Get Me (The Keatyn Chronicles, #7)

“Tell me what you think of this last dress,” she says, pulling it out.

“Oh, wow. I love this one. It’s a little more mature than the others. No, that’s not it. It’s like rocker chic. It has an edge that I love, but still has an elegance about it.”

“Tell me about how you’re dressed in the video.”

“My wardrobe consisted of a bikini, a bikini and shorts, and a cute little mini-dress.”

“So, it’s sexy?”

“They did choose the skimpiest bikini I had, so, yeah. But it’s how any girl looks on the beach.”

“Except you have a ridiculously good body and you’re gorgeous. My point is, in the video you will look like a model, not an actress. If that was all you wanted to be, I’d put you in the silver dress. If you were a model wanting to be an actress, I’d put you in the feathered dress. But you are Hollywood royalty and this televised New Year’s Eve party is your coming out. Not as Abby Johnston’s daughter, but as Keatyn Douglas, future movie star. This dress will scream it to everyone who’s watching.”

I get tears in my eyes looking at the dress. It’s like I’m standing in a doorway, looking out at my hopes and dreams. All of them there, waiting for me. Acting. A career that I’ll love. Movie premieres. Award shows. Red carpets. Magazine covers. My scripts becoming box office hits. It’s everything I’ve ever dared to dream.

“Can I try it on now?” I ask.

She gives me the dress, but not before giving me a hug.





SATURDAY, DECEMBER 31ST

That many times.





11:55pm





Twisted Dreams and I are on stage. We just finished an interview and now the world premiere of the “Meet Me at the Beach” music video is being shown.

While the video plays, they ask Damian and me to stay on stage for the countdown to midnight.

A makeup artist runs powder across our faces and a producer says, “You’ll be on screen for the midnight kiss.”

“But, uh . . .” Damian says.

“We don’t have time to discuss. And watch what you say. Your microphones will be live,” she tells us. “And, we’re back in three, two . . .”

The New Year’s countdown starts, the ball drops, and Damian looks into my eyes. If they flash back to us, we’ll probably look like we’re in love.

“3! 2! 1! Happy New Year!” we yell as confetti and glitter drop from the ceiling.

Damian grabs me around the waist, goes Ribbit into my ear, and then dips me dramatically and kisses me.

I come up hugging him and laughing.

We get the okay to leave the stage and I immediately find Aiden.

“I need a New Year’s countdown redo,” I say, slipping into his arms.

“You looked like you liked it,” Aiden says, referring to my kiss with Damian.

“It was supposed to look that way. The dip was dramatic so people wouldn’t notice he didn’t fully kiss my lips. Kissing Damian is like you kissing your sister.”

Aiden cups my face with his hands. “Sounds like you need your lips fixed.”

A big grin forms on my face. “That's exactly what I need.”

People are still kissing and cheering. There are more shouts of Happy New Year. Confetti is still swirling through the air. But when Aiden’s face is close to mine and he slowly starts counting down from ten, it’s like the world disappears and there's only us.

“9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1.”

The second our lips touch, mine are fixed.

“Happy New Year, Boots.”

“Happy New Year, Aiden.”

“Next year, and from now on, I don’t care what’s going on in your life. I’m going to be the one kissing you at midnight. We’ll run away if we need to keep you safe, but those lips are mine from now on. No more pretending, unless you’re on a movie set. Promise me.”

“Uh . . .”

Aiden frowns but says, “Fine. Promise me that if we are together next year, I'll be the only one you kiss at midnight.”

God, he is so amazing.

“I promise. Speaking of that, who did you kiss at midnight?”

“I kissed my sister on the cheek and then Riley kissed both of us. I really want to get you home.”

“Why’s that?” I flirt.

His hands move very inappropriately to my ass, giving it a squeeze. “I think you know exactly what I have in mind.”

“Maybe I want you to tell me.”

“We still haven’t used the feather from your naughty Santa.”

“Oh, gosh. We better get going.”





The camera loves you.





3:20am





Of course, we couldn’t leave right then, so it’s already past three by the time we’re all in the limo heading home from the party.

Aiden’s arm is wrapped around me, and I’m still thinking about the feather when I feel my phone vibrate inside my clutch.

Other than a few selfies with everyone at the party tonight, I really haven’t looked at my phone. Cooper told me he’d handle everything. That we should relax and enjoy our night.

I pull my phone out to check it.

There are some Happy New Year group texts, but one catches my eye.