Jillian Dodd - Adore Me

“I think this calls for champagne,” I say, grabbing a bottle out of the fridge, four flutes from the bar, and hitting a button on the wall.

Maybe the champagne will calm me down.

Sven comes out of the kitchen. “Yes, Miss Monroe?”

“We’re having champagne to celebrate Damian’s surprise arrival. Can we get a bucket of ice?”

“Of course. Would you like me to uncork it for you?”

“No, thanks. We’ll do it.”

“Very well. I’ll bring the champagne stand out to the deck. Would you like to eat dinner poolside or on the screened veranda?”

“The veranda,” I reply as he retreats to the butler’s pantry.

“We brought champagne,” Peyton coos as she ditches her former seat for one on the couch next to Damian. I notice Damian’s eyes lingering on her long legs.

I hand Aiden the bottle. “Would you like to do the honors? You did such a good job with it the last time we had champagne.”

“And when was that?” Damian asks.

“They went to Keatyn’s loft in New York City a few weeks ago,” Peyton says dreamily as Damian squints at me. I shake my head slightly, letting him know that now is not the time for him to ask about the loft.

Aiden pops the champagne and we all stand as he fills our glasses. Then he raises his own in a toast. “‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.’”

“That’s beautiful,” Peyton says as we clink glasses.

“And especially true, since we’re surrounded by nothing but beauty,” Damian says, holding Peyton’s gaze.

I grasp my chair and slowly sit. My mind replays B saying the same quote right before he kissed me. And how he recently texted me the rest of the quote. How I used it in my script.

I’m really starting to hate poetry.

“More Keats, huh?” I say to Aiden while Peyton and Damian flirt.

“I realize it’s risky, but it was one of the texts I sent you.”

“You mean one of the texts that you deleted.”

“Yes. I think I was somewhere between pathetic and desperate at that point.”

“What do you think it means?”

He takes a swig of his champagne, like it will give him confidence, as Sven returns with the champagne bucket.

“Dinner is served on the veranda,” he says. “Shall I move the champagne there?”

“Absolutely,” Damian replies excitedly. “I’m starved. What’s on the menu tonight?”

“Miss Monroe requested Kobe burgers—”

“With your homemade jerk sauce?” Damian interrupts.

“Of course,” the butler replies, with mock indignation. “Inga wouldn’t dare use anything else.”

“And there’s homemade French fries with her secret seasoned dip,” I tell Damian. “Your favorite.”

Peyton and Damian gather up their glasses and head toward the veranda.

Aiden grabs my pinky with his. “I think it means that love is a thing of beauty. That it never fades away. I’m sorry I was a jerk. I just thought . . .”

“It’s okay. You reacted and walked away,” I say, suddenly feeling sad. Mostly because I know he’s going to do the same thing in a few days. Only this time, he’ll walk out of my life for good. “Why don’t you go on to dinner? I don’t want to leave my board outside. I’ll just be a minute, but don’t wait for me.”

I turn and walk down to the sand, leaving Aiden standing there alone.

I pick my board up and lovingly wipe the sand off it. I remember practically passing out when B surprised me with it on my sixteenth birthday. How he told me I’d outgrown my beginner’s board. I run my hand across the hot pink and orange graphics that he designed and notice something new. Running down one of the rails is a sticker in flowing script.

I close my eyes, fighting back tears for the hundredth time today, and wonder when he added it. It had to be after he knew he was leaving, but before my party. It’s exactly the kind of sweet thing he would’ve done. And I know exactly what I would’ve done once I’d seen it. I’d have taken my board out into the water and had a good cry; then I would’ve gotten my ass on a plane to wherever he was.

And, after hearing his side of the story, that’s probably exactly what he had hoped for.

It would have been romantic and dramatic. An amazing script.

The problem is, I don’t know how the story would’ve ended.

Would we have fought like we did in Europe and broken up for good? Or would we have ended up living happily ever after?

I carry my board to the storage area, standing it up next to the other surfboards and water toys. Before I leave, I run my fingers across the words and vow to bring chaos into Vincent’s life.

I wander over to the veranda slowly, trying to compose myself. I see Aiden, Peyton, and Damian, all sitting around the big table, laughing and eating. Well, Peyton and Damian are laughing. Aiden seems to be lost in thought.

I feel bad about what I said about him walking away, because I know I would’ve done the exact same thing.

I give him a smile and sit down next to him. He puts his hand on my thigh under the table and gives it a squeeze. I know it’s supposed to be a sweet, reassuring squeeze, but it doesn’t comfort me.

It sends tingles across my body, causing me want to forget about tomorrow, drag him to my room, strip him naked, and dare him to say no to me again.

I eat a few fries and pick at my burger—two things I normally love—while carrying on polite table conversation. After Damian steals the last fry, he says, “Peyton, would you like to go for a walk on the beach?”

“I’d love to,” she says in an unusually high-pitched voice.

She follows Damian toward the screen door but then stops and turns around.

“You guys want to join us?” she asks nicely, but I can tell it’s the last thing she wants.

“Naw, you go,” I tell her as Aiden says, “We should go.”

“Why should we go?” I ask him as Peyton rushes to the beach without waiting for us.

“I can’t just let my sister go out there with him alone. She doesn’t even know him.”

“You don’t have to worry about her being safe, Aiden. He’s a great guy.”

He squints his eyes at me, judging. “What does he do? Is he in school? Have a job?”

“Um, he’s in a band called Twisted Dreams. They did a European tour this summer and then Japan this fall. And he got his GED so he could go on tour.”

“So, does he hook up with girls on tour?”

Uh, yeah, I think, but I can’t say that. “I don’t think so.”

Aiden rubs the side of his face. “You sure she’ll be okay?”

“I promise.”

“Fine. I’m really tired, anyway. I was hoping to head to bed soon.”

“Bed?”

“Yes, bed,” he says. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.”

“Um, are you tired?” I ask as we walk to the turret. Did he decide that he doesn’t want to sleep with me?

When we get to my door, he gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Good night, then.”

I nod at him, so he turns to walk away.

But I can’t let him go.

“Aiden, I don’t . . .”

“I don’t want to be alone either,” he says, quickly finishing my thought and hugging me tightly. “I know we have a lot to talk about, but when you came back from putting away your board, you seemed—I don’t know—distant.”

“We have all break to talk,” I say, avoiding the inevitable. “And I’m just tired.”

“It has been a really long day, Boots.”

“I know,” I reply as he opens the door and sees my room at night. The bedding is turned down and the candles in the hurricane lanterns on each side of the bed are lit. The screen door is pulled shut to keep out the bugs but allow the soothing ocean sounds in, and the sky is dotted with a million stars.