Текст книги "Kiss Me"

Автор книги: Jillian Dodd

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

There is one message from Garrett.

Garrett:  We’ve tapped into Vincent’s phone records. (Don’t ask.) He only made one call last night to his office number. We assume that’s when he told them he wouldn’t be in. Haven’t seen or heard from him or Vanessa. RiAnne responded to your Facebook message. She asked a bunch of questions about you, but said she is really worried about Vanessa. She said she even tried to reach Vanessa’s dad, but that he is not answering his phone. She says she is “freaking out worried.” We are in the process of running their credit cards. We’re proceeding as if it’s a kidnapping at this point. It’s been nearly 24 hours.

 My throat drops into my stomach.

Me:  If she’s not found by tomorrow morning, I’m getting on a plane and coming home.

Garrett: You will do nothing. Understand me. Nothing. Please do not compound this situation for me.

Me:  I can’t sit here in hiding while my friend is wherever with him. I can’t. 

Garrett:  I am sending someone to sit outside your school. If you attempt to leave, you will be detained. Do you understand me?

“Come on, girls! Move!” Peyton yells and I’m hustled out the door.

It takes everything I have to put on a smile and perform at halftime. I focus on the dance. Try to lose myself in the music. Try to forget everything and focus on the steps. The moves.

The rest of the halftime show is a blur and pretty soon we are lined up with the cheerleaders to cheer for the team’s return to the field.

Dawson runs by me without touching me. He always hits my skirt playfully when he comes on the field. I know he’s mad at me. He’ll be even madder when I tell him I’m not going this weekend.

I’m shaking my pompoms but lost in thought about how I can get out of here without Garrett knowing.

A big body in a uniform stops in front of me and faces me.

It’s Aiden. I can see those gorgeous green eyes peering out from his helmet.

He grabs both my arms gently. “Have you heard anything?”

I’m too shocked that he stopped in the middle of their big entrance to respond. I just shake my head no.

He leans his helmet against my forehead and says, “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

Then he runs toward the rest of the team.

When he gets to the players’ area, Dawson grabs him by the facemask.

I don’t know what they are saying, but I can tell by Dawson’s body language that he’s pissed. Aiden grabs Dawson’s hand and pulls it off his facemask then he shoves Dawson away. Dawson is just getting ready to throw himself back at Aiden when Jake steps in between them and appears to get in Dawson’s face. Then he pushes Dawson away from Aiden and over to the bench.

I run with the cheerleaders and the dance team to our assigned spots for the start of the second half, where I say a prayer that Aiden is right.

After we come off the field from our third quarter dance, Whitney is standing by the fence. She waves Peyton over. Who then waves me over.

I walk over thinking, Now, what?

Peyton runs back to the edge of the field as Whitney says, “Keatyn.”

“What did you need, Whitney?”

She sighs a big fake sigh. “This is kind of awkward, seeing as you were sitting at the table when I invited everyone, but you know that you’re not invited this weekend, right?”

Wow. She’s telling me this now. About an hour before we’re set to leave. She so planned this.

But I don’t care.

“I have no desire to spend a weekend with you, Whitney.”

“You know that he’s just using you. You’re just the flavor of the week. He and Rachel are hooking up this weekend. He’s been texting her all week. I’m just telling you that now, as a friend. I don’t want you to be all upset come Monday and embarrass yourself by trying to sit with us at lunch. That little ticket has been revoked too.” She stops, gives me a big fake smile, and then pats my hand sympathetically. “Okay. Good talk.”

The rest of the game I wrestle with what to do. I want to go home and find Vanessa. I want to tell Dawson what Whitney said. I want him to tell her that he likes me and that he doesn’t care what she thinks. I want him to stand up for me. I want him to commit social suicide for me.

But then I realize that we really haven’t talked about it. He didn’t actually invite me to go with him this weekend. He said he would go, but he and I haven’t talked about it once. I just assumed.

