The elevator doors slid open, and they walked out into a narrow corridor. They stopped in front of an unmarked door, where another bunch of orchids lay waiting. Diego took a key out of his pocket, and unlocked the door. Alexa followed him outside into the night air.
She gasped. They were standing in a spectacular roof garden, looking out on a sweeping nighttime view of South Beach. The city was aglow with thousands of sparkling lights, and the full moon rose above the vista, round and plump as a peach. Alexa took it all in, her eyes scanning the bright, seemingly infinite panorama.
“Oh, Diego,” she whispered. “It’s amazing.” She turned to study his beautiful profile.
“I thought you should get another look at South Beach before you leave,” Diego said, gazing out at the view. “And I reserved the roof for the night, so it’s all ours to admire.”
And then Alexa noticed that the roof garden itself was aglow. Small white candles flickered all along the wide ledge, and everywhere she looked, there were bouquets of white orchids. Her eyes followed the trail of glorious flowers to a picnic blanket, strewn with pillows. On the blanket was a bottle of Merlot, two full wine glasses, a basket overflowing with French bread, cheeses, olives, and grapes, and two white plates, carefully laid with napkins and silverware. Next to the blanket rested a sleek silver CD player, and the classic sixties song “My Cherie Amour” was playing softly. For the first time in her life, Alexa St. Laurent found herself flustered beyond words. No boy had ever done anything this romantic for her before.
“Do you like it?” Diego asked, taking a step closer to her. She turned to him. His big black eyes were hopeful.
Alexa managed to nod, and then she tried speaking. “I—why did—you shouldn’t—”
Diego grinned, putting a finger to her lips. Then he placed his hand on her waist and pulled her in. “Let’s not talk yet, okay? Let’s just dance.”
Alexa let the orchids fall from her arms as she drew close to Diego. She twined her arms around his neck, breathing in his warm, spicy scent. His full lips were tantalizingly near hers, and, as they danced to the slow, jazzy music, Alexa felt their bodies melding together perfectly. They moved exactly in sync with each other. The music shifted fluidly into one of Alexa’s favorite Bob Marley songs, “Turn Your Lights Down Low.” He must have made a mix this afternoon, after we talked, Alexa thought dreamily. He’d planned all this—the flowers, the food, the rooftop. Everything.
“You didn’t listen to me at all,” Alexa finally said.
“What do you mean?” Diego asked innocently, but the mischievous sparkle in his eyes gave him away. He twirled her around, then pulled her back in, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Alexa drew back a little and gestured to the swoonworthy roof garden. “I said we should have a friendly dinner, and you played along…But this is not very friendly, you know.” She tried to sound firm, but Alexa knew her words were pointless. She couldn’t be Diego’s friend. She was head over heels for this boy.
“Friendly.” Diego furrowed his brow and tipped his head to one side, as if he were deep in thought. “Hmm. I might have some problems with the exact definition of ‘friendly.’” He stopped dancing and studied her, his hands on her arms. “For instance, can you tell me if this is friendly?” He leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her cheek.
Alexa nodded slowly. If only that friendly kiss wasn’t making her body ache for some more not-so-friendly kisses.
“Then how about this?” Diego whispered, putting one hand behind Alexa’s neck and touching his full lips to the corner of her mouth.
“That was a little questionable,” Alexa responded shakily. Her lips were tingling.
With agonizing slowness, Diego kissed the divot above Alexa’s upper lip, then her chin, her forehead, and both her cheeks, deliberately avoiding her lips. Alexa closed her eyes, half-delirious from this delicious torment. When she opened them again, Diego was gazing at her with that familiar teasing look. He traced the delicate shape of Alexa’s mouth with his finger.
“Alexa, I hope you won’t take this the wrong way,” he murmured. “But I don’t think we should be friends anymore.”
“Me, neither,” Alexa sighed, and, at last, Diego kissed her on the lips. Fully and deeply. Alexa clung to him, returning his kiss with all the pent-up longing she’d borne since that night at the Delano. Then, abruptly, she remembered her list of reasons from earlier, about why they shouldn’t be together, and she snapped back to reality.
“No,” she mumbled, pulling away from him entirely. “I want this so badly…but…like I said before…” She was having trouble forming the words. She had told Diego, last night, that she needed to make peace with herself. But maybe she already had. Her talks with Tyler and with Holly had helped Alexa start to untangle some of her own issues. And Holly is over Diego, Alexa reasoned. She’s the one who made this date happen tonight, right?
“I’m so confused, Diego,” Alexa finally said, putting her hands to her cheeks.
