Holly turned to see Surfer Guy from the beach. His hair was in a ponytail and he wore a white linen shirt and wide-legged hemp-colored pants. “It’s Shane,” he reminded her with a smile.
Holly glanced over her shoulder. She couldn’t make out Kaitlin’s red curls in the sea of people, and she’d also lost sight of the other Flamingo kids. Holly figured she could meet up with them later. Besides, she decided, Shane was much more interesting.
“Tell me your name again?” Shane asked as she turned back to him.
Holly felt a flash of annoyance that he didn’t remember; he’d seemed so focused on her yesterday. She thought back to their accidental kiss, and her pulse quickened. She let her eyes linger over Shane’s lips for a minute, wondering what it would be like to kiss him for real. Suddenly, Holly didn’t feel so socially inept anymore.
“You’ve forgotten me already?” she asked with a bubbly laugh, surprised at how much she sounded like Alexa. “I’m so insulted!”
“Oh, come on. At least give me a clue,” Shane said, his face breaking into a grin.
“Well, it starts with an ‘H’…” Holly murmured, lowering her lashes. Am I flirting? she wondered. Having never officially flirted before in her life, she wasn’t quite sure. But, in any case, whatever she was doing felt terrific.
“Heidi?” Shane guessed. Holly shook her head. He grinned and kept trying. “Hannah? Heather? Uh, Hepsaba?”
Holly giggled. “Nope, nope, and nope,” she purred.
“Oh, dude…” Shane said in mock frustration. “Okay. How about I buy you a drink? Then will you tell me?”
Holly’s knee-jerk reaction was to refuse his offer, but suddenly her whole don’t-let-boys-buy-you-drinks plan seemed stupid to her. She was trying to save money, wasn’t she?
“I’ll see how I feel,” Holly teased, but she gave Shane a smile that clearly meant yes.
He led her to the bar, where they perched on stools. Shane ordered a frozen strawberry margarita for Holly and a Jack and Coke for himself. Holly took a careful sip of the margarita. Cold, frothy, and sweet, the delicious drink tasted more like candy than alcohol. Holly took a bigger swallow, enjoying the slight burning sensation in her throat.
“Holly,” she told Shane, still sipping her margarita. “My name is Holly.” She had always felt that her name was too cutesy, better suited to a pigtailed little girl. But revealing her name to Shane breathed new life into it. “Holly” suddenly sounded like the sultriest name in the world.
“Knew it,” Shane said, hitting a hand to his forehead.
“Sure you did,” Holly taunted, downing more of her margarita.
They continued their banter for a while, and soon Holly’s glass was empty. When Shane offered to buy her another, Holly hesitated only a moment before accepting. Her cheeks were warm but she wasn’t dizzy. I’m not drunk at all! she thought. I must have really high tolerance.
Her second margarita arrived, and Holly took a giant gulp. Okay, maybe her head was the slightest bit spinny. She and Kaitlin had gone out to dinner that night at the Sushi Rock Café, but Holly, conscious of her cash supply, had only ordered miso soup. Now, she was wondering if she should have had more food in her stomach before she started guzzling margaritas. Wasn’t that one of the rules of smart drinking? Holly wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter now. She held her glass up, admiring the drink’s vibrant pink color.
“It matches my shirt!” she told Shane, exploding into giggles.
“I like your shirt,” Shane said softly, running a finger down her midsection. Holly’s heart leaped.
A gaggle of rowdy college girls in matching halter tops swarmed the bar, loudly demanding shots. Holly glanced over at the girls, remembering her humiliation at not knowing what body shots—or even tequila shots—were. It was time to redeem herself, she decided, swallowing most of her margarita.
She turned to the girl next to her, whose long, wavy blonde hair made Holly think momentarily of Alexa.
“Are those tequila shots?” Holly asked the girl as the sailor-bartender set several shot glasses filled with amber-colored liquid on the bar.
“Southern Comfort and lime juice,” the girl replied, as her face turned an interesting shade of green. “Actually, do you want mine?” she asked Holly with a hiccup. “I feel kind of sick.” Without warning, she turned and fled the bar, most likely in search of the nearest bathroom. None of her friends followed her.
