“Westley du Lac.”
We both turned at the voice. I found myself looking into green eyes—I knew this guy, Hollywood, the guy Grayson nearly ended for just holding my hand at Unknown.
“Will I see you tonight? Both of you?” I could feel his eyes.
By the earnest way he watched me, I doubted he was wondering whether or not we were going to make it for Tansy’s annual firework display.
“We’ll see,” West said, then placed his hand on my lower waist, steering me away.
“What’s happening tonight?” I whispered.
“Irrelevant.”
“West!” someone called for him, beckoning wildly. West’s grip tightened on my waist, hard. “Du Lac!” The guy called.
“Don’t move from this spot,” West said. “And stop. Fucking. Talking.” I watched him join some guys who looked like they should be roofying the punch.
With him gone, I searched for Grayson. I hadn’t seen him in over thirty minutes.
I looked out over the room. At Abigail laughing with her sister Gemma. A year ago, I would have thought that an impossibility. Maybe absence really did make the heart grow fonder. The St. Germaines looked entirely bored on their phones. Across the ballroom, Hollywood watched me, his green eyes bright. Giving me goose bumps.
“Do you remember last Fourth of July?”
I turned, finding Lottie had sidled up to me.
“We met on the boat?”
I nodded.
She tilted her head, eyes misty as she recalled. “They’re going to go out on the yacht tonight and the biggest thing they have to worry about is their outfits. I am so jealous of them, Story. I remember spending all week finding that green dress, worrying if it showed too much skin…wishing he’d notice. I wanted Grayson to notice me.”
The life drained from her body again, like the memory stole all her happiness.
“He did,” I whispered.
Her eyes popped, head swiveling when I spoke.
“I was so jealous of you,” I said. “I knew he wanted you, that you were perfect for each other, but I was jealous he kept choosing you, anyway.”
Her eyes watered. “You gave me that pen and I thought I could trust you.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with him.”
She sniffed. “I don’t even think I love Grayson anymore, Story, but… God, it hurts.”
“He’s still there? Like a rusted, flaking piece of your heart?”
Her brows caved. “Yes—”
“Oh my God, Lottie!” Aundi stumbled over, gripping her friend’s arm. Pipa stumbled close by. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Why are you still inside? Only old people hang out here.”
“Wait…” Pipa tapped Aundi’s arm excitedly. “She can’t get drunk.”
Aundi made a pouty face. “What are you even going to do tonight?”
“You could, though,” Pipa said. “We won’t tell. My mom drank with me and I’m fine.”