“I mean it. I don’t.”
He regards me for a moment. “Good.”
“Good? Why good?” Why does he care?
“Flashy, popular guys like that never turn out to be worth it.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s your deal? Did all your girlfriends dump you when you moved here or something?”
“Plural? Do I strike you as the type to have multiple girlfriends?”
“Honestly? A little.”
He laughs again. This one is loud and rich, and uninhibited. It’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh like that, and I can’t help but glance over to see his face, and the bright smile I find there causes me to grin back at him.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he says.
“It wasn’t.”
Gregory has the gall to wink at me.
I just shake my head and tip my Pepsi to my lips. “How’d you know about this party?”
“Some girl with blue hair told me about it at work today.”
Blue hair? “Ginger Levine. Most Likely to End Up on Broadway.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
He blinks, confused for a second, then shrugs. “Anyway, I figured the only way to make some friends is to get out here and try.”
His eyes have been on me most of the time we’ve been talking, but they’re on the bonfire now. I take the opportunity to study him without worrying I’m coming across as a weirdo. Ever since we met, he’s seemed flirty, sort of sarcastic, and confident—a little arrogant, even—but somehow still… sweet. But in this moment, in the dark under the stars with the waves crashing just a few yards away, he almost looks lost.
It’s probably really hard to pick up and move to a place where you know no one. When you’re anyone except Kat, that is. I remember what he said about his dad too, and wonder how long ago he died and if it has anything to do with the relocation. I haven’t been all that nice to him, and I’m feeling sort of guilty about it now.
I think about Kat approaching me at the swings all those years ago, and how uncomplicated it was. I look beyond the fire to the undulating ocean for a few seconds before turning back to him.
“I could be your friend.”
His gaze catches mine again. “This feels like a trap.”
I smack his arm. It’s firmer than I expected.
He just laughs.
“You don’t want to be friends with me?” I ask.
“No, I do. Especially because I already started working on your playlist.”
I look up at him sternly. “I told you not to make me one.”
“I didn’t listen.”
I’m kind of happy about that, but I work hard not to let it show on my face. “What’s on it so far?”
He shakes his head. “I never share a playlist until it’s done.”
