“Better than nothing” is an expanse of natural rock with a waterfall wrapping around the end of a pool that takes me twenty strokes to span. The stone surrounding it stretches for ages, with enough space to host a hundred peoplestanding.
This patio is my sanctuary. There’s no pressure here, no haters, no self-doubt.
Unless all of those things are lounging in chaises drinking vodka-lacedpunch.
“You should’ve invited your friend,” Kellan, whose low-slung black swim trunks show off an impressively sculpted torso, says to me. “Pamela?”
“Penelope. She left for Italyyesterday.”
He nods. “My uncle has a place inFlorence.”
When you attend private school, stripping out of uniforms is an occasion we take seriously. The girls are wearing bikinis, the guys in swim trunks hanging low on toned abs the dress shirts only hint at during theweek.
I’m in a cherry-red one-piece bathing suit, and I pulled on jean shorts too. I could probably use the padding from a bikini top—I’m still hoping my boobs make a late surge senior year—but my goal for tonight isn’t attracting attention. It’s makingpeace.
“How’s your car, Annie?” Carly asks sweetly. “I saw you still in the parking lot Thursday when Ileft.”
“Good as new.” I won’t give her the satisfaction of getting to me, especially since I’m trying to smooth thingsover.
I glance around the patio. During the daytime, I love swimming laps in this pool. Now, the lights turn it electric blue. Sleek chaise loungers with side tables are arranged around the perimeter. A table with a bar and snacks sits discreetly off to one side. Built-in speakers at thirty different points in the patio—including some of the chairs, umbrellas, and the gardens—make it feel like the music’s insideus.
My gaze lands on the house. Uncle Ryan’s rules for tonight were no drinking and no coming inside—except for Miss Norelli, whom he greeted at the door. Now they’re in the living room, staring at each other on thecouch.
The form I spot through the sliding glass doors isn’t UncleRyan.
I hold up my cup in a toast—the minions had the carafe spiked with Grey Goose before the caterer left—and Tyler shakes hishead.
The slider opens, and Carly shrieks, “Tyler, let me get you adrink!”
She dashes to the bar and fills him a Solo cup, her curves bouncing under her tiny bathingsuit.
“Come play ‘I’ve Never’ with us,” she insists as he crosses to where we’re standing along with Lana, Tara, andJenna.
Of course Tyler’s jeans and T-shirt come off more compelling than the half-naked guys outside. I see him in school clothes as often as not, and I try not to stare at the way his black T-shirt hugs his chest and reveals strong arms, beautifulhands.
But when my gaze locks on his, something says he caught melooking.
Kellan starts the game, and I force my attention tohim.
“I’ve never been fucked up theass.”
Carly shoves Kellan but drinks. “Only me? Fine. I’ve never had a thousand people screaming my name.” She steps close enough to brush her boobs against Tyler’s arm as if she has fleas and he’s a scratching post. “That’s you, baby. That show you did in Miami lastmonth.”
He cocks his head. When he speaks, his voice is amused, with an edge of something I can’t make out above the music. “I filled in as a favor to Jax when their guitarist had a car accident. The crowd didn’t know myname.”
“They were undressing you with their eyes. Same damnthing.”
Tyler looks as if he’s about to argue but takes a drink. “I’d rather be good than famous,” he says after, staring into his cup. “The best guitarists aren’t guys like Jax. They’re session musicians. They’ve played on every radio edit you’ve ever heard for the last seventy years, and you couldn’t name one of them. Not everyone needs thousands of screaming fans to beworthwhile.”
“Spoken like someone who’s afraid.” I’m supposed to be making friends, but I can’t resist stating the obvious. Tyler looks up. “Fame is only as dangerous as the person who commands it. If you’re talented enough to get the world’s attention for more than a few minutes, you have a responsibility to use it. It’s not something you can tossaside.”
Tyler’s nostrils flare, a muscle in his jawworking.
I’ve hit a sore spot in this boy they love toworship.
“It’s your turn,” Carly remindsTyler.
Kellan drapes an arm around my neck, and I’m surprised because I almost forgot he was here, but Tyler’s attention locks on the arm around my neck as if he wants to melt it away with sheerdisdain.