“Hey,” Thomas said to her. “Wanna come grab drinks with us?”
Oh, right. Alexa had been so caught up in her Delano reverie that she’d momentarily forgotten about the Flamingo crew. The boys in Number 5 had learned about her and Holly’s Rose Bar plans from Kaitlin and Daisy, and they’d eagerly tagged along with the girls. Now, Thomas was leering at Alexa, while Aaron was mooning over Holly. Meanwhile, Daisy, Jonathan, and Kaitlin were holding a whispered discussion about a possibly famous person they’d seen walk by.
“We’ll catch up with you guys in a few,” Alexa told Thomas, stepping out of his reach. She sighed with relief as he led the others over to the Rose Bar.
“Whew,” Alexa said. She faced Holly again, but her friend was busy waving to someone at the end of the lobby.
Holly’s eyes were dancing. “There he is!” she murmured, more to herself than to Alexa.
Alexa made a face. Was Holly actually that excited to see Car Crash Boy? Alexa turned around, following Holly’s expectant gaze. She saw the Prada girls again, walking in a tight pack. Then, one of them stepped aside.
And there he was.
Alexa stared at the tall, olive-skinned boy making his way toward them. Surely this wasn’t the same Diego from last night. This Diego was so polished and put-together that he could have been cast in The OC. His dark hair was combed back neatly, revealing his large, jet-black eyes. He’d clearly shaved; his welldefined cheekbones stood out prominently. He wore a striped, collared Thomas Pink shirt that enhanced his broad shoulders, and simple, classy black pants and shoes. He held a gin and tonic in one hand, and waved the other in Holly’s direction.
Oh…my…God, Alexa thought. Her entire body flushed so deeply that she wondered if she was getting a fever. She was unable to take her eyes off Diego as he neared.
Maybe it had been the baseball cap and glasses, or maybe her own anger but, last night, Alexa had utterly failed to notice what this guy looked like. But now, she was noticing. Big-time.
Diego was absolutely, devastatingly gorgeous.
Alexa took a deep breath to steady her nerves. You hate him, remember? she reminded herself sternly. He’s the jerk who ruined your night. Alexa could hold on to her grudges with impressive will. She wasn’t going to forgive Car Crash Boy so easily, even if the sight of him was making her stomach feel funny. Trying to still her thumping heart, she watched as Diego leaned over to kiss Holly’s cheek.
Does Holly even notice how sexy this guy is? Alexa wondered, observing her friend. Holly hadn’t mentioned anything about finding Diego cute last night or this morning. Holly is generally oblivious to boy matters, Alexa thought with a smile.
Holly, meanwhile, was having heart palpitations of her own. She’d never seen Diego look so grown-up and well-groomed. As he kissed her cheek, she breathed in the scent of his heavenly cologne. He was clearly in his element at this chic hotel bar. Holly couldn’t believe that the Diego standing before her was the same boy she’d gone for a bike ride with that morning, let alone the same boy she’d known three years ago. She felt even more tongue-tied in his presence now than she had upon first seeing him last night.
“I’m glad you could make it tonight,” Diego told Holly, flashing his dimples. “You look really nice.”
“Thanks,” Holly replied, unable to meet his gaze. She wasn’t sure what else to say. “I got a little too much sun this afternoon,” she finally added, pointing to her pink arms.
“Be careful,” Diego said. “You can really get burned in South Beach.”
Again, Holly found herself at a loss for words, and was relieved when Diego turned his attention to Alexa.
“Hello, Alexandria,” he said, his expression serious.
Alexa nodded coolly, barely looking at him. Holly’s stomach clenched. Couldn’t Alexa at least attempt to act friendly toward Diego?
“Look, I—” Diego began, but he stopped when two other well-dressed guys appeared at his side, both carrying drinks. One was short and wiry; he had a dark complexion, a shaved head, and a goatee. The other was almost as tall as Diego; he had a mop of strawcolored hair and hazel eyes behind round glasses.
“Hey, D, introduce us to these two beauties,” the blond boy said, smiling at Alexa and Holly.
Alexa smiled back, glad for the distraction. She was finding it increasingly difficult to keep up the ice-queen act toward Diego.