Holly felt so loose and carefree from the two margaritas that she didn’t think twice about picking up the girl’s abandoned shot glass. “Cheers!” the other halter-top girls toasted her. Holly clinked her shot glass against theirs and tipped her head back, swallowing the tangy, sour drink in one go. Whoa. Her mouth felt like it was on fire. The bar in front of Holly seemed to tilt, then right itself.
“I can’t feel my feet!” she confessed to Shane in a slurred whisper. He chuckled and slowly ran his hand down her back.
The DJ took a break from techno and started spinning vintage Madonna: “Into the Groove”—one of Holly’s favorites. The halter-top girls squealed in appreciation, and the ringleader, a busty brunette with a flower tattoo on her arm, cleared the shot glasses away, and promptly hoisted herself up onto the bar. She began dancing in her spiky heels, flinging her curly hair around. Quickly, the other girls followed suit. They all started shaking it on top of the bar, as the other clubbers cheered them on. Holly clapped her hands, watching the girls in awe.
“Get up here, babe!” the brunette shouted to Holly.
Holly slid off the stool, flushed with a sense of belonging. As soon as she was on her feet, she felt how insanely drunk she was. But the fuzzy, swaying sensation made her feel as if she could do anything. She handed Shane her little bag and, with his help, climbed up and joined her newfound friends atop the bar.
“Live out your fantasy, here with me!” Holly shouted along with the song, dancing wildly. People whose faces she couldn’t make out were pointing at her and whistling. This is like a fantasy, Holly thought foggily. From where she stood, the energetic crowd, the hot tub, and the boardwalk swam together in a happy blur. When the song ended, Holly wobbled in her platforms, suddenly worried she might fall.
Shane, clearly seeing she was in trouble, took Holly’s hands, carefully guided her off the bar, and handed her bag to her. Holly, needing all the support she could get, grabbed on to Shane’s arm. She was only mildly surprised when he smiled, lowered his face, and kissed her. So this is what it’s like to kiss a random boy in a bar, Holly thought as Shane’s tongue touched hers. But it didn’t feel cheap or skanky. It felt…yummy. Holly stood on her tiptoes, her lips eagerly responding to Shane’s.
She heard Shane’s breath quicken as his hands roamed around her waist, up under her tube top, along her back, and over to her breasts. Holly gasped, instinctively pushing his hands away and jerking back. Shane had just unwittingly attempted to go where no boy had gone before.
“What’s wrong?” Shane asked, confused. “Aren’t you up for some fun?”
Abruptly—even through her drunken haze—Holly understood Shane’s impression of her. He’d only seen Holly at the volleyball game and bikini contest and, most recently, atop the bar. He simply assumed she was an über-confident girl who had no problem letting boys grope her. He’d never known the other Holly.
“I—I don’t want us to do more…” Holly mumbled, drawing back from Shane. She could feel some of her old shyness slipping over her.
Suddenly, somebody on Yacht’s upper level turned on a giant foam machine, spraying the crowd below with white, frothy bubbles. Holly shrieked as the foam hit her in the face, and then she slipped and almost fell. When she straightened up, she couldn’t see Shane anywhere in the soapy madness. Holly felt a stab of panic, and elbowed her way out of the bar area, past people having foam fights and making out. She was maneuvering past the hot tub when a shirtless, obviously plastered guy darted across Holly’s path. Before he reached the Jacuzzi, he took off his pants and boxers. T
hen, totally naked, he plunged into the water with a shout of triumph.
Ew! Holly thought as the others in the hot tub shrieked and whooped. I have to get out of here. Desperately, she searched the foam-covered crowd for Kaitlin and Daisy, or any of her Flamingo friends. She felt enormously relieved when she spotted Aaron hovering by one of the tiki lamps, drinking a Sam Adams. He caught Holly’s eye and waved her over.
Grateful to see a familiar face, Holly impulsively flung her foamy arms around Aaron as soon as she reached him.
“Where is everyone else?” she cried drunkenly.
“They headed over to Nerve,” Aaron replied, returning her embrace. “I told them to wait for you, but…” He shrugged and gave her a sympathetic smile.
Holly pouted. Kaitlin had abandoned her? “They could’ve told me they were leaving,” she huffed. “Those…” She searched for the perfect word to sum up her frustration. Holly rarely cursed, but now she felt it was necessary for the occasion.