“Come here,” he responded softly, taking Alexa’s hand and leading her to the picnic blanket. They knelt down on the pillows, and Diego pulled a dangling bunch of grapes and a triangle of cheese from the basket. The food looked delicious, but Alexa wasn’t sure she could eat. The scent of the orchids, and the music melding with the hum of the night breeze was making her feel light-headed.
“After we talked on Lincoln Road last night, I also thought I was confused,” Diego began. He took a sip from his wineglass. “But then I realized how simple it all was.” He reached for Alexa’s hand, his expression serious. “Alexa, I just want to be with you.”
When Alexa shook her head, Diego added, “I understand that you might need space now. I get that logically. But I can’t stop thinking about you—and thinking that we should be together.” Diego shrugged. “Maybe it’s irrational, but…”
“I feel exactly the same way,” Alexa confessed in a whisper, threading her fingers through Diego’s. She remembered how she’d been unable to stop herself from calling him that afternoon. Maybe, Alexa thought, it’s your irrational feelings that tell you the truth. She picked up her wineglass, too, taking a sip and savoring the sweet, oaky taste.
“But,” Alexa added reluctantly, putting her glass down. “How would it even work? I mean, you’re here in Florida and I’m in New Jersey and…”
Diego shook his head, his face breaking into an irresistible smile. He squeezed her hand. “Alexa, I’m in New Jersey, too. Or I will be.”
“What are you talking about?” Alexa asked incredulously.
“I’m starting Princeton in the fall,” Diego told her.
“You are?” Alexa cried. Somehow, in all their conversations, the topic of college had never come up. But this news changed everything: Princeton was only twenty minutes from Oakridge. Alexa’s mind leaped ahead, considering the sumptuous possibilities: She could drive to Diego’s dorm after school; he could come to her house; they could take weekend trips…They could be together whenever they wanted.
Boyfriends aren’t overrated, Alexa realized with a burst of joy. Not when you found someone who was so absolutely right for you.
“What are you thinking?” Diego asked, staring at Alexa with undisguised affection. He set down his wine, then reached over and stroked her cheek.
“I’m thinking…that I can’t wait until the fall,” Alexa whispered, slipping her hand under the collar of Diego’s shirt, feeling the heat of his skin.
Diego’s face lit up as he took in the full meaning of Alexa’s words. “Neither can I,” he murmured. He reached down and plucked a burgundy grape off the cluster, then held it to Alexa lips. “But we still have some time in South Beach,” he added. “We should make the most of it, don’t you think?”
Slowly, Alexa opened her mouth and ate the grape, her tongue brushing against his fingers. “Sounds like a plan,” she said, her eyes never leaving his.
Diego swallowed hard, then put his arm around Alexa, drawing her very close. “I
can’t believe you’re here with me right now,” he told her. “If you hadn’t called this afternoon, I’d be having dinner with some friends at Puerto Sagua and moping over you.”
“Puerto Sagua?” Alexa repeated. “I was supposed to go there with Holly and Ida tonight.”
Diego shook his head, smiling in disbelief. “You mean we would’ve seen each other, anyway?”
“Remember when we said good-bye on Lincoln Road?” Alexa asked, burying her head in Diego’s warm neck. “And I told you we’d find each other again if we were meant to be?” She looked up at him tenderly. “So I guess we are. You can’t argue with destiny, right?”
In response, Diego kissed her again. And again. Each kiss was deeper and more burning than the last. Wordlessly, Alexa and Diego fell back against the pillows, their lips and hands exploring, searching. The candles glimmered around them, and the city shimmered below them, but Alexa was only aware of Diego’s breath as it joined with hers, his lips at her throat, the smooth feel of his cinnamon-colored skin…
Feverishly, Alexa undid several buttons on Diego’s shirt, kissing his neck and chest. Diego carefully slid down Alexa’s yellow spaghetti straps. He stroked her bare shoulders and planted purposeful kisses all the way down her collarbone, while gently moving his hands along her body, and playfully toying with the hem of her skirt. Alexa gave a murmur of pleasure, and Diego looked up at her with a smile.
“You tell me how far you want to go,” he whispered.
Alexa buried her hands in his smooth dark hair and guided Diego’s face back down toward her neck.
“I will,” she sighed. She stretched luxuriously up against him, utterly losing herself in the moment.
