Midnight Heat (Firework Girls #2) (8 page)

“It’s Isabella’s wedding,” I say finally. “I’m not going to risk ruining it. And we’re here in this amazing place that I’ve really been looking forward to enjoying.” I give Ashley a weak smile. “I’ll let them have their fun and I’ll try to have mine.”

“Good for you,” she says, patting my knee.

“But... tomorrow.” I don’t think I can handle dinner with everyone. I’m just going to order room service, binge watch some cooking shows, and get myself geared up for the rest of the week. “I’ll text them and let them know I’m not feeling well so you don’t have to make excuses for me. Tomorrow, I’ll be ready to go.”

Ashley watches me carefully. “You sure?”

I nod, then smile. “It’ll be okay. It’ll be a fun week, right?”

I don’t believe that yet, but I’m determined to believe it by tomorrow.

After Ashley leaves, I send out a few texts and order room service. By the time I’m curled up on the bed watching TV and eating a most delicious chicken and mushroom quesadilla, I damn near have myself convinced it really is going to be okay.

I’m a stronger woman now. I can do this.

Right?

The next morning as I’m getting ready, a rather terrifying thought occurs to me. I immediately dive for my phone and text Ashley.

Me:
What if he told Sam?

My heart pounds as I watch my phone, waiting for her reply. What if he told Sam? What if she’s mad at me for not telling her first? My phone dings.

Ashley:
Has Sam said anything to you?

Me:
No.

Ashley:
Then she doesn’t know.

That’s true. If Sam knew, I’d know it. God, I hate this.

Ashley:
If he was going to say something, I think he’d done it by now.

Me:
Yeah. Okay.

I’m relieved, but not. I don’t know that I like keeping this from Sam.

I go through all my reasoning from last night to see if it still holds. Should I just go ahead and tell her? But in the end I come to the same conclusion. Saying something would only mean drama for Sam, Grayson, and possibly Isabella, and for what? To spare my feelings over a guy I can’t even have? I need to just suck it up and eventually Grayson will be out of everyone’s life and it’ll be over.

My heart clenches at the thought of Grayson being out of my life again, but then I snap myself out of it. It’s not like he’s
in
my life now. He’s here with Sam, and I just need to deal with it.

I consider skipping the zip line and going to the beach with Isabella and Ashley instead. I know Sam and Grayson are going on the zip line. I’m not sure I can handle being
that
close.

But after a few minutes’ consideration, I decide against it. That’s what the old Chloe would do: run. Go the safe route. Trying out the zip line is the thing I’ve been looking forward to most, aside from seeing Isabella marry the man of her dreams. I’ve been wanting to go, so I’m going.

I can do this.

The resort’s massive and luxurious lobby is humming with people, including a crowd that’s here for Isabella’s wedding, from what I can tell. Among the many strangers, I see familiar faces: Isabella and Shane, her parents, a few other family members I met yesterday, my brother, my girls and, yes, there’s Grayson too. The crowd seems to be roughly divided into two groups, though one is significantly smaller than the other.

I go to Isabella’s group first, to apologize for missing dinner last night.

“Are you feeling better?” she asks and I nod. She looks stunning in white shorts and a blue midriff top. She’s obviously wearing a string bikini underneath, since the tie behind her neck is visible. Shane has his arm around her waist. They’re both positively glowing and I can’t help but smile at it. I wonder again if I should go with them. Seeing her so happy is lightening my mood, for sure.

But I really did want to try that zip line. If I don’t go, I’m just going to feel like I’m chickening out.

I chat with them a minute, then excuse myself. I take a resolute breath and go up to the other, smaller group. I stop on the outskirts even though Sam and the others are still several feet away from me.

No need to get too close.

“Is this for the van to the zip line?” I ask the guy next to me. I think he’s one of Isabella’s many cousins, but I’m not sure. He looks maybe a couple years younger than my brother.

He says yes just as Sam catches my eye and waves me over. Grayson’s standing right next to her but they’re not touching, thank god.

I steel myself. I can do this.

I smile at her, thank the kid, and head over, trying not to look at Grayson even though I can feel him watching me approach.

Bobby is there too, chatting with a girl with big blonde hair and a bright pink shorts outfit. She looks like a big bag of cotton candy. She even has on big hoop earrings and heels. Where in the hell does she think she’s going in that outfit?

Bobby looks a little too absorbed in this girl for my taste. I say hi to Sam and Grayson—grateful for a reason to keep it brief—then put my hand on Bobby’s arm, drawing his attention.

He sees me and smiles. “Hey, you made it. Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I say, accepting a hug from him. Miss Cotton Candy gives me a cold, appraising look, taking in my denim shorts and olive green tank top.

Oh please.
Who is this girl?

“Chloe, this is Scarlett,” Bobby says. Scarlett? Seriously? This day just gets better and better. She’s giving me that thinly-veiled, stay-away-from-my-territory look. “She’s Shane’s cousin,” Bobby continues. “Scarlett, this is my sister, Chloe.”

“Oh!” she says, in a ridiculously high voice, her face lighting up. “Your
sister!
Well, hi sweetie.” She launches at me and envelopes me in a hug. I try not to cough, surrounded in a cloud of her perfume. “I’m sure we’ll get to be fast friends!” she says.

“Uh huh,” I say, trying not to be impolite, but she’s already gone back to being absorbed in my little brother. Idiot that he is, he’s lapping it up. What is it with the male species sometimes?