Does that mean it’s true? That he’s going to hook up with Rachel?

Has he really been texting her?

I want to fight Whitney. I really do. I want to tell her off in front of everyone. I want to wipe that smug little smile right off her bitch face.

But I can’t.

I have a much bigger battle to worry about.

After the game, I call Garrett to get an update. He doesn’t have much for me. He asks me to please sit tight tonight. Not do anything stupid and call him in the morning. That if she’s not back, he’ll meet me in New York and fly home with me.

I grab my bag. I was all packed and ready to leave right after the game. Whitney told everyone the limos would pick them up straight from the field house. I’m running late after talking to Garrett. I want to be able to talk to Dawson before he leaves. I’m still not sure what I’m going to say, but I want to at least talk to him.

As I come out of the door, I see one limo pull away and another with the door open. Whitney is standing outside it with Dawson standing next to her. Rachel is right behind him. I slide over into the bushes. I don’t want Whitney to see me standing here.

Dawson looks around for a minute. Whitney say a few words to him. He nods, then puts his hand in front of him allowing the ladies, Whitney and Rachel, to go first. He gets in the car behind them, the driver shuts the door, and they are off.

Now I know what it feels like to be excluded. To be the one that the bouncer puts the velvet rope in front of and says You’re not on the list.

It doesn’t really feel very good.

From behind me a voice whispers, “Why are we hiding in the bushes? And why did they just leave without you?”

I turn around and my boobs brush across Aiden's chest. I take a step back in shock and almost fall backwards over the bush. Strong arms reach out and grab me, keeping me upright. When he pulls me back toward him, I already have more tears in my eyes.

“Whitney told me right before the game was over that even though I was sitting there when she asked, that I wasn't invited. Then she said something nasty about me being Dawson’s flavor of the week and how he’s going to hook up with Rachel. I was going to cancel on him anyway. I have a car coming to pick me up at eight in the morning and then I'm going to New York. I guess Dawson is still mad at me about today. Or maybe Whitney is right and I am just the flavor of the week.”

Aiden still hasn't let go of me. He's listening very carefully to every word I say.

“You know, you're even beautiful when you cry,” he says as he brushes a few tears from my cheek.

I smile though my tears. “If this is the new and improved Aiden, I like him better already. I just don't get why Dawson would leave. He bought me a key-to-his-heart necklace a while ago. He says he really likes me. But then he does this? Just leaves? Is that what they do, Aiden? Is this just a game to them?”

Aiden scrunches his nose up. “It all seems kind of odd, especially after what he said to me at halftime.”

“He got mad you stopped to check on me, didn't he?”

“Yeah, he was pissed.”

“It was nice of you. So I'm pretty much exhausted. I can't wait to go to sleep.”

Aiden helps me out of the bushes and then walks me to my dorm.

He gives me a kiss on the cheek and says, “If you hear anything about your friend, let me know, okay?”

“Okay. Night, Aiden.”

“Night, Boots.” He gives me a devilish grin then pats me on the back.

“Very funny,” I say as I walk into my dorm.

The dorm is quiet. Most everyone has left for the weekend. Katie and Maggie must have already left for Annie’s. Her parents are out of town and they are spending the weekend there. I wasn't invited to go with them, but they all thought I was going with Dawson.

I wash my face, put on some pjs, and fall into bed.

I am just on the edge of sleep when my phone rings.

I instantly shoot up in bed, panic griping me when I see Garrett’s name.

“Did you find her? Please tell me she’s okay.”

“She posted a picture on Facebook. We can run it through our facial recognition software, but I thought you might know faster. I just sent you the photo.”

Up pops a photo of Vanessa wrapped in a pair of deeply tanned arms.

“Ohmigawd!” I squeal with delight. “She’s with Bam Bam! That's why her dad isn't reachable either. She's with her dad on Bam's yacht.”

“Want to tell me who Bam Bam is?”