And Alexa’s last coherent thought, before she sank into a haze of desire, was that she wished this for Holly. This feeling of sensual satisfaction, this breathtaking romantic intensity…and this pure joy, knowing the person you were falling in love with was falling in love with you, too.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Completely Real
Holly walked up Ocean Drive, swinging her little black bag, pleasantly flushed from the mojito she’d had with dinner. Over a long Cuban meal, Holly had filled Grandma Ida in on the past week’s events, and her grandmother had, predictably, been supportive about everything. The only slightly sour part of the evening had been when Diego’s friend, Ian, along with a bunch of other guys and girls, sauntered into the restaurant. This town is too small, Holly had thought, reluctantly returning Ian’s wave. She finished the rest of her mojito quickly, Grandma Ida paid the bill, and Holly walked her grandmother to the street where Alexa had parked the Pontiac.
Before taking off in the car, Grandma Ida gave Holly the necessary cash, wished her luck with her parents, and insisted that Holly have as much fun as possible during her last two nights in South Beach.
Now, as Holly approached the Flamingo, she wondered what sort of fun she’d have between tonight and Friday. After last night’s misadventures—a few of which were still foggy in Holly’s head—she was done with clubbing for a while. Holly felt comfortable in her own skin tonight, happy not to be dolled up and tottering around in strappy sandals. She was wearing a floral A-line skirt that came to just above her knees, her black Urban Outfitters tank, and black flip-flops.
Holly remembered her pink-and-silver getup from the night before with a shudder. She should probably donate it to Kaitlin or Daisy, either of whom would get more use out of it than Holly ever would. Holly stopped in front of the Flamingo, and gazed up toward the small, darkened window of Number 7. Should she go upstairs? When she and Alexa had parted ways in the lobby that evening, they’d decided that Holly should take the room key for the night. Holly had agreed to leave the door unlocked if she got home before Alexa, and Alexa had assured Holly she wouldn’t be back late. I wonder what Alexa and Diego are doing, Holly thought, feeling the faintest prickle of jealousy.
Holly began walking under the Flamingo’s arch, reaching inside her bag for the key. This was good. She’d get to bed at a decent hour, wake up early, and go for a jog on the promenade. Despite her best intentions, Holly realized, she hadn’t gone running once during her time here.
But it was a balmy, breezy night, and something about the full moon and the sway of the palm trees felt so seductive. Holly closed her bag, turned, and walked away from the Flamingo. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do, but she wasn’t quite ready for bed yet.
Aimlessly, Holly crossed the street and wandered out onto the beach, slipping off her flip-flops and letting her bare feet sink into the cool sand. There were a few couples cuddling in the darkness. Holly walked past a group of kids in a circle, passing around what she guessed was a joint, but for the most part the beach was empty. Holly drifted toward the ocean and walked briskly along the shore, the cold, foamy water licking her toes. The full moon hung overhead, casting a hazy white glow over the waves.
Up ahead, Holly saw a boy jogging along the shore. He was tall and trim, with wavy, dark-blond hair, and he wore a hooded sweatshirt over track pants. He was running at a steady, rhythmic pace, and his movements were graceful.
Why didn’t I think of that? Holly wondered. A moonlight run on the shore would have been the perfect way to cap off her evening. He must be a dedicated athlete, Holly thought. And, she couldn’t help but notice with a grin, he has a pretty cute butt.
Curious about the mystery jogger, Holly put on a burst of speed, walking quickly until she was directly behind him. Suddenly, he seemed to sense someone was following him. He stopped abruptly and wheeled around, locking eyes with Holly. She gasped, ready to apologize for acting like a stalker, when she recognized the jogger. It was Tyler Davis—the lacrosse guy from Oakridge. Alexa’s ex.
Right, Holly realized, remembering Alexa’s story.
Tyler’s face broke into a wide smile. “Holly,” he said, almost as if he’d been expecting to see her.
“Hey, Tyler,” Holly said shyly. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Back in Oakridge, the mere idea of talking to Tyler Davis would have totally intimidated Holly. He was the school’s golden boy: gorgeous and gifted. There was even a rumor that he’d modeled for American Eagle. Holly had had a few classes with him, she’d seen him in the stands at a couple of track meets, and she knew he was dating Alexa. But she couldn’t remember ever speaking to him. Boys like Tyler usually made her way too nervous.
But now, standing on this familiar stretch of sand, Holly was utterly at ease. The wind was blowing her sun-streaked hair back, and she felt tanned and lithe and relaxed. She had reconciled with Alexa, she wasn’t worrying about her parents anymore, and the Diego drama was finally behind her. All that was on Holly’s mind was the ocean and the moon and the sultry spring night. Here, none of the rules and hierarchies of high school applied.
Tyler was only slightly out of breath. He must be in good shape, Holly thought. He pulled off his sweatshirt and tucked it under his arm, his shoulders broad in a white