“Maybe you can still fall,” Alexa whispered, her lips so near to his she wondered how the two of them weren’t kissing yet. “This is La-La Land, after all. Anything’s possible, right?”
“Well, I met you tonight,” Jonah replied, reaching up to trace the Cupid’s-bow shape of Alexa’s mouth, which, in all the recent giddiness, she’d forgotten to freshen up with gloss. “And you’re impossibly beautiful. Not like everyone else here. You’re all natural.”
Like wheatgrass juice? Alexa wanted to ask, but then Jonah Eklundstrom was kissing her.
His lips were hot and soft, his mouth tasted sweet and clean, and as Alexa began to kiss him back, she could feel, from the way he tightened his arms around her waist, how much he wanted this, wanted her. He was real, human, no longer a face on a screen. If she liked, she could reach up and feel the warm skin of his throat, his chin, which she did, slowly. She quivered with want. They tilted their heads from one side to the next, the kiss deepening, their tongues meeting. Alexa briefly wondered if Charity Durst and everyone else at the party could see them, but then decided she didn’t care. Jonah’s hands slid up above her waist, brushing the ribbon at the top of her shorts, over her strapless top, and Alexa’s hands swept up under his shirt.
I’m making out with Jonah Eklundstrom, Alexa thought, stunned at the progression this night had taken. Then she decided to forget being stunned—and just breathe in the moment.
As Jonah’s lips brushed against her neck, Alexa glanced up and let the shimmering skyline dazzle her eyes. It’s been so long. She felt like a princess who’d been living under a kiss-less spell—which had now been broken by a dashing knight. When Jonah lifted his head to smile at her, Alexa gazed into his eyes and whispered what she hadn’t spoken earlier. “Wow.”
“Funny, that’s what I was thinking,” Jonah murmured. He brought his mouth down onto hers again, and Alexa closed her eyes. And despite her cynicism, despite her be realistic vow, she allowed herself the one thought she’d been trying to fight off all night:
It felt just like a movie.
CHAPTER FIVE
Blue Crush
“Hey, Alexa?” Holly asked, staring up at the moonlit ceiling as she and Alexa lay side by side on Jonah’s trampoline. “Want to go to the Chateau Marmont?”
It was two in the morning, and the girls had been back in the guesthouse for an hour; to celebrate their amazing night out, they had finished the bottle of Moët Nectar, played an intensive game of Pac-Man, and then jumped up and down on the trampoline, cracking up the whole time. Now, they were lounging peacefully, listening to the quiet roar of the ocean outside their windows.
“I hope you’re kidding, Hol,” Alexa replied, her eyelids heavy and her lips still tingling from Jonah’s insistent kisses. She stretched languorously, her black top inching up her flat belly. “Since when did you stop being a homebody?”
“I’m on vacation.” Holly sat up, smoothing out the hem of her polo dress. Maybe it was jet lag, but she was feeling restless—in a good way. Belle’s earlier description of the Chateau Marmont had sounded like such decadent fun that Holly was itching to visit its bar, to feel like a real Hollywood insider who knew to show up at hot spots after hours. “And,” she admitted, smiling down at Alexa, “I guess I just don’t want this night to be over.”
In some ways, the night had kicked off for both girls when Jonah began kissing Alexa on the rooftop, and Holly had spotted the action from the pool (Belle had had to dissuade her from snapping a picture with her cell phone, because no photographers were allowed at the party). Margaux and Paul, who immediately started toasting the new couple with their Heinekens, had also clearly been pleased. The only person who’d looked decidedly unhappy was Charity Durst, and when Alexa and Jonah had noticed the actress’s evil stare, they’d stopped kissing, hurried over to Holly, and asked if she wanted to escape with them.
The trio made their getaway in Jonah’s black Aston Martin, which made Alexa feel like a Bond girl as she sat at his side, the city flashing by their rolled-down windows. Jonah seemed ready to return to El Sueño, but both Holly and Alexa, who’d both forgotten about their ravenous hunger until that moment, had clamored for food. Inspired by Belle’s recommendation, Holly requested In-N-Out, and Alexa heartily agreed that real burgers sounded real good. It wasn’t until the girls had settled in at the retro-chic, yellow-and-red In-N-Out in Westwood, and ordered their burgers, crispy fries, and tall vanilla milk shakes, that Alexa remembered that Jonah was vegan. He hadn’t complained, though; he’d simply sat back in a chair with his baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, occasionally texting his agent, and looking on with a smile as the two of them devoured their midnight feast.