“Sure. His name is Juan Fabio Martinez. He's an Argentinian polo player. He’s really talented, went pro at fifteen, and he’s only a year older than me and Vanessa. His dad owns, well, like, South America, I think. He's awesome. He's looks like a Polo Ken doll and even comes with his own set of toys.”

“His own set of toys?”

“Yeah. Yachts, boats, suitcases full of cash, a helicopter, a ranch, horses, and Ferraris. Always a Ferrari. And always red. Last count he had eight. All different years and models. Every year around this time, he has a party on the yacht. His dad does some business with Vanessa’s dad, and she and I have gone the last two years. I forgot about that. If you would have let me keep my phone, I could have saved us both a lot of worry. I'm sure he texted me.”

“So she's safe and not with Vincent?”

“I’m positive. She's safe and not with Vincent.”

“Look at the photo carefully. Are you sure it's new, not from last year?”

“I’m positive. Vanessa is in a bikini I have never seen. She has new caramel colored highlights, and Bam has a new tattoo. See the Ferrari prancing pony on his shoulder. That’s new.”

Garrett lets out a big breath. “Good. I'm still worried that we don't know where Vincent is. Will you be at school all weekend?”

“No, I'm going to my loft in the morning.”

He lets out another big breath. “Even better.”

I get off the phone and say a prayer. Thanking God that Vanessa is okay.

I close my eyes and think about going to sleep, but then I remember to call Aiden.

“Is your friend okay?” he answers with.

“Yes. I just got good news.”

“I’m glad. I've been praying for that all day.”

“Me too. Thanks for today, Aiden. For talking—well, for listening to me and for getting us out of trouble for skipping.”

A Facebook notification dings in my ear. I move my phone in front of my face to see it. Whitney has posted a photo of Dawson kissing Rachel’s cheek in the limo.”

“Wow. That hurts,” I say to myself, forgetting Aiden is on the phone.

“What hurts?” he says.

“Whitney just posted a photo of Dawson kissing Rachel.”

“On the cheek. I just saw.”

I start to cry again. I swear my emotions have been everywhere today.

“I have to go, Aiden,” I choke out.

I hang up and turn off my phone.

I told myself that I was not falling in love.

I’ve tried not to care about Dawson.

But, apparently, I didn’t try hard enough.

That’s it.

I am officially done with boys.

Forever.

I’ll become a nun or a lesbian or a get a sex change or something.

Maybe sew my vagina shut.

I laugh at my stupidity and then cry myself to sleep.

Saturday, September 24th

What the hell?

7am

When the alarm wakes me up at seven, I really don’t want to get up. I’m tempted to throw on a pair of sweat pants, but I decide I need to wear a cute outfit to see my new home. The thought of seeing it temporarily puts me in a good mood even though my ass is seriously dragging.

Probably because I didn’t sleep much, and when I did, I dreamt about epic battles between good and evil and, not surprisingly, evil was winning.

I fix my hair, put on an adorable chiffon Free People mini dress. Killer lace-up Givenchy boots. I throw all my stuff in a Burberry Prorsum checked tote. I’ll see my loft, then go to all the shops where Kym wants me to try on dresses. Then I’ll spend the rest of the day trying to fill my closet with new clothes. I’m not going to let a dumb boy keep me from shopping. Or a stupid stalker.

It’s time I start to live.

And I think I will start by seeing just how much damage I can do with a black card. Mom always says looking good is the best revenge. Maybe it’s time I prove her right.

I look at my clock, see it's already almost eight, grab my luggage, and head out of my dorm. I walk down the big hill to the security building, where I have to sign out and wait for my cab.

I turn my phone back on, in case the cab company needs to get a hold of me, and throw it back in my purse.

I hear my phone power up then hear numerous dings and beeps as emails, texts, and notifications start coming in.

I'll look at them in the cab. Or just delete them.

I walk into the security building, say good morning to one of the guards, and size him up. Wonder if he'd ever let Vincent in.