“These are my boys, Andres and Ian,” Diego said, gesturing to, respectively, the bald guy and the blond guy. “This is Holly, who I was telling you guys about, and her friend, Alexandria,” he said to his friends.
Who I was telling you guys about. Holly smiled, flustered and flattered by those few words.
Just then, a tiny, dark-haired girl wiggled up to Andres, taking his hand and whispering something into his ear. Andres hardly glanced back at his friends as the girl led him away. Holly was relieved the seductive siren hadn’t hung around to talk to Diego.
“You have to excuse Andres.” Diego grinned. “He and our friend Marisol finally got together this past winter after, like, years of sexual tension. Now they’re so into each other they couldn’t care less about being polite.”
Alexa was cursing the blush that had warmed her cheeks when Diego spoke the words “sexual tension.” What’s wrong with me? she thought, tugging on one of her dangly pearl earrings. She couldn’t remember the last time a boy had thrown her so off-kilter. Luckily, Ian sidled up to her then and asked how she knew Holly. Ian was cute in a completely nonthreatening way, which restored Alexa’s sense of balance.
With Ian and Alexa engaged, Holly and Diego regarded each other again. There was a moment of awkward silence.
Holly shifted her weight from one foot to another, Kaitlin’s shoes biting into her ankles. Her mind was completely blank. She and Diego had had plenty to say to each other over ice cream that morning, Holly mused. But now the vibe between them felt stilted. Can we only connect when we’re reminiscing? Holly wondered, with a sinking sense of dread. Maybe all we have in common is our shared past. She shook her head, dismissing the thought, and she gazed desperately around the lobby, searching for a conversation starter.
“Is that J. Lo?” Holly asked at last, pointing toward a curvaceous woman who was walking out to the back garden, surrounded by two bodyguards.
“There’d probably be a bigger crowd around her,” Diego replied, his dimples showing. “But who knows? You can sometimes see celebrities in this place.”
“Right.” Holly nodded, playing with her silver ring. “So…do you come here often?” I did not just ask that, she thought, horrified.
“Mostly on weeknights, when it’s not overrun with tourists,” Diego said. He flashed her an apologetic grin. “Not that tourists are bad.”
“Oh, I wasn’t offended,” Holly said, too quickly, her words overlapping his. Stop, she told herself. You’re making it worse.
Diego rubbed his chin, looking pensive. “It’s funny. The Delano’s great, but I kind of feel over the South Beach scene. I’m definitely ready for college. I need a change, you know?”
Holly didn’t know. College was still a while away; she wasn’t even taking her SATs until senior year. Her parents had driven her to look at Rutgers back in January—naturally, they wanted Holly to stay close to home. But Holly herself had no idea what she wanted yet. She felt, as she had last night, that Diego was somehow far ahead of her—beyond her.
“I guess,” Holly replied after a minute. “Do you know where you want to go?”
Diego glanced down modestly. “Actually, I was accepted early-decision to Princeton. They have a really good premed program.”
Princeton? Premed? Jeez. Holly had never realized how smart Diego was. She was racking her brain for a response to his grand announcement when she felt her cell phone vibrating in her bag.
“Excuse me,” Holly said, taking out her T-Mobile. When she saw the caller ID on the screen, her stomach sank. Why were her parents calling now? She’d spoken to them that morning, i
n between biking with Diego and bikini shopping with Alexa. Holly had avoided mentioning the car accident, but now she wondered if they’d found out from Grandma Ida. That was the only reason she could think of that they’d be bothering her at night.
“Do you need to get that?” Diego asked. Holly glanced up at him.
This is the perfect metaphor for my life, she realized. I’m talking to an older boy about college and Mom and Dad check in.
“No,” Holly said, turning off her cell and dumping it back into her bag. She’d talk to her parents tomorrow. She couldn’t let them interrupt her good time.
But am I really having a good time? she asked herself. When she noticed a stylish woman slink by with a frosty Cosmopolitan, Holly decided she could use a drink, too. That Cuba Libre had relaxed her in Ohio’s. With a drink in hand, maybe she’d feel more on even footing with Diego.
“I’m going to check out the bar,” she told Diego casually. She glanced at Alexa, who was still talking to Ian. “Alexa, do you want to come?” Holly asked her friend.
