like ballet—?the pounding bass and electronic rhythms aren’t exactly graceful—?but every roll of her shoulders and hips is mesmerizing.
“Yeah! Exotic new girl has some damn moves!”
The familiar voice jolts me out of my staring. Jay claps his hands above his head, his gaze tilted up as his eyes roam all over Eva. His douche-hat friends elbow each other and laugh, but they don’t look at one another. They only look at her. Point their phones at her. Yell at her. Whistle. Jay reaches out a hand and skims it up Eva’s calf. She pulls back a little, her dance faltering just enough that I know his touch unnerved her.
Not one to be ignored, Jay hops up on the table and starts moving. Jesus, he has absolutely no class, but the guy can undulate a hip. He presses close, his stomach against Eva’s back. Her eyes flip open, her mouth parting in surprise. He grips her waist and tries to sway with her. At first, she plays along, but her smile tightens, all of her previous carefree motions gone.
Then suddenly, I can’t see her. Boy after boy gets up on the table, spilling onto its surface like an army of ants. They surround her, arms waving in the air, hips circling, laughs echoing into the wind. Eva’s completely disappeared.
