All I Want Page 7

  “Kate needs you. Now.”

  Lauren tries to swing her legs out of the low-slung cabana but ends up nearly tumbling to the sand, so I grab her by the arm and hoist her up.

  She frowns. “Where is she? What’s wrong?”

  “She’s sitting at the end of the rock jetty, crying. She doesn’t want to talk to anyone but you. Keeps saying that only you know her secrets, and you’ll know what she should do. She’s not making sense at all. Doesn’t even want to talk to Damien, and at one point, threatened to jump off the jetty. Well, at least that’s what I thought I heard. I’m not sure.”

  “You’re not sure?” Lauren says sharply.

  Secrets? What the hell? It’s alcohol talking, I’m sure of that. Everyone at the party has been pounding beers for hours, and Kate is probably no exception. But now that I think about it, I didn’t see her drinking at all.

  “The water’s only ten feet there; it’s not like she’ll drown.” I roll my eyes.

  “Shut up, dude. She’s the bride, and she’s upset. And so is Damien. He’s hollering to her and trying to get her to climb back on the beach, but she refuses and keeps telling him to stay away. I think she’s hella drunk. Damien’s also pretty tanked, and you know how he can get. I think he’s worried she’s in love with someone else, or something. I don’t know. They’re both crazy, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Oh, Christ. My brother can be a handful when he’s hammered. This could get dicey, fast.

  Lauren turns, and our eyes meet.

  “Fine. Let’s go.” Her voice is annoyed as I feel.

  As we march on the sand, following my little brother, I rest my hand to the small of Lauren’s back.

  “We’ll pick up where we left off after we deal with this drama, okay? The hotel will be way more comfortable for what I have planned, anyway.”

  I expect her to flash me a flirtatious smile or utter a coy retort.

  Instead, her eyes don’t meet mine, and her face is an expressionless mask. Why do I have a feeling Lauren knows more about Damien and Kate than anyone else at this wedding?

  Nine

  Lauren

  How much has Kate had to drink? Did she pound shots when I wasn’t looking? Like me, she’s never been able to hold her liquor and doesn’t drink much. Like the time when we were in college and used our bad fake IDs to get into a club—and she ended up spending the entire night in the bathroom, hurling.

  And I passed the entire night at her side, instead of dancing with that hot guy from Toronto, whose name and number I never caught.

  Back then I’d laughed it off, because it was hilarious. We’d had to kick out three snotty girls who wanted to use the restroom stall to snort lines, and when they’d seen Kate hurl, their skin had taken on a green hue, too. I still laugh about how obnoxious they were, and how Kate told them off in between heaving.

  Tonight, practically a decade later—Jesus, it’s been a decade, we were eighteen when we were at that club on Chicago’s Miracle Mile—it’s a little less funny.

  Way less funny.

  Being with Max in the cabana was amazing, and I’m annoyed Kate ruined it. It isn’t often I get to make out with a man who’s handsome and kind and a crazy-sexy dirty-talker.

  Yeah, I’ll be having a word with Kate. Still, there’s a nagging twinge of worry. She’d looked so blissed out a little while ago at the bonfire, nestled in Damien’s arms. Why freak out now?

  And oddly, I don’t recall seeing her drink anything. Did she guzzle a ton of booze after I left with Max?

  I practically have to run to keep up with Remy, who has long legs like his brother. We’re headed in the direction of the fire; no, we’re powering past the fire, where a few party stragglers are drinking beer out of red plastic cups.

  Remy and Max give a wave to the small cluster of people as we fly past. No one there seems to be concerned about anything, and now I’m really starting to be pissed. I know it’s Kate’s wedding weekend and all, but couldn’t this have waited until we were back at the hotel? Or brunch tomorrow? What is she so upset about?

  After a couple more minutes we stop. Damien’s pacing, and behind him is a squat wall of rocks extending into the Gulf. Their other brother, Tate, is sitting a few yards away on the sand.

  “I found Lauren,” Remy says.

  Damien takes a few steps toward me. Jesus, he’s big and intimidating. I frown.