“Morning, Miss Monroe. Your cab is waiting outside the gate.”

“Thank you,” I say as I sign the form he puts in front of me.

“I tried to call you a few minutes ago to verify you had called for one.”

“Sorry, I didn't have my phone on. Is that the procedure for visitors? You call before you let them in?”

“We have very strict procedures about who gets on campus. We have lots of important kids here and kidnapping is always something we worry about and guard against. We've never let anyone in that didn't belong. Never had an incident in my twenty-two years here.”

I pray silently that I won’t be the first.

“There was a girl at my old school that had a stalker. He was really tricky and got through campus security by lying about who he was and why he was there.”

“Well, you can be certain that won't happen here, Miss. We check and double check before we let anyone on campus.”

He waves at a delivery truck that has just come through the gate. I notice that the guard down at the booth just waved him though. The truck never even stopped.

“What about that guy?”

“Oh, that's Gary. He's been delivering to the café for a couple years. He'll stop and have a cup of coffee on his way out.”

“What do you do if Gary is sick?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if someone pretended Gary was sick and drove his truck in?”

“Well, we’d call and verify that he was sick, but if he's in Gary’s truck, he's probably okay.”

I give him a worried look. “Yeah, maybe.”

He looks at me shrewdly. “But you’re right. That might be a weakness to consider. Oh, there's your cab. Have a nice weekend.”

My cab pulls up as I walk out of the building.

We’re loading my bag into the trunk, when a car comes flying toward us. I recognize Dawson’s BMW.

It screeches to a halt behind the cab. All four doors open as Dawson and Jake jump out of the back seat. Dallas gets out of the front passenger side, and Riley slowly stretches his long body out of the driver’s side.

I'm trying to process how Jake and Dawson are with Riley and Dallas when they are on the amazing weekend trip with Whitney and crew.

My heart is in my stomach again.

Dawson marches up to me, grabs my waist, and says, “Keatie, what the hell?”

“What the hell?” I say back. I have no idea what the hell he means. I also pull myself out of his grip. I don’t want him to touch me.

“Why didn’t you tell me Whitney told you not to come? I only went because I thought it would be fun for us to spend the weekend together with our friends.”

“They’re your friends, Dawson. They aren’t really mine.”

“Bullshit. Jake loves you. He told Whitney off and came back with me. Bryce thinks you’re cool—”

I interrupt him. “It doesn’t matter. Whitney hates me. And I don’t want any part of a group that she’s in. She’s not a nice person, Dawson. She’s really not.”

“We all know she can be a bitch, Keatie. We just never expected her to do something like this.”

“I saw the photos of you and Rachel. Whitney told me you have been texting her all week long and that you were going to hook up with her this weekend. Obviously, she was right.”

Dawson shakes his head at me. “Whitney said put your heads together and smile. I’ve known Rachel since middle school. I probably have a million pictures of us doing stuff together. We’re just friends and the only thing I have been texting her about is this weekend. I don’t like her. And Whitney led me to believe that you were in the other limo. That it would be good for you to get to know everyone. When we got to the resort, I couldn’t find you.”

I speak to Jake. “You really told Whitney off? And left her?”

“I did. I told her that royalty has to treat everyone with respect and since she did that to you, I was leaving.”

“OMG! Jake. That’s awesome. But you know it’s just going to make her hate me more.”

“I don’t care,” he says and gives me a hug.

Dawson says, “Do I get a hug too? I tried to call you. I texted you. You didn’t reply and your phone went straight to voicemail. Then Riley called me and told me what Whitney said to you. He drove four hours to come get us last night and drove us four hours back here.” He runs his hand down my arm and looks at me so sweetly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I’m ashamed I didn’t tell him. I’m ashamed I hid in the bushes and watched him leave. Was I testing him? Was I playing games with him? I don’t even know. Little tears spring into my eyes.

“I was embarrassed, Dawson. And you seemed excited to go. I didn’t want to keep you from something that all your friends were part of. She also told me that I’m just your flavor of the week. Part of me was afraid she was right.”