“Assholes,” she and Aaron spoke at the exact same instant. Then they glanced at each other in surprise and cracked up.
“Jinx,” Aaron told her, linking his pinkie with hers.
Holly grinned, completely forgetting her hostility toward Aaron from the night before. They suddenly seemed exactly on the same wavelength.
“Should we go catch up with them?” Aaron asked, still hanging onto her pinkie.
Holly closed her eyes against the boardwalk spinning around her. “I want to, but I’m…”
“You’re…?” Aaron prompted gently.
“Trashed,” Holly said, opening her eyes. Once again, she and Aaron burst out laughing.
“If I laugh, I get more dizzier,” Holly explained, clinging to Aaron’s arm.
“‘More dizzier?’” Aaron teased, setting down his beer bottle. “Come on, let me walk you back to the Flamingo. You’re in no shape for another club.”
Aaron took hold of Holly’s hand. As he led her away from the crush, and out of Yacht, Holly felt a rush of gratitude toward him. He was so sweet to have waited for her, and such a gentleman to be walking her home, Holly thought as she swayed along at his side. When they entered the Flamingo lobby, still holding hands, Aaron said to Holly, “I think Kaitlin and those guys didn’t want to bother you because they saw you kissing someone.”
“They did?” Holly squeaked, her cheeks burning with shame.
“Yeah,” Aaron went on, his eyes dancing. “And we all saw you up on the bar.”
“No!” Holly cried, pulling her hand out of his grasp. “Oh, my God! I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why?” Aaron asked. He took a step toward her and put his hands on her hips. “I enjoyed watching you. Come on, dance for me again. Right here.”
“No!” Holly shrieked. “You can’t make me!” Giggling, she turned and tore toward the back exit that led to the pool. Aaron followed her, their laughter echoing through the empty lobby.
The pool’s surface shone diamondlike in the bright moonlight. Holly skidded to a stop, then whirled around to see Aaron approaching her.
“Do it, Holly,” he teased. “Come on. Get into the groove,” he sang, moving his shoulders to the beat.
“You’re making fun of me!” Holly exclaimed, blushing madly. She walked backward, holding her hands up and dropping her bag. “Don’t…come…near…”
Suddenly, Holly lost her already shaky footing and fell over into the pool. She screamed as she hit the water, and went under. She resurfaced, gasping, her drenched clothes plastered to her body.
“Look what you did, Aaron!” she spluttered, but she was laughing. The pool water was almost cold enough to sober her up. Almost.
“Oh, calm down,” Aaron snorted. “It’s no big deal. Look, I’ll do it, too.” He took off his Polo shirt and his pants, carefully removing his wallet from his back pocket and setting it on the nearest chair. Then he kicked off his sandals and dove into the pool wearing only his boxers, sending up a great splash. Holly screamed again, paddling away from him.
“Shh,” Aaron said, swimming up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders.
“Get off me,” Holly said, but she didn’t really mean it. Aaron had big hands and long, tapered fingers that felt so nice against her skin.
“I wasn’t making fun of you,” Aaron murmured into her ear. His breath was hot on her neck. “I think you are so sexy, Holly.”
“You do?” Holly asked giddily, floating around to face Aaron. Sure, she’d suspected that those boys at Yacht tonight—and Shane—thought she looked good. But to actually hear a boy say it was something else entirely.
She and Aaron bobbed up and down, their legs brushing underwater. Anticipation made Holly’s skin quiver. She wanted him to touch her again.
“Uh-huh,” Aaron replied, his voice velvety. “I thought that from the first minute I saw you.”
Holly smiled, remembering how she’d opened the door in her bathing suit to see Aaron and Thomas.
“You have the prettiest smile,” Aaron whispered, tracing his thumb over Holly’s lower lip. Holly held her breath as he leaned over and lightly touched his mouth to hers.
“I—I thought, maybe, you liked me,” Holly said, the alcohol loosening her tongue. “But I wasn’t sure.”
“Oh, come on,” Aaron murmured, his fingers grazing her collarbone. “It wasn’t exactly an accident that I walked in on you in the shower over there.” He motioned with his head.
“You planned that?” Holly gasped, getting water in her mouth. “But you—you acted all surprised and shy…” She trailed off, remembering that night.
