Tahoe laughs and tells her that his mother dropped him on a rock when he was very young.
I kick his ankles, telling him he’s shameless.
He kicks mine back and says that I love it.
Sandy goes back to Callan, but not before shooting Tahoe an air kiss.
“You totally charmed her,” I say, playfully chiding.
He winks mischievously, which fills me with happiness and relief that everything is fine and perhaps the tension between us was all in my head, then he reclaims his drink from my hands and smiles as he leans back.
When his date comes to his side, I find I can’t stand to watch her cuddle up to him. I mingle all night until my feet start killing me and the alcohol starts messing with my motor skills.
I guess I know that I should stop drinking, but I’m finally starting to relax and I’m too determined to have fun tonight to stop myself.
*
I wake up disoriented a couple of hours later and realize that I’m lying on a couch in a room with open windows that allow the moonlight inside. The clock on my cell says 4:14 a.m. I have no idea when I fell asleep, but I quickly realize that someone brought me into the main building of the Carmichael house.
There’s a platinum watch on the coffee table. An eerily familiar cell phone.
I move, and some sort of coverlet rustles over me. Panic seizes me because I don’t know how I got here. I leap off the couch, search for my shoes—which I find nearby—and slip them on. It’s quiet outside so I assume everyone is gone, but as I peer out the windows to the terrace, I realize it’s not in fact completely silent. I hear a female voice, and the low rumble of a man’s voice outside.
It’s Tahoe’s voice, Tahoe and some…girl. His date.
I should’ve known he couldn’t stay away from floozies too long. A woman sits by his side on a long ivory couch. The last thing I want is to see them make out so I guess alerting them to my presence is best.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly.
Tahoe’s head turns at the sound of my voice.
“Hey,” he says, concerned. He unwinds his arms from the back of the couch and slowly rises to full height. “You were pretty wasted back there. You feeling alright?”
I don’t know…
Because his black shirt is partly unbuttoned, revealing a good patch of smooth, tanned muscle. His lips are a little swollen, and for some reason my eyes leap to the woman’s face simply to verify that it’s probably a hint of her lipstick that he’s wearing.
I swallow thickly, wondering if sadness is a side effect of alcohol.
I run my hand over my hair, trying to tame it. I haven’t checked my makeup but since the woman facing me is so perfect, I wish I had.
The woman follows him to his feet, asking curiously, “Are we having a second, Tah?”
“She’s a friend. Her boyfriend asked me to bring her home when she passed out in the booth and he wanted to stay for another round.”
I search my memory to confirm his explanation, but it’s blank. But that same little feeling of rejection that I sometimes get from my parents, as if I’m not good enough to waste time on, drops like a dull little stone in my gut.
“I’m ready to go to my villa,” I whisper.
Tahoe briskly reaches out to the coffee table for his cell phone and watch. “I’ll take you.”
“I’ll go too,” the girl chirps.
The redhead walks with us down the sand, and although I try to hang back, Tahoe won’t let me. He wraps a gentle arm around my waist to keep me steady. I keep looking at his face as he stares down at me too. His blue eyes are clear, so I guess he’s not drunk, but he looks intensely thoughtful. His face is bronzed by the sun, and I can’t stop staring at how the scruff of his beard gives him an even manlier look.
The redhead puts her hand on his other shoulder. “So how did you two meet?” she asks, trying to get his attention.
“Long time ago,” Tahoe says.
“We met through the Saints,” I say.
I unwind myself from his comforting arms and point to my villa. “This is me.”
“I’ll walk you.” He holds my waist again and leads me up to the terrace doors. I check to see that they’re unlocked, and they are. I slide one open only an inch, then whirl around and hear myself slurredly beg him, “Stay. Stay and talk to me.”
He looks at me in the moonlight, studying my face as if I just punched him.
I laugh, then shake my head. “I’m sorry, I’m…drunk. I think.”
He leans me against the window firmly, raising his brows in warning. “Let me let her in the room. I’ll meet you out here, all right?”
I nod happily.
I watch him walk the redhead back down the beach, noticing the woman is annoyed.