“There are the vans,” Grayson says.

My eyes swing to his face involuntarily. It’s the first time I’ve looked at him—really looked at him, close up—since he got here. I can’t keep my heart from reacting, but I’m trying to settle it down. I really am.

He’s not looking at me, and wasn’t talking to me specifically. Just the group. He nods his head toward the circular drive in front of the lobby, which we can see through the big glass windows. Indeed, there are a couple of large, luxurious-looking charter vans pulling in. They’re actually more like little busses than vans.

“Okay everybody.” Shane’s commanding but friendly voice booms over the crowd. “The vans are here. The first one will take you down to the beach with us. The second goes up to the zip line. Have fun. We’ll see you back here for dinner. Six o’clock.”

Some people in the crowd start shuffling toward the lobby doors, while others are a little slower getting started.

“I actually think I’d rather go to the beach,” Sam says.

Grayson and I both look at her.

“I’m not really a zip line fan.” She seems a little irritated, but I’m not sure because she gives Grayson a smile.

“You’re not coming?” Grayson asks, clearly surprised she’s backing out.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be alone
,
” she says lightly, but I can see the determination underneath. She puts her hand on his chest and smiles at him. I frown. “Bobby will keep you company,” Sam continues. “You two seemed to hit it off at dinner last night.”

I glance at Bobby. He hasn’t heard a word, absorbed as he is with Miss Cotton Candy. My frown deepens.

“And you can get to know Chloe,” Sam presses on, gesturing to me.

Grayson and I exchange glances. I can’t figure out which I feel more right now: panic or irritation. I think I see a glimpse of something like panic in Grayson’s eyes too.

“You said you’d come,” Grayson says, returning to Sam.

Maybe he thinks he can persuade her to change her mind, but it’s pretty clear to me there’s no going back now. He can either go with Sam or go zip lining alone, but she’s not coming. Apparently he hasn’t yet figured out that Sam does what Sam wants to do and not one thing more.

But the joke’s really on me, because here’s what I just figured out.

By not telling Sam about my history with Grayson, I’ve basically given over “rights” to her. I mean, I know it shouldn’t matter, because it’s not like I have any sort of a future with him anyway. But keeping my mouth shut is the same thing as saying, “He’s yours.”

My head’s spinning a bit because I’ve basically turned the tables on myself. If Sam gets tired of Grayson (which she’s likely to do), and if I decided to at least
try
to mend things between us,
I’d
be the one breaking the friend rule. Not Sam.

“You have fun,” Sam says lightly. “I’ll see you when you get back.” She goes up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on him. And he kisses her back. Right in front of me.

Fuck. If that’s not a clear message, I don’t know what is. What the hell am I even worrying about? It’s
over
with Grayson and has been since the moment I walked out on him.

I avert my eyes away from their kiss. My eyes land, unfortunately, on my baby brother tossing an arm around Miss Cotton Candy’s shoulders and whispering something in her ear. I can’t hear a word, but based on the looks on their faces and the ridiculous giggle now issuing forth from her mouth, I get the general idea.

Whatever.

I head for the door. I don’t care who comes and who doesn’t. I’m going and I don’t need a freaking escort. Sam and Grayson can figure things out on their own. Why should I care?

I step through the rotating door and toward the charter van. It’s a glorious California day and I am not going to let Sam or Grayson or anyone else get under my skin.

I hear Miss Cotton Candy and her giggling coming through the doors. I glance back and see her and my brother arm in arm. Grayson’s nowhere in sight. Maybe he’s going to the beach with Sam.

Good. Fine. Whatever.

I turn away and take a deep breath of fresh sea air. I’m just going to do my own thing. I know how to be single. I’m okay getting on the van by myself and having a grand time.

There are four guides near the van doors, handing people forms and pens. One guide—a surprisingly squat, heavy-set man—hands me one and I look it over. It’s the consent form. I’d already read it online so I sign it straight away. Meanwhile, the guide is trying to explain why Miss Cotton Candy can’t go zip lining in high heels and with hoop earrings.

She’s trying to argue, but one of the other guides steps in—a cute, athletic guy with an easy-going air of authority—and kindly tells her she can either change her shoes or stay behind.

I turn my back to the drama and climb the steps. I walk down the narrow aisle and slide across a soft leather seat to the window. I’m purposely not looking toward the lobby doors to see if Sam and Grayson have come out or what bus they might be heading toward. I’m looking determinedly out the window. The drive circles a small, well-kept pond with the resort’s famous pair of white swans floating in the middle.

That’s what I’m looking at when he climbs on board, alone. I sense him, and then see him out of the corner of my eye. The hair raises on my arm, like a little radar warning me of his presence.

As if I needed any help knowing.

He sits on the bench in front of me, but doesn’t slide over to the window. I grip my hands in my lap and watch the swans gliding lazily on the water. The four guides climb on board and the cute authoritative one says we’ll have a slight delay. Bobby and his fluffy pink girl haven’t boarded the van yet, but ten minutes later they finally climb on board and the doors shut at last.

As they pass me in the aisle, taking the bench behind me, I notice she’s missing her earrings and has changed into pink Keds. I get a whiff of her perfume.

The guides introduce themselves, give us a friendly welcome, and tell us to settle in and get ready for a fun day. This accomplished, they take their seats and the van pulls away from the hotel.

Only then do I look at Grayson’s profile... wishing.