“I feel awful,” Holly told Jonah at one point, taking a big bite of her mouthwatering lettuce-onion-and-special-sauce burger. She was surprised that she didn’t feel at all like a third wheel around him and Alexa—and that Jonah seemed sort of like a friend now. Well, maybe not a friend. But at any rate, he was much more accessible than she’d expected, and she was no longer the girl who’d stuttered and stammered in his presence hours before.
“Dude.” Jonah had held up his hands in a no-worries gesture. “I made the choice to give up meat. I guess watching my friends eat burgers is my plot in life.”
“You mean your lot in life?” Alexa had snorted, playfully tossing a fry at Jonah. “You’re not by any chance foreign, are you?” She’d heard similar malapropisms from her Parisian cousins.
“One hundred percent red, white, and blue,” Jonah had replied, grinning at Alexa and taking her hand. “Though I did play an Italian count once,” he’d added earnestly.
“I know, in Venetian Valentine,” Alexa had responded, hoping she didn’t sound too much like a crazed fan. But then a teenage girl with red hair, standing at the counter with two friends and undeterred by any silly baseball cap, had screamed: “Oh my Gah you guys look I swear it’s Jonah!” and then the true crazed fans had swarmed the table, pleading and sighing, waving napkins and pens until Jonah scribbled his signature and responded kindly to declarations of love.
After their second escape of the night, Alexa, Holly, and Jonah arrived back at El Sueño, and Holly slipped out of the car, leaving Alexa and Jonah some time alone. They’d kissed again and again, and listened to the whispering of the ocean until Jonah whispered that he’d see her tomorrow.
Now Holly nudged Alexa, who looked as if she were sleeping on the trampoline, her long lashes resting on her cheeks. “Dreaming of your movie star boyfriend?” Holly teased.
Alexa smiled, keeping her eyes closed. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she protested, even as she recalled the feel of his lips against hers. “He’s my…crush.” That was a good word, Alexa realized. She should start using it more often.
“I don’t know, Alexa,” Holly warned, her words coming out in a yawn. Rolling off the trampoline, Holly thought about the hopeful way Jonah had watched Alexa all night. “He might feel differently.” She rubbed her eyes, and started out of the living room, realizing that the Marmont—or any hot nightspot—was probably no longer an option. But she and Alexa would have plenty of time to go to the fairy-tale hotel before they left LA on Saturday.
“Stop fanning the flames of my delusions,” Alexa mumbled, as she sat up and lifted the two empty champagne flutes off the rug. “Hooking up was incredible,” she admitted, as her face flushed at another naughty memory: Jonah’s nibbling on her neck while the windows of the Aston Martin literally steamed up. “But I doubt I’ll hear from him again,” she added, getting to her feet and blowing Holly a good-night kiss. “Not until the wedding, at least.”
Six hours later, when each girl was fast asleep in her circular bed, and the buttery Malibu sunlight was floating in through each set of drapes, the intercom in the hallway buzzed—loudly.
Groans and murmurs of “no freaking way” came from either side of the guesthouse as each girl stirred in her bed. Alexa pulled her fluffy pillow over her head, and Holly rolled
onto her stomach. They were both wishing that they hadn’t actually finished that champagne.
There was another, louder, more insistent buzz.
“It must be Esperanza!” Alexa huffed, finally throwing back her silken top sheet and sliding off the bed. Alexa hurried from the room in her black, lace-trimmed nightie, the house’s central air-conditioning making her shiver. She was still sleepy and slightly hungover, but she also had that jumpy, Christmas-morning feeling in her gut, the feeling of presents to be opened.
“Maybe she knows we kind of trashed the place last night?” Holly called guiltily as she got out of bed, pulling up the strap of her worn-in Oakridge Track & Field tank top. She knew that the contents of the girls’ purses—lip glosses, tissues, Listerine breath strips, and cell phones—were still scattered across the rug, and she was worried they might have broken the Pac-Man game.
Alexa passed by the startling ocean view outside, and then pressed the button on the white box by the door. “Good morning,” she said pointedly, intending to make whoever it was feel bad for waking her.