Before Alexa could respond, Ian raised his empty glass, rattling the ice. “I’ll join you,” he said to Holly. “I need another Jameson on the rocks.”
Thank God, Alexa thought. Ian was boring her into a state of utter numbness—their well of small talk was running dangerously dry.
“I’ll be back, okay?” Holly told Alexa and Diego as she followed Ian to the Rose Bar. She hoped Alexa would behave herself somewhat with Diego. It was clear the two of them didn’t get along, and Holly could do without that tension ruining an already awkward night.
Alexa watched Holly and Ian walk off, and realized she was alone with Diego. He was standing to her left, silently examining his gin and tonic. Alexa dug around in her clutch, pretending not to notice him. Of course, it would help if her fingers would stop trembling.
“What I meant to say before,” Diego spoke up, as if they had been in the middle of a conversation, “was that I’m sorry about last night. I hope you won’t hold it against me until the end of time.” His voice was solemn, but when Alexa looked up at him, she saw a teasing glint in his dark eyes.
Is he making fun of me? Alexa wondered. But instead of feeling defensive, she suddenly wanted to laugh, too. Maybe she did take herself too seriously sometimes.
“Do I act like I might?” Alexa teased in return, raising one eyebrow and meeting his gaze. When their eyes locked, her cheeks burned.
“Well, you still seem kind of…pissed,” Diego said. He was trying not to smile, but his dimples gave him away.
Alexa glanced in the other direction, looking at the chandelier that hung above the Rose Bar. She could be a bit bullheaded now and then. It was something that she had always disliked about herself.
“Petit taureau,” she said, remembering out loud. “Little bull. That’s what my father used to call me when I was younger.” She looked back at Diego, and gave him a half smile. “I guess I am pretty stubborn.”
Diego was studying her with interest. “Stubborn…and French?” he asked.
“Half. I was born in Paris,” Alexa explained, slightly flustered by the intensity of Diego’s gaze. She suddenly felt self-conscious—a rare sensation for her.
Diego tilted his head thoughtfully. “I’ve been to Paris only once, but I really want to go back. They have the most incredible museums there—The Louvre, the Musée d’ Orsay…And the city itself is like a work of art, isn’t it? The way the light falls on the stone cathedrals and the bridges over the Seine…” He gestured with his hands, as if he wanted to conjure up the city. “It’s beautiful.”
Something about the way Diego emphasized the word “beautiful” made Alexa think, for one heart-pounding instant, that he actually meant she was beautiful.
Don’t be conceited, Alexa admonished herself, remembering the incident at the Oceania. Not every boy who paid attention to her was hitting on her. She hadn’t been very nice to Diego; she couldn’t even expect him to like her as a person. Still, Alexa wished that Diego did think she was beautiful. It was sort of hard not to fall for a boy who spoke so poetically about Paris.
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Alexa replied, focusing on him again. “I suppose I’m biased, but I’ve traveled to lots of other cities, and I still love Paris the most.”
“Where else have you traveled recently?” Diego asked. The two of them began slowly walking away from the Rose Bar, toward the double doors that led to the garden. Alexa thought fleetingly of Holly; she’d wonder where they were when she returned from the bar. But when Alexa felt the back of Diego’s hand lightly brush against her arm, her concern evaporated. Holly would find them somehow.
“Cuba,” Alexa answered, after a moment. “I went with my dad when he was studying the architecture in Havana. We had to fly through Canada to get there. The trip was so eye-opening. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced.”
Diego’s face lit up and Alexa felt a rush of pleasure, knowing she’d made him happy somehow. “My parents are from Havana,” he said. “But I’ve never been. Neither has my sister—we were both born here in Miami.”
They had reached the double doors but stood still for a moment, facing each other.
“I feel really close to my Cuban background,” Diego went on. “But since I’ve never seen Havana…it’s like this essential piece of me is still missing.”
Alexa stared into Diego’s dark eyes, feeling a sharp tug on her heart. He was killing her.
“What was Havana like?” he asked. “I’ve only seen my parents’ old photos, but it must look different now…”
“I took a lot of pictures,” Alexa told him. “Maybe I can…send them to you.” She’d almost said show them to you. But that would mean she expected—hoped—to see him again.