  “Where is she?” My annoyance dissolves, and panic rises in my chest, and I think about all of those Lifetime movies Kate and I used to watch on Sunday afternoons. The ones where men kill their lovers. Maybe Damien isn’t so sweet.

  “Did something happen to her? Where is she? What did you do to her?” I demand.

  Max rubs my back, probably in an attempt to calm me down. Damien scowls.

  “She’s fine. She got a little emotional and wants to talk with you. Only you. Not me.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down. Something tells me Remy exaggerated this situation.

  Tate joins our little gaggle, and my eyes take the four of them in. The Hastings brothers are beautiful specimens of manhood, that’s for sure.

  “Why’s she out there?” Max asks, his voice grave and serious.

  Damien gestures toward the rock wall. “She says she likes the end of the jetty.”

  Is that what it’s called? Hunh. I squint into the darkness, searching for her. Oh, there she is. I see a figure hunched over, sitting at the end. Good thing she’s wearing a white sundress.

  “Why won’t she move?” Tate chimes in.

  “She’s upset. Won’t tell me why.”

  For a fake fiancé, Damien looks awfully concerned. I look at him, then at his twin brother Remy. Then at Tate, and finally at Max.

  Max smiles, then bites his lip. An image of his lips on my bare stomach pops into my mind, and I feel my face flush.

  Focus, Lauren. Focus.

  Blowing a breath out, I march toward the rocks and slip my sandals off. I hand them to Max. When I step on the first rock—a flat, slate-looking thing—Max reaches for my arm.

  “We’ll go slowly, okay?”

  I turn to him. “There’s no we. Kate’s not going to talk if you’re with me. I’ll be fine.”

  “You sure? It’s kind of a long jetty.”

  I don’t tell him I’ve never heard the word jetty until now. I make a pfft sound. “I’ll be fine. I’ve walked on plenty of jetties.”

  “Wait. Here.” Max pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps on the screen, igniting the cell’s flashlight.

  “Oh, shit,” I whisper, my stomach plummeting.

  “What?”

  “I left my phone back in the cabana. And my purse.”

  “I’ll send Remy now to grab it. Don’t worry. It’ll still be there. Take mine and use the flashlight.”

  My hand accepts his phone. This is no time to argue or freak out. I never leave my cell, anywhere. It’s like a third arm, part of my brain, an extension of my soul.

  Max must have really gotten to me if I was so distracted I left my phone behind. Or it was Remy’s alarmed voice and news of Kate. Yes, that’s it.

  “Be careful, okay? Sometimes the rocks can be slippery.”

  I nod and give Max a little smile, wanting to lean over to kiss him. But I’m acutely aware the other three Hastings brothers aren’t far away, watching. Maybe he doesn’t want everyone to know we were hooking up, so I refrain.

  Okay, let’s do this. I turn away from Max and begin stepping gingerly, rock by rock. Shining his phone’s light about a foot ahead of me, I get into a rhythm. Step, pause. Step, pause. Some of the rocks are at odd angles, but most are fairly level. I extend an arm straight out for balance.

  Piece of cake.

  When I’m about five feet from Kate, I pause. “Hey. Katie,” I say softly, then move forward.

  She twists her head, looking over her shoulders. I shine the light in her face. Ah, crap, her eyes are puffy. I take a step, and my toes slide against the wet rock.


  “Eep!”

  Kate’s eyes widen, but I recover my footing.

  “No worries. I’m okay.”

  Finally, I reach her and crouch on the rock next to her. She’s dangling her legs in the water, and I try not to wonder about how deep it is here.

  I’m an okay swimmer, but something about water of indeterminate depth makes my skin prickle with anxiety. Hiking up my skirt, I fold one knee slowly to my chest, then the other. Max’s illuminated phone nestles securely in the region of my stomach and crotch, and I try not to think about how I’d wanted him to nestle there only a few short minutes ago. Maybe I should turn the flashlight off, but I don’t want to fiddle with it now and risk not having it when we walk back. So it looks like my crotch is glowing. Great.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask softly, while glancing back to shore. I can make out the four Hastings brothers, standing like sentinels, facing us. “You’re really drunk, aren’t you?”

  She shakes her head. “I haven’t had a drink all night.”

  Weird. “Then what is it?”