“Am I speaking to Alexa?” As Alexa had expected, it was Esperanza’s clipped voice that crackled out.
“Uh-huh,” Alexa said, shooting a “what-the-hell?” glance at Holly, who’d stumbled into the entrance hall, wearing her tank and Tyler’s plaid boxers, rubbing her eyes.
“I have a message for you from Mr. Eklundstrom,” Esperanza said. “He is at Paramount all day, but would like to see you later. He’s arranged for the car to pick you up at six and take you to Paramount. But Mr. Eklundstrom specifically asked me to inquire if you will be free tonight.”
Alexa felt a surge of giddiness and wonder. How had she managed to find the one thoughtful, considerate celebrity in all of Hollywood? She let her joy course through her, and then focused back on Esperanza. “No, I’ll be staying in and watching Dancing with the Stars,” Alexa replied, rolling her eyes at Holly, who tried to muffle her laughter with her hands.
“Understood,” Esperanza replied swiftly. “I will inform Mr. Eklundstrom that tonight won’t be possible—”
“No, wait! Wait!” Alexa cried, pressing every button possible as panic rose in her. “I was joking! Joking. Of course I’m free. Please tell Jonah I’ll see him then.”
“Very well,” Esperanza replied as Alexa let out the breath she’d been holding. Mental note: Never use sarcasm on this woman. “Oh, and Mr. Eklundstrom left you the keys to his Lexus Hybrid, which you are welcome to use during your stay,” Esperanza added. “It’s right in the garage.”
Alexa waited a minute before releasing the button on the intercom and turning around to grin at Holly.
“Well,” Holly said, putting her hands on her hips and feeling a spark of genuine excitement for her friend. Finally, Alexa had fallen for a boy who was equal parts hot and sweet. “I guess your movie star crush may be more serious than you think.”
Alexa ignored the pulse-fluttering comment. “You know what this means, right?” she said, starting in the direction of the bathroom to wash up. “The need for serious shopping has just been increased to, like, the tenth power.” Alexa felt the familiar sense of pre-shopping elation begin to build in her. “I didn’t pack with a celebrity date in mind, and that must be remedied,” she explained, ticking the reasons off on her fingers while Holly watched her with one brow raised. “We have to get our wedding dresses squared away pronto—”
“I’m wearing my prom dress,” Holly protested, annoyed that Alexa wanted to bully her into an unnecessary purchase.
“You can still revel in Rodeo Drive,” Alexa reasoned, giving Holly a huge smile and then humming the chorus to the song “Pretty Woman.”
“I know,” Holly laughed, and she felt a tremor of anticipation at the thought. “On one condition,” she added, peering out the window at the flawless day. Now that she was more awake, she was glad to be up so early, and was eager to get outside and breathe in the fresh California air. “That we build in time for some sun-worshipping.”
Alexa never needed convincing when it came to the beach, so, a half hour later, after checking MapQuest and zipping up PCH in Jonah’s neat little Hybrid (“Of course he didn’t give us the Aston Martin,” Alexa complained), the girls were stretched out on white loungers on Zuma Beach. The deep blue Pacific soared and dipped before them, and they sipped the iced blendeds they’d picked up from Coffee Bean as the sun toasted their limbs.
“Remember the last time we were together on a beach?” Alexa asked Holly, once she’d finished rubbing Dior Sun Cream along her arms. She leaned back, adjusted the keyhole of her strapless paisley maillot, and let herself soak in one of her favorite views in the world: a gleaming blue ocean decorated with hot surfer boys.
“South Beach.” Holly sighed with nostalgia, pushing her wraparound shades up on her head. “But don’t you feel like LA’s even better?” she mused, her eyes lingering on one of the surfers, a slender, fair-skinned boy with curly hair the color of oak. He was clearly the daredevil of the bunch; Holly watched him zigzag along a giant wave, riding it out until he tumbled off his dark blue board, laughing.
“That dude’s, like, bananas,” Holly heard a girl comment, and another reply: “Let him do his thing; I’m all about Zen philosophy now.” The girls, wearing loose sarongs, flip-flopped lazily by Holly’s towel and waved to the friendly-looking lifeguard. That was what she liked better about LA, Holly realized: the mellowness of a life lived under constant sunshine. South Beach had been high energy 24/7, but even at the upscale bash last night, Holly had picked up on a more laid-back vibe.