“What a bitch.”

“And you were mad at me. You didn’t flip my skirt at the game.”

“I was upset about you hanging out with Aiden. I was so pissed at him at halftime. I was ready to . . .”

“Yeah, I saw. So anyway, I’m heading out. Going shopping in New York. I’ll see you all when I get back.”

“Where are you staying? We could stay with my parents.”

“We?”

“I like to shop.”

“Really?”

“No, not really. But I want to hang out with you. I only said yes to Whitney because I thought we’d go together.”

 “Don’t worry about me, okay. I have a place to stay.”

“Where?”

“I have a place there, okay?”

“I was excited to go on the trip with you.”

“You never once asked me to go.”

“I just assumed we were.”

Jake says, “I’ll never forget: that’s how our teacher taught us to remember how to spell assume. When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.”

“I’m sorry, Keatie.”

Dawson pushes me gently against the car and says to me privately, “But I have to admit, I like this plan even better. You. Me. Alone all weekend. It’s gonna be so hot, we might burn the place down.”

“You’re cute. Before you didn’t think you were good in bed, now look at you. Burning the place down? And I didn’t invite you.”

“I bet I can get you to invite me,” he says adorably. Then he gives me a sweet kiss. Which turns into a deep, hot kiss.

My body gives into Dawson much faster than my brain does.

I smile at him and sigh. “Fine. But we have to shop.”

“I can live with that.”

While he grabs his bag out of the car, I walk over and give Riley a hug. “Eight hours of driving just for me?”

“For my brother too. No way was I gonna let the bitch win, but what surprises me even more is that you let him go. Here I thought you were tough.”

“I maybe used to be, Riley. But I don’t want to fight her.”

“You care about my brother?”

Do I? I keep telling myself that I don’t. I keep telling myself to listen to my head. To just enjoy the sex. To not get attached. But, the truth is, when he jumped out of his car and pulled me into his arms, my heart felt very happy.

“I do care about your brother. It just made me feel really alone. And I told you. I don’t want to be part of a group like that.”

“Then we’ll make our own group. You, me, and Dallas. You know we’ll always have your back.” He looks at his brother. “No matter who you decide to date, okay?”

I smile at him. “How did you know what Whitney said to me? No one heard.”

“Aiden told me.”

I blink my eyes a few times trying to wrap my head around that. Aiden told Riley so that Dawson would know? He really is trying to be nice to me. “Wow,” is all I can say. But then I give Riley another big hug and say, “Thanks for being my hero again.”

Which way to the bedroom?

11am

I lead Dawson into my new loft. It’s beautiful. Everything I wanted and more. And it’s all mine.

“Wow, this place is amazing,” Dawson says. “This room is so cool. The curved beams on the ceiling. The bar. The pool table. This is a party room. We could have some killer parties here.”

“And it’s all mine,” I whisper out before I think better of it.

Dawson hears me and says, “What do you mean?”

I probably shouldn’t tell him it’s actually mine. That would probably be difficult to explain. Gosh, I hate this. Hate lying to everyone.

“Um, I mean when they moved, um, they sold our house in California. And since I can’t go to France every time we have a break or something, I needed a place. So they bought me this. You know, so I’d have a place to keep my stuff.”

He walks over to the big, comfortable-looking couches. “This is a nice couch,” he says with a sexy grin.

“Don’t look at me like that. We have shopping to do. We have a plan for today.”

But it doesn’t go down as planned.

He grabs me and pins me on the couch, kissing me, and pulling off my dress. And there’s something so hot about the way he wants me. The way he can’t seem to wait. How his kisses are so urgent. How his hands are everywhere. How I can’t get him close enough to me. How I want him closer. How I’m guiding him towards me. How he’s like the train we were just on, running quickly down the track, with one single destination.

He told me on the train how he was going to go slow today. Kiss every part of my body. Touch every square inch of me. But that all seems forgotten now.