  Kate sniffles loudly, then breaks out into a sob. And another sob. Her hot breath hits me, and she leans into my body. Her cries are absorbed by the sounds of the waves lapping on the rock jetty, and into the silence of the darkness. It’s a little eerie out here.

  “I love him,” she wails.

  “Shhh. What? You love who?” I whisper, carefully sliding my arm around her. I thought I’d chosen a wide enough rock to sit on, but it’s slightly smaller than my butt. My right calf cramps, and I have to move my leg, but where? There’s no way I can stretch my legs in front of me.

  I look down at Kate, and she’s swirling her feet in the water.

  Ah, screw it. I ease a foot into the Gulf and then the other, while hanging on to Max’s phone with my free hand. The water’s cool enough to make me shiver, and then I begin thinking about what’s in the Gulf. Fish. Eels. Sharks?

  Shit. Well, Kate’s from here, and her legs are also underwater, so maybe the creatures will eat her first. I sigh and rest my hands, and Max’s phone, in my lap

  “What’s the matter, Katie? Talk to me.”

  “I love Damien,” she mumbles.

  I look out at what should be the horizon, but all I can see is water and inky darkness. Spooky.

  “He’s quite lovable, helping you out like he is. Now let's go back to the hotel, and we can get in our PJs. We’ll get cozy and talk, okay?”

  She sniffles and honks.

  Never mind that I wanted to get cozy with Max. I groan inwardly. Guess the night of no-sleep and dirty sex I’d planned will have to be rescheduled.

  Sorry, Max.

  “No, Lauren. I mean, I love him. I really love him, for real. I realized tonight we’ve spent the last three months together, and they’ve been the best months of my life.”

  Well, that stings. I thought the best months were that first summer in our loft in Chicago, going to parties and blues clubs and attempting to rollerblade on the waterfront. Once we rolled and crashed right into the Bean, that big silver sculpture. Tourists took our photos.

  I don’t say this, though, but inside I’m eaten up with jealousy.

  “He understands me, like you do. He makes me laugh. He makes me think. I feel complete with him. And when he said he’d marry me for health insurance, I didn’t want to agree but I did, and now I love him. I want to be his wife, for real.”

  “Have you told him this?” After inching my arm from her shoulders, I peer down at my glowing crotch.

  “No. I was watching him sing at the bonfire. He plays guitar, and he has a beautiful voice. He started singing “Hey There Delilah”, and he looked at me the entire time he was singing, and I lost it. It hit me like a semi-truck.”

  “And so you fled onto the jetty to cry alone? Wouldn’t it have been easier to, I dunno, tell him?”

  And allow me to bone his brother in peace?

  “Yep. That’s exactly what I did. I fled. Because I’m a coward that’s too afraid to ask him how he feels. I love him, Lauren. I want to spend the rest of my life with him, and I don’t know how to tell him this because he obviously doesn’t want anything long term. I’m a charity case to him.”

  “That is a good song,” I say softly, thinking about how no one’s ever sang a song to me. Dammit, now I’m sad. “Maybe you should tell him. Don’t you think? And I seriously doubt if you’re a charity case.”

  “We’re two days before our wedding,” she wails. “I don’t want him to get cold feet and bail on the wedding because he thinks I’ll get attached.”

  “Okay. Well, good point.” I’m not sure if that is a good point, because she’s not making any sense. Right now I need to move her off this jetty and agreeing with her is the quickest way of getting her butt in gear.

  “And there’s something else.”

  I make a strangled noise in my throat. “What’s that?”

  “We had sex without a condom.”

  I swallow hard. “Aren’t you on the pill?”

  She sighs, a long, thin sound that dissolves into the noise of the waves splashing against our legs. “I forgot to take it this week.”

  Kate…I groan her name in my mind. “But you’re good at taking pills. You’re so used to it, because of your condition. What happened?”

  She shrugs. “I left them at Mom’s house one night, and somehow only brought my cholesterol pills to where I was staying with Damien. I switched purses. And then I got busy, and I blanked everything. Which is why I haven’t had anything to drink tonight. Maybe I shouldn’t drink at all this weekend.”

  Oh, Jesus. Kate.

