Page 16 of South Beach


  Still, Holly didn’t want to spend another night in Kaitlin and Daisy’s room. She wanted to change into her own pajamas, and climb into the narrow bed that had become familiar to her since Saturday. She just craved some sense of normalcy. So Holly hesitated, then braced herself, and knocked on the door.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Temptation Times Two

  There’s nothing like the sight of drag queens to cheer you up, Alexa reflected as she peered through the lens of her digital camera. It was Tuesday night, around ten, and Alexa was taking pictures of people on Lincoln Road. After nibbling on a slice at Pizza Rustica, she emerged in time to see three drag queens in high heels and tight, sequined dresses sashaying down the strip. Alexa grinned as she snapped the picture. Then she settled down on a nearby bench to review the images in her camera, but soon she was stifling a yawn. Alexa couldn’t concentrate on photography tonight. Her eyes stung from lack of sleep, and she had plenty of other things on her mind.

  Alexa had left her door unlocked last night on the off chance that Holly decided to come back to the room. But she had been so paranoid about the possibility of intruders sneaking in—and so haunted by her exchange with Holly on the beach—that she didn’t fall asleep until after dawn. She was rudely awakened a few hours later by Kaitlin, who barged in to retrieve Holly’s necessities for the day. Alexa had rolled her eyes, supremely annoyed. The fact that Holly clearly didn’t have the guts to confront Alexa only deepened Alexa’s aggravation toward her former friend.

  But as Alexa showered and changed, she found that she was kind of missing the company of said former friend. Alexa drove to the Miami Art Museum, hoping a dash of culture and beauty would revive her. After wandering the galleries for the afternoon, however, her argument with Holly still gnawed at her like a persistent toothache. Even a phone call to Portia from the car didn’t help; Portia couldn’t talk because she and the other girls were on a private cruise with boys they’d met the night before. When Alexa returned to the Flamingo, she ran into Thomas and brusquely turned down his invitation to join him later that night at some outdoor club he’d forgotten the name of.

  So that was how Alexa found herself with her camera on bustling Lincoln Road, wearing a simple, peach-colored cotton sundress, her hair in a low braid, and no makeup. It was the first time in years that Alexa St. Laurent was out after sundown…and not going out.

  But she craved time alone tonight—time away from the whirling circus of bars and clubs and alcohol. And, mostly, she needed time away from boys. Because, out of all the unpleasant memories Alexa couldn’t shake from last night’s fight, the most persistent one was Holly calling her a slut.

  In the heat of the moment, Alexa had been more than ready to defend herself. But after the argument, doubts began to brew in Alexa’s mind. Was she sort of a slut? Did she move from boy to boy mindlessly, using their affections to fill some sort of void in herself? Alexa had to admit that this concern had been plaguing her since that night at Ohio’s. And that was why she’d grown so enraged at Holly’s accusation last night. The truth always bit sharpest, didn’t it?

  But with Diego, it felt different, Alexa mused, gazing off at the bright lights of the Colony Theater. Though she’d been totally sober, Diego had made her feel drunk with possibility—with the sense that she’d finally found a boy who understood her. And Alexa hadn’t aggressively flirted with him, as she’d done with hot boys in the past. Their coming together had felt fluid, elegant, inevitable.

  Forget him, Alexa chided herself, turning her attention back to the camera. Diego was too confusing. Even though Holly had said that she and Diego weren’t together, Alexa still wasn’t sure what their history had been. It was impossible for Alexa not to feel a little guilty for kissing Diego—even if he was technically available.

  “Excuse me, but I’m looking for a professional photographer.” A deep male voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Alexa glanced over, irritated that some creep was ruining her moment of self-reflection.

  But the boy beside her on the bench was none other than the very focus of her thoughts. Alexa gave a start. It was as if she’d been thinking about Diego so much he’d sprung, fully formed, from her head.

  “I’m hoping you can help me,” Diego continued, a smile tugging at his full lips. “I’m looking for someone smart and beautiful who likes to take candid shots of people in public places.” He reached over and gently tucked a strand of hair behind Alexa’s ear. “Do you know anyone who fits that description?”