This is fast and furious. A lot like the first time we did it. Hard. Fast. Primal.

Now he’s kissing me sweetly, grazing his lips across my cheeks, and up by my hairline.

“So much for our plan,” I say.

“I’m sorry, I just, I don’t know what you do to me. No one has ever made me like this. I just want you so badly I can hardly stand it. It’s like I’m an animal.” He laughs, then gets serious. “We’re, like, amazing together.”

“Can we tour the rest of the loft now?”

“As long as you stay dressed like that.”

“Uh, I’m not dressed.”

“Exactly.”

“Dawson, we have to go shopping today. I’m going to find a dress for Homecoming.”

“You got a date I don’t know about?”

“No, I don’t have a date yet. But I’m going, and I’m gonna need a dress.”

“And I get to watch you try them on?”

“You get to see me in them but, no, you don’t get to be in the dressing room with me. But I would like your opinion. I want to look good.”

“Dang. And I was just thinking how good you look naked.”

“I’m not naked. I still have on my boots.”

I grab a cashmere throw off the chair and try to wrap it around me as he picks me up and says, “Which way to the bedroom?”

I giggle and point in the direction that I think it’s in. I thought I had memorized the floor plan.

He manages to find the master bedroom and throws me on the bed.

Then he proceeds to do all the things he threatened to do to me.

Slowly kissing me, rubbing me, torturing me, really, until I can’t wait anymore.

Then it is slow. Amazing. Almost tender.

The real you.

12:30pm

I’m almost asleep when I remember and jump up out of bed.

“Ohmigawd!”

“What?”

“My closet.”

“What about your closet?”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, Dawson, but I want to close my eyes. Will you open the door and turn on the lights for me?”

He looks at me like I am crazy, but pulls on his boxers and walks to my closet door. I close my eyes and hear a door open. A light switched on.

He grabs my hand and leads me. “Open your eyes.”

I look around. The black and white brocade wallpaper. The black lacquered chandelier. The hot pink Louis VIII chair. The soft flokati rug.

“You decorated your closet?” Dawson asks. He doesn’t get it.

“It’s my closet.” I tell him, but I tell myself, You did this on your own, Keatyn. You’re doing it. You’re starting over. Living a new life. And you’re going to be okay. 

“What’s this?” Dawson says, pointing at a shoebox with a bow wrapped around it.

I open the box and nestled inside pale champagne tissue paper are my shoes. The shoes from my birthday party. The shoes that are still the most beautiful shoes I have ever seen. I remember the joy I felt when I found them. I remember telling Kym we had to find a dress to do them justice.

Then I remember one of the shoes falling off when Vincent was dragging me to the door. I look at the right shoe. See the little scuff across the toe from when I tried to dig my toes into the carpet. I pick up the left shoe. The heel dangles, broken.

These shoes aren’t just beautiful, graceful, and unique. They are also survivors.

Just like me.

I open the card.

I thought you needed to be reunited with footwear that is the real you.  -G

I hold the card to my chest and smile.

Just like my shoes, I’m still here.

Cush and I are over. Finished.

Brooklyn and I over. Finished.

I’m starting a new life.

I look at my closet and smile at all the empty racks.

“Dawson, you better get dressed. We have some serious shopping to do.”

I drag Dawson to all my favorite stores and most of the ones on Kym’s list. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t get to them all. I found a gorgeous dress.

All the dresses she picked out were really pretty, but only one had Dawson all hot and bothered. It’s a Valentino dress made of black lace. It has a banded waist with a macramé style, almost sunflower patterned skirt. It’s fitted and short. The top of the dress is asymmetrical, off one shoulder, tied at the top with a small bow. It has a nude colored backing behind the lace, so there is the slight illusion that you are naked and the lace is just there to cover certain body parts.

It’s gorgeous, classy, but still very sexy.

I also really love the Louboutin double platform sandals she picked out to go with it. The heels are so tall, and combined with the short dress, they make my legs look miles long.