  “I’m a fucking mess,” she says. “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I’m back on Paradise Beach. And I’m not hating it like I thought I would. I have no job other than bartending at a tiki hut, and I’m in love with my fake husband.”

  She laughs bitterly. “Not the Instagram-worthy wedding weekend you expected, was it?”

  “It’s not like I’ve got my shit together, either.” I think about how lonely I’d been in Italy. “My life isn’t exactly stable, either.”

  “Yeah, right. You’ve got it all, Lauren.”

  “I’m not going to sit here and have a pissing contest about whose life is more pathetic.”

  She snorts a laugh.

  “Katie, let’s get back to the hotel, and we’ll talk about it. Make a plan, okay? Remember how we used to make plans when we were in Chicago? We’ll do that now. If it takes all night, we’ll figure out how you can tell Damien you love him before you get married. Or after. We’ll assess. Figure out where we’ll go from here. And I’m sure you’re not pregnant after having unprotected sex once. What are the odds?” I press my cheek on the side of her head, trying to calculate said odds in my head.

  Low. The odds are low.

  “And anyway, I think Damien probably feels the same way about you. When I got here, he looked like a man who was pretty damned lost without you.”

  Kate moves away and stares at me through her puffy eyes. Her pretty, pale skin is silvery in the moonlight. “Really?”

  “Yep. He’s worried. When I walked up he was sweating, even. Had the most adorable little scowl on his face.”

  “Awww,” she coos softly. She licks her lips and nods. “Okay. Thank you for talking me literally off a ledge.”

  “That’s what best friends are for.” We stare at each other, and I wonder if in a year or two, she’ll tell Damien her secrets and not me. The idea leaves me deflated, because Kate’s all I have in this world, my only meaningful human connection. “You ready to go?”

  “What were you doing before you came out here to find me?”

  “I was making out with your soon-to-be-brother-in law.”

  She breaks out into a fit of giggles and doubles over. “I knew it!” Then she stops. “Sorry to interrupt because of my drama.”

  “I forgive you. I think.” A laugh bubbles in my chest.

  Gingerly, I lift myself up while cl
utching Max’s phone, my leg muscles screaming with achy stiffness. Water runs from my knees to my feet, and I realize it was a terrible idea to get my feet wet. I shake one foot, then another, trying to shed the excess water.

  Christ, I’m only twenty-eight, but the flight from Italy, all the drama today, and the adrenaline of nearly hooking up with Max has left me bone-tired. My legs feel achy, like I’ve been working out.

  “I’m so sorry, Lauren.” Kate’s sniffling and tearful once more.

  “No! Don’t apologize! Don’t cry. We’ve got all weekend. Neither of us is going anywhere. He’s a hottie, though. Amazing kisser.”

  Kate stands up and brushes past me, moving quickly over the rocks as if she’s been training to walk the tightrope for Cirque du Soleil. She’s also barefoot.

  “Wait! You need the flashlight? Be careful,” I call out.

  “Nah, I’ve been on this jetty a million times. Used to come here to think in high school.”

  “Okay.” I’m not moving as quickly as she is, and I shine the light on the path ahead. For some reason, the water’s higher now than when I walked out here, and the waves lap at the rocks dangerously close to my feet.

  Tides. Maybe the tides have come in.

  I glance up, and Kate’s several feet in front of me, almost skipping from rock to rock. I plod along and for some reason, I’m even slower now than when I walked out here, probably because exhaustion has set in. A gust of wind hits me, and I shiver. It’s winter in Florida, and there’s a slight chill in the air I’m only now noticing.

  A wave washes over the entire jetty in front of me, and I freeze. This seems suddenly more dangerous than I bargained for. For all of my jet setting travel, I’m kind of a wuss when it comes to adventures that aren’t highly organized and supervised.

  I draw in a breath and shine the flashlight into the water. A dark form undulates in the deep blue water.

  “Eep,” I cry out, my voice consumed by the sound of the wind and the waves. What the hell is that? A shark? Whatever it is, I shudder.

  I glance forward and realize I’m not too far from the beach, so before another wave can wash over the rocks, I power forward, hoping sheer momentum will get me back to solid ground.