  Alexa inched away from him, trying not to notice how her whole body responded to even his slightest touch. She was also doing her best to ignore how good he looked in a long-sleeved black shirt and Sean John jeans. She could smell his Cool Water, and wished she could lean over and rest her head in the crook of his neck.

  “What are you doing here?” she finally asked, taking her gaze off him. She pretended to watch a musician performing in the street.

  “You told me you wanted to take pictures of Lincoln Road at night,” Diego said. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him lift his hand as if he wanted to touch her again, but then he dropped it back into his lap. “I figured I would see you if I walked up and down the strip enough times.” He paused and she could tell he was smiling. “I hope that doesn’t make me a total stalker.”

  Alexa shook her head, suppressing her own smile. A group of drunken spring breakers wove past, arguing noisily about which bar to hit next.

  “It’s just that I really wanted to talk to you about what happened at the Delano,” Diego explained, his voice impassioned. “I called Holly today, too, hoping I’d get in touch with you through her. But she never called me back.”

  “I haven’t even seen Holly since last night,” Alexa replied. “But I’m guessing she’s still pretty upset.” Then Alexa turned her head and looked straight at Diego, her heart aching at the sight of him. “Did anything ever happen between you guys?” she asked plainly.

  This time Diego was the one to look away, glancing down at his hands. “Back when we were kids,” he said. “When I still lived in Miami Beach. I was like, fourteen, and we spent a week hanging out together. We had a lot of fun and on her last night…I kissed her.” Diego glanced briefly at Alexa, smiling his frustratingly adorable smile. “But that was three years ago. And when I met her again this week—” Diego shook his head. “It just felt like we were old buddies, and that was all. I mean, Holly’s a sweetheart, and she’s a really good-looking girl but…” Diego looked back up, his dark eyes sweeping over Alexa’s face. “She’s not the girl for me.”

  Alexa bit her lip, unable to tear her gaze away from his. She held her breath as he leaned close and cupped her face in his hands.

  “You’re the girl for me,” Diego said softly.

  Alexa was dying to melt into his arms and kiss him with all the tenderness she was feeling. But everything was still so jumbled in her mind—the fight with Holly, and Alexa’s own feelings of guilt and uncertainty. She’d resolved to take a break from boys and had to stick to that plan. It would give her the space and time she needed to sort herself out.

  “Diego…” Alexa began. Even saying his name was painful. “Diego, I think you’re so wonderful. But I can’t be with you right now.” She tried to turn away again but Diego kept his hands gently on her face.

  “Alexa,” he pleaded. “Maybe Holly thought she and I had something more than we did, and I guess that’s why she got so mad last night. But I swear to you that there’s nothing between us. I never lied to you, Alexa.”

  “I know,” Alexa whispered, choking up. How could she have ever doubted the burning sincerity in Diego’s eyes? She hadn’t imagined the intensity of his feelings last night; they’d been as real and powerful as her own. His honesty was so seductive, but Alexa couldn’t give into him now.

  “It’s not only about Holly,” Alexa said as she slowly removed Diego’s hands from her face. “It’s about me.” She felt her eyes grow hot, and she blinked back t
ears. “Maybe it’s because I just got out of a relationship, or because of what happened at the Delano. But I need to, I don’t know, make peace with myself before I can be with someone else again.” She dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand and gave Diego a small smile. “Does that make sense?”

  Diego nodded, swallowing hard. “It does. But I wish you’d…you’d still give me a chance.” He suddenly sounded so lost, like a little boy. Gone was the suave gentleman he’d been last night.

  Alexa knew that if she sat there any longer, she’d lose it and start weeping into Diego’s shirt. She hated crying in front of anyone. So she stood and dropped her camera back into her tote.

  “I should go,” she told Diego, her voice breaking.

  He stood quickly and took her hands in his. “Alexa, wait—will I see you again? When are you leaving Miami?”

  “On Friday,” Alexa whispered. “But please don’t try to find me, Diego.” She gazed into his beautiful eyes one last time. “Maybe…” she added thoughtfully. “Maybe if we’re meant to be together, we will be. Someday.”