“Hey, do you have some more shopping you need to do?” Dawson asks me as I’m paying for the dress.

“I wouldn’t mind shopping a little more before we leave.”

“Okay, good. I thought maybe I’d run and get something. I’ll meet you back here in, say, an hour?”

“Uh, sure. Where are you going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Um, okay. So, I guess I’ll  head to the shoe department.”

“I should have known that.”

He gives me a kiss and rushes off.

As I walk to the shoe department, I wonder why Dawson hasn’t asked me to go to Homecoming with him yet. One of the seniors on the dance team got asked this week. Her boyfriend put a bunch of helium balloons in her dance locker along with a rose and a note. When she opened her locker all the balloons floated out. It was really cute and she was screeching with excitement, which I thought was sort of odd since they’ve been dating for a year. Another girl got a bunch of cupcakes at lunch. And one of the cheerleaders got asked by a football player over the loudspeaker at the game last night.

He left Whitney’s stupid weekend to be with me. He wants to give me the key to his heart. He must like me. But nagging in the back of my mind is his voice from that night at the cave, telling Dallas and me his goal was to take Whitney to Homecoming. And now that she and Jake are broken up, there’s nothing to stop him.

I forget to worry when I see all the shoes.

And boots.

All lined up by designer.

It’s like paradise. Or mecca. Or whatever.

All I have to say is it’s amazing how many pairs of shoes and boots you can try on and buy in a measly sixty minutes.

I’m laden down with packages when gorgeous Dawson comes strolling back in, bag swinging in his hand.

Literally every shoe shopper’s head turns when he walks by. He is that good looking. Even the old ladies can’t help but stare.

It makes me feel very lucky.

He walks up to me and kisses my cheek. “You leave any shoes for anyone else?” he says, eyeing all my shopping bags.

“There’s not that many pairs, I swear. Boots just take up a lot of room. What did you buy?” I ask curiously.

“You’ll see later.”

As we’re getting in a cab, he says, “Hey, do you think it would be okay if we meet my parents for brunch tomorrow? Riley told them I was in town and now they want to meet you.”

“That’d be cool.”

“So, back to the loft?” he says with a wink.

Back at the loft, I finally get to look around and find that my pantry and fridge have been stocked with some basics, including wine, champagne, water, sodas, caviar, hard cheeses, smoked salmon, and some frozen dinners.

While I put my purchases in my closet and change into the new robe I bought, Dawson pops a bottle of champagne. We decided in the taxi that we’d just order in some food. At school we are constantly around people. We’re looking forward to spending some time completely alone.

He sets the glasses and bottle down, grabs my robe belt, and unties it. “Much better,” he says, looking down at me, basically naked again. “I think we should just be naked until we have to go back to school.”

“It’s going to be hard to have brunch with your parents if I’m naked.”

He smiles and pours us each a drink, then puts his glass up in the air. “Here’s to my beautiful naked girl.”

“I’m not drinking to my nakedness.”

He runs his hand down my stomach. “Oh, but you should.”

“Dawson! Stop that! We need to order food. I’m starving.”

“Me too, but it’s not my fault you’re so damn sexy, and you make me want you. All the time.”

I turn my back on him, let the robe slide off my shoulders, and walk naked into the bedroom.

He follows me like a dog after a bone. “Oh, you’re in trouble now.”

After dinner, Dawson says, “I bought dessert. That’s what’s in the bag.”

“Yum. What did you get?”

“Okay, so close your eyes.”

I close them.

I can hear him banging around in the kitchen and pretty soon he’s back in front of me.

“Okay, open.”

In front of me is a sinful looking triple layer chocolate cake and two forks.

It reminds me of the cake Brooklyn bought me for my birthday. The cake I made a wish on.

And ended up here.

Is fate trying to tell me something?

He puts a piece on a fork, holds it up to my mouth, and I decide to forget about fate.