RiAnne agrees. “Yeah, we all know what it means when a guy doesn’t ask you out.”
“And you know what it means,” Vanessa continues. “It means he’s just not that into you.”
I sigh. This is what has been bothering me. “But he says he loves me. Like, all the time.”
Vanessa shakes her head and rolls her eyes big time. “You know how they say that guys think with their dicks?”
I nod tentatively.
“Well, girls have the same problem. Only they think with their hearts, instead of their heads. Your heart might be in love with him, but your brain knows it can’t be like true love, because why?”
RiAnne answers for me. “Because he hasn’t asked you out.”
Vanessa continues. “And he’s leaving you for a year.”
I mutter out, “And he might not come to my party.”
Shit. Nothing like a big fat slice of reality before lunch.
Sadly, everything they’re saying is true, and I didn’t even tell them how bad it was when we were on tour. My eyes start to tear up. I put my fingers into the corners of them under my sunglasses to try and keep them from falling. “I wasn’t happy with Sander. We were best friends, but you guys know there was no passion. No sex. I’ve always sort of scripted out my version of the perfect life. I thought Sander was it. Now I want a new script. One where both sets of my friends could all be friends. Like the surfers could maybe come to Cush’s parties sometimes and stuff.”
But then I think about that. Brooklyn wouldn’t like those parties. He’d get really pissed at me if he saw me dancing on the bar. My mind flashes back to doing shots off Cush’s abs. How he loved to watch me dance. How he told me I needed to be seen in the dress I wore to RiAnne’s party.
RiAnne sits up in her chaise and puts her arm around my shoulder. “We know, and we’re sorry we pushed you to stay with Sander. We’re not perfect.”
Vanessa doesn’t nod her head in agreement, but she says, “You need to go to the party with Cush.”
“A lot could have happened over the summer. His dad took his phone and his Facebook away. He could’ve met someone there. He could have a new girlfriend. And even though Brooklyn isn’t coming to the party, he’ll be at the after-party.”
“That’s perfect,” Vanessa says. “Leave him at home. Listen to me, and listen closely. While you’ve been off playing all summer, I’ve been safeguarding our future.”
“I know. I’m sorry that I didn’t appreciate that. Really, what you did to Mandy was pretty fucking brilliant. It upset me this summer—made me feel like a mean girl—but now I think she deserved it.”
Vanessa gives me a brilliant smile. “Thank you. I thought so myself. I know people always talk shit about me hooking up with a guy that has a girlfriend, but if I’m single, I can do whatever I want. They shouldn’t get mad at me. They should be mad at the guy. He’s the one who cheated. And what she did was pretty sick. I would never, ever stoop so low as to drug a guy. Who would want a guy that didn’t want them? Hell, all I usually have to do is smile at them.”
RiAnne and I giggle at Vanessa’s confidence, but the truth is, that is about all she has to do.
“You need to text Cush. Find out if he’s coming.”
“You think?”
“Hell, yeah.”
Our waiter interrupts us when he sets three bottles of beer on the little table between our chaises.
“Beer, gross,” Vanessa says haughtily. “Do I look like I drink beer?”
Vanessa prefers champagne.
“They aren’t really for you, miss,” he says to Vanessa. He leans down and says discreetly, “From the gentleman at the bar.”
I glance over at the bar and see Vincent holding up a beer and grinning at me.
“Excuse me,” I say to the girls. “I need to go thank someone for the drinks.”
I don’t bother to put on my cover-up. I mean, we’re at a pool, and he’s seen me in a bikini before.
“Long time no see,” he says, then he tilts his head and gives me a sexy grin.
“What, are you stalking me?” I laugh.
He leans forward and gives me one of those long cheek kisses. “Is it that obvious?” he says in a teasing voice.
“Seriously, it’s great to see you,” I say. Because it really, really is. Vincent looks gorgeous. “So, what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Actually, what I should really ask is where the hell you’ve been? I haven’t seen you on the beach all summer.”
“I was in Europe.”
“You look good. And to answer your question from before, I’m here because I just finished up a lunch meeting. It went well, so I decided to take the rest of the day off. I walked out here to get a beer”—his eyes gaze out at all the women in bikinis—“and enjoy the scenery. Little did I know, you’d be the best part of it.”
I tilt my head at him. “Do you have a room here?”