  Then she raised her mouth to his and let herself kiss him quickly. If the kiss had lasted a second longer, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to leave him. She pulled back just in time, ran her finger along his sharp cheekbone, and walked off into the night, half hoping he would follow her. But he didn’t. As Alexa crossed Washington Avenue, she told herself she’d done the right thing. If only the right thing didn’t feel like utter heartbreak.

  Back in her room at the Flamingo, Alexa locked the door and settled on the carpet. She’d stopped at the drugstore on the way back and purchased new nail polish. Mani-pedis were Alexa’s favorite form of therapy, after shopping and boys. She didn’t have the energy to try on clothes now, and boys, of course, were out of the question.

  Alexa rubbed nail polish remover on her nails, thankful for the quiet around her. It was eleven o’clock, and everyone on her floor was most likely already out for the night, lining up for some club or another. For an instant, Alexa wondered what Holly was doing, but then she dismissed the thought entirely.

  Alexa was unscrewing the cap on her jar of Mystique Pink when somebody rapped on the door. She glanced up, irritated at the interruption. Was it Holly? Or, more likely, Kaitlin, acting as Holly’s proxy again? Alexa wasn’t sure which would be worse. Then the person knocked again and tried the doorknob.

  “Come in!” Alexa called imperiously.

  There was no response at first. Finally, a male voice asked, “Alexa?”

  Alexa caught her breath. No. It couldn’t be. How would he know to find her here?

  She stood and walked slowly to the door. Her imagination was playing tricks on her. It was probably Thomas, still hoping she’d be up for clubbing tonight.

  But when she unlocked the door and eased it open, she learned that her first guess had been accurate.

  “Tyler?” she whispered. She wanted to pinch herself. Was she actually looking at her ex-boyfriend? Here? In Florida?

  Tyler ran a hand through his thick, dark-blond hair and gave Alexa a sheepish half smile. He had his black messenger bag slung across his chest and was carrying a Puma duffle. He wore jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and Timberlands. He must have just flown in from New Jersey. But how? And why?

  “Hey,” he said awkwardly. “Surprise.”

  Alexa stared at him, speechless.

  “Can I come in?” Tyler asked, gesturing to his bags.

  “I—why—why are you here?” Alexa spluttered. “I never told you I was going to South Beach.” Dazed, she moved aside to let him enter, then shut the door and turned to face him as he set his duffle and messenger bag on the floor.

  Seeing Tyler in the middle of her room at the Flamingo felt no less bizarre than if a spaceship had suddenly crash-landed on the beach. Alexa shook her head, then sank onto the edge of Holly’s bed.

  “I know,” Tyler said, cracking his knuckles. “At first I figured you were spending the break in Oakridge, like me.”

  “So, wait, you didn’t go to Aspen?” Alexa asked.

  Tyler shook his head and smiled sadly. “Of course not, Alexa. Who was I going to go with at the last minute?”

  Alexa stared down at her bare toenails. That made sense. It also made her feel beyond guilty.

  “So I’m at home this week, watching, like, way too much TV,” Tyler continued, as if he’d rehearsed just how to tell Alexa his story. “And on Monday night, I start watching Pulse’s spring break special. Just to torture myself, I guess, because they’re showing all these guys on a beach having a great time.”

  “Why don’t you twist the knife a little deeper, Tyler?” Alexa sighed. “I get it. I suck.”

  “Let me finish,” Tyler said. “Then they start showing this insane bikini contest. And then I see Holly Jacobson up there! Random, right? And I’m remembering how you once told me you and Holly used to be good friends, and then…” He shrugged, as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Then I see you. Up on the stage with Holly. I thought I was dreaming.”

  “You saw the bikini contest?” Alexa cried. She was surprised by the coincidence, but also thrilled by the fact she’d actually been on TV. She’d always secretly suspected she might become famous one day. “I didn’t think anybody I know saw it! I mean, I did ask my dad to TiVo it but—”

  “Yeah,” Tyler said. “I called him as soon as I saw it. He told me everything. That you’d gone down to South Beach with Holly. Where you were staying. All that.”