Aaron laughed softly. “I could tell you were a good girl, so I figured I’d play nice.”
A good girl. Holly felt a rush of anger, mixed with desire. She was not a good girl anymore. And, to prove her point, she put her arms around Aaron’s neck and kissed him hard on the mouth.
“Wow,” Aaron whispered, drawing his head back to look at Holly. “All right.”
He kissed her deeply, sliding his muscular arms tight around her waist. Holly pressed close to him, and they both submerged. Kissing underwater felt so sensual, the cool water enveloping their bodies. When they came up for air, Holly shook out her sopping hair and laughed, gesturing down to her soaked tube top.
“I’m all wet,” she complained.
“Let me help you,” Aaron said, reaching down and sliding Holly’s tube top up over her head. He tossed it out of the pool, and it landed on a beach chair.
Holly bit her lip, as Aaron smoothly reached behind her and unhooked her strapless bra. She remembered how Shane had tried to go up under her shirt at Yacht, and she’d stopped him in a panic. Things felt different now; she was still a little hesitant, but Aaron seemed safer. Familiar. He was literally the boy next door—at the Flamingo, anyway. As Aaron drew her close again, she thrilled at the new sensation of skin on skin. His hard chest felt so warm and smooth against her own silky softness that it sent tingles through Holly’s whole body. She smiled as she wrapped her legs around Aaron’s underwater.
“I’ve got condoms in my wallet,” Aaron told her. His teeth were very white in the darkness. “Just in case.”
Is that where this is leading? Holly wondered. She hoped Aaron couldn’t feel the mad pounding of her heart. “That’s good,” she said lazily, as if she’d done this a thousand times before. To mask her nerves, she leaned in and started kissing Aaron’s neck.
“Hey, Holly?” Aaron murmured.
“Mmm?”
“You know this is just for fun, right?” he asked. “Like, I’m not planning on breakfast or some shit tomorrow morning.”
Holly glanced up. Aaron’s face floated above the water, serious.
“Oh, sure,” Holly replied tremulously. She hadn’t really thought about tomorrow. She guessed she didn’t want any strings attached, either. That would get too complicated.
“I mean, you can’t really stay over tonight,” Aaron went on. “My brother and Jon and I have this thing about girls
sleeping over. It’s too weird if one of us guys is in the room. You know what I’m saying?”
Holly nodded, remembering what Daisy had told her that morning. So would she and Aaron, like, go all the way…and then trek back to their separate beds? Holly shivered in the cold water.
Back in Oakridge, whenever she thought about sex, she always imagined her first time would be with her first real boyfriend. Someone Holly would feel absolutely comfortable with. Someone who knew how to kiss her and touch her just the way she liked, and who’d want her to sleep in his arms all night. Someone she’d love, and who’d love her, too. Had she been naïve to hope for all that—just as she’d foolishly hoped for a chance with Diego?
“I just thought we’d lay down some ground rules first,” Aaron explained, squeezing Holly’s waist underwater and kissing the side of her neck. “I generally like to do that.”
Holly stomach turned. How many girls has he been with? she wondered.
Suddenly, being here with Aaron felt all wrong. And it wasn’t because Holly was thinking she should have been with Diego, or with any other boy. She was thinking about herself. Just because she was being naughtier and wilder tonight did not mean she had to give it up to some loser. No, Holly realized. She wasn’t being naïve this time. She simply knew, with absolute certainty, that she deserved better.
“Here’s a ground rule for you, Aaron,” Holly said, pushing him off her. “Next time you want to get lucky, try not to be such a slimy bastard.”
Aaron’s jaw dropped. “You’re turning me down?” he asked incredulously.
Holly rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself, Aaron,” she replied. Grabbing her bra, she climbed out of the pool and pulled on her wet tube top. Then she snatched up her bag, and, without looking back at him, hurried out of the pool area as quickly as her waterlogged platforms could carry her.
It was almost three in the morning as she shot through the Flamingo lobby and up the stairs. Out of habit, Holly headed toward Room Number 7, and paused in front of the door. Though Holly felt much more sober, she still needed a dose of clarity. I need to talk to Alexa, Holly realized. But Holly was still sore about last night. She wasn’t about to apologize to Alexa yet.