“Well, we’re certainly behaving better here,” Alexa replied, lowering her sunglasses and shooting Holly a knowing smile. “So far.”
Holly smiled back and held Alexa’s gaze, thinking about how much their friendship had changed since that trip. She felt as if they’d come full circle, from one beach to another. “Hey,” Holly said softly. “Thanks for convincing me to come out here, Little Miss Bossy.” What would she do without Alexa there to bring adventure into her life?
“Anytime,” Alexa replied truthfully, reaching out to squeeze Holly’s hand. Just chilling with her friend was helping Alexa keep a healthy perspective on the Jonah sitch; she was excited about tonight, of course, but she wasn’t letting it consume her. Sometimes Alexa wondered what she would do without Holly there to keep her grounded.
Holly returned the hand-squeeze, and before she could get too choked up, rose from the lounger, taking off her shades. Watching the surfers had filled her with the craving to also ride those swells, to balance her feet on a board, to feel the salty spray on her face. Holly had done some surfing last summer, when her sports camp had spent a weekend on Cape Cod, but these huge, perfectly cresting Pacific waves were so much more inviting.
“I’m gonna find out where I can rent a board,” Holly told Alexa, who nodded encouragingly, sipping at her iced drink; she’d never surfed in her life, and had no desire to break that streak. She was more than content to bake herself to a crisp while Holly went out there and foolishly risked her well-being with physical activity.
Holly was about to head toward the lifeguard, who was still flirting with the sarong girls, when her cell phone rang from her Roxy beach tote on the sand. She reached for it and saw it was Tyler. “Hey!” she squealed when she answered.
“So you’re still around?” Tyler asked, his voice warm and affectionate in her ear. “You haven’t, like, been cast as an extra, and gotten all famous on me?”
“Wait, you mean you didn’t see me on the cover of Us Weekly?” Holly teased, letting her toes sink into the hot white sand and listening to the familiar cadence of Tyler’s laugh. “How was dinner at chez Davis last night?” she asked, shielding her eyes to gaze out at the water. Daredevil Boy had paddled out farther, and was motioning for his friends to join him.
“Oh, same old, same old,” Tyler sighed. “My mom reamed me out for getting frozen peas instead of fresh ones, and—” he trailed off. “Sweetie, ar
e you listening?” he asked. “Holly?”
“Sorry!” Holly gasped, glancing away from the ocean. “Alexa and I are on the beach, and I was thinking of going surfing—”
“Oh, surfing.” Holly thought she detected a sour note in her boyfriend’s voice. “Your real love. So I’m getting the shaft, huh?” He let out a low chuckle.
“No!” Holly cried guiltily, walking a few paces away from Alexa and lowering her voice. “I want to hear all about the dinner, Tyler, but this isn’t the best time. Can I call you later?”
Tyler was silent for a moment. “Yeah. Of course,” he said, and Holly bit her lip, wondering if he was miffed. “Just don’t forget about me,” he added, half teasingly.
“Never,” Holly swore. After she said good-bye and clicked off, she was grateful for Tyler’s unintentional reminder. She slipped her Claddagh ring off her finger and into her bag; she wouldn’t want to lose it while surfing. Fixing the straps on her turquoise tankini, she waved to a dozing Alexa and headed down to where the ocean met the sand. The water was a cold shock at first, but as she waded in deeper, her skin adjusted to the feel of the silky waves. The salty breeze teased her loose hair and she shut her eyes, realizing she’d be perfectly happy to forgo shopping and stay here all day.
A chorus of shouts coming from farther out in the water broke into Holly’s peaceful meditation. She looked over, squinting against the sun’s glare. “Holy shit! I think he’s out!” one of the surfer boys was yelling hoarsely as he and the others frantically tried to swim toward a bobbing shape in the distance. But they were obviously slowed down by their cumbersome boards. Holly realized with a stab of terror that the surfer in question—it had to be Daredevil Boy—had gotten into serious trouble. She didn’t let herself think before plunging straight into the ocean, letting the current lift her body as she plowed ahead with smooth, sure strokes. The cool water filled her ears but she pushed out farther, feeling like a mermaid, oblivious to the shouts around her, and to the fact that she’d outpaced the surfer boys by a lot.