  I’m going to kill my father, Alexa thought. She’d described the location of the Flamingo to him when she had called him after the bikini contest on Monday afternoon. He’d told Alexa to enjoy herself, and that he’d see her on Friday. Alexa had never suspected he would betray her by giving all the details to Tyler. And couldn’t he have even called Alexa to let her know Tyler was on his way down? Alexa could picture her dad, chain-smoking on the phone while flipping through the latest issue of ARTnews and half-listening as Tyler rambled on. He’d probably found Tyler’s phone call romantic, and had been happy to play the part of Cupid.

  “I got tickets online. The only available flight to Miami arrived at ten tonight,” Tyler finished with another shrug. “So here I am.”

  “How was the flight?” Alexa asked, remembering that Tyler had never flown before.

  “Whatever.” Tyler shrugged, but Alexa knew him well enough to know what that meant: He’d been completely terrified. She thought of Holly, and smiled to herself.

  A tense silence settled over the room as Alexa and Tyler studied each other. Alexa remained on Holly’s bed while Tyler stood by the dresser, and Alexa was acutely aware of the gulf between them. She was reminded of their last encounter, back in her bedroom on that gloomy Thursday afternoon. Had it really been less than a week? So much had changed between then and now.

  As if he were thinking the same thing, Tyler said, “You seem kind of different.”

  “How so?” Alexa asked, tugging on her braid and feeling mildly self-conscious.

  “Just…” He angled his head. “More laid-back or something.”

  “Oh,” Alexa said. She looked at Tyler, trying to surmise if he seemed different in any way. Tyler was so handsome that, sometimes, if Alexa hadn’t seen him for a while, his classic good looks were almost startling. She’d forgotten how chiseled his features were. In spite of herself, Alexa couldn’t help but feel flattered that Tyler had rushed down from New Jersey expressly to see her. To try and win her back.

  “Anyway,” Tyler said, clearing his throat. “We need to talk.” He folded his arms across his chest and looked at Alexa somberly. “I came down here because—”

  “I know,” Alexa cut him off gently. “You don’t have to explain. I’m blown away that you made this big trip for me, Tyler, but…” She shook her head. “We can’t get back together.” She lowered her lashes, hoping Tyler would take the rejection fairly well. She couldn’t believe she had turned down two boys over the course of one night.
That had to be some kind of record, albeit one that was very different from the record she’d set in Cannes.

  Tyler shook his head. “That’s not why I’m here, Alexa,” he said.

  Alexa blinked in surprise. “It’s not?”

  Tyler’s golden-brown eyes were thoughtful. “Well, when I first decided to fly to Miami, it was because I wanted to get back with you. I thought I’d pick up a bottle of wine, and roses, and tell you all the reasons we should be together.”

  Alexa pouted. Why hadn’t he brought her wine and roses? She was a total sucker for sappy gestures.

  “But…” Tyler continued. “Then I started thinking about things a lot on the plane. And I guess I actually came down here because I wanted a better answer.”

  “A better answer for what?” Alexa asked nervously.

  “For why you dropped me so suddenly,” Tyler said. “Like you’d made this split-second decision that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

  Alexa remembered Holly’s words from the night before: When you decided to drop me… Alexa’s throat tightened.

  “Tyler, the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you,” she began, her voice shaking. Oh, God. She couldn’t be about to cry again.

  “I was more confused than hurt,” Tyler said, drumming his fingers on the dresser behind him. “I spent the past five days trying to figure out what the hell happened in your bedroom, but I couldn’t. So I thought I’d go to the source.” His smile was tinged with sadness again.

  Alexa thought back to last Thursday, and how she’d closed the door on Tyler. Shame flooded through her. Then, she’d been so pleased with how she’d gotten rid of Tyler. Now, she felt terrible.

  “I was so callous,” Alexa finally spoke, her vision blurred with unshed tears. “I handled the situation all wrong.”

  Tyler crossed his arms over his chest again. “Well, you certainly did take me by surprise,” he admitted, addressing the carpet.