“I’d like that,” Diego said. He held one of the doors open for her. The humid night air blew in, lifting the hem of Alexa’s dress. “Are you an aspiring photographer?” he asked.
Alexa smiled, pleased that he’d so insightfully picked up on her passion. “I like to document all my travels, when I can,” Alexa replied as they walked out onto the back patio. She realized then that she hadn’t yet taken any pictures in South Beach. And if there was any place that deserved to be captured on film, it was the back orchard of the Delano.
Lazy hammocks were strung up between giant tree trunks, and indoor lamps swung from branches, casting a warm glow. A row of cozy white cabanas, each containing a white sofa with a white gauze curtain, caught Alexa’s eye. A few of the cabanas were occupied by couples, hidden in their own private cocoon. Palm and ficus trees were everywhere, creating a dense canopy through which moonlight filtered dreamily.
“Wow,” Alexa said, breathless.
“I know,” Diego said. “The pool is even better.” He put a hand on the small of her back as he guided her down the steps. Alexa was tempted to sink back against him, so he would encircle her waist with his arms. She wanted to feel his lips against the nape of her neck. But she resisted. She still wasn’t sure what he thought of her.
They walked to the infinity pool—a flat sheet of clear, blue water. People lay around on white lounges, sipping drinks. Beyond the grounds lay the beach, and Alexa caught a glimpse of the ocean behind the palms. She and Diego stood side by side, their shoulders rubbing lightly as they admired the pool. Then Alexa tipped her head back. It was a sticky, too-warm night, and the sky was cloudy, but she could make out a brilliant sprinkling of stars, glinting in the blackness.
“What sort of photographs do you take, Alexandria?” Diego asked.
Alexa looked away from the stars, back at Diego. She loved how he spoke her full name, pronouncing certain vowels with a lilting Spanish accent. But hardly anybody called her Alexandria, especially not her friends. And she did want Diego to be her friend.
“Will you call me Alexa?” she replied softly. The wind blew tendrils of hair into her face. She thought she heard the distant rumble of thunder.
“Alexa,” Diego echoed. He reached over and brus
hed the hair away from her eyes. For a minute, Alexa forgot what they had been talking about.
“I…I like to capture people in public places,” Alexa said, coming to. “On street corners, or in cafés. Actually, I was hoping to take pictures of Lincoln Road one night this week.”
They drifted toward one of the unoccupied, white-draped cabanas, their conversation unspooling naturally, fluidly. Alexa sat down on the soft white sofa, and her rose-colored skirt spilled out around her, princesslike. She felt incredibly elegant, being here with Diego. He sat next to her, setting his drink down on the glass table in front of them, and she inhaled his spicy Cool Water cologne. She was dying to find out what his lips tasted like, felt like. Was it the humidity that was making her feel so sensual? she wondered, watching as people paraded past.
Alexa noticed a brown-haired girl in a lace dress go by. “I wonder if Holly’s still inside,” Alexa mused aloud. Of course, she had no intention of going back in to find Holly; she felt deliciously languorous sitting right where she was.
“I bet Ian’s hitting on her.” Diego’s eyes flashed mischievously. “I guess it’s pretty obvious he’s on the make, huh?”
“No kidding.” Alexa rolled her eyes, then smiled at Diego. “Poor Holly. She’s not very good at handling advances from boys.” Alexa remembered how antsy Holly had been on the beach after kissing the surfer dude. “I think she just needs some experience,” Alexa added thoughtfully. “With the right guy.”
There was a moment of silence, and Diego moved closer to Alexa on the sofa. When he spoke, his breath tickled her ear.
“How about you?” he asked, his voice suddenly husky. “Have you found the right guy?”
Alexa turned to look at him. His dark eyes were fixed on her intently.
“You mean am I seeing anyone?” she asked. Suddenly, her palms were clammy and her heart was thumping like mad. “No,” she said. “I just came out of a relationship. And he wasn’t the right guy. He didn’t get me the way—” You do, she wanted to say. The way you do.
Very gently, Diego traced his fingers up and down her arm. Yes, Alexa thought. Her entire body tingled, responding to the feel of his warm fingertips on her skin. She couldn’t believe he was touching her so deliberately. Was something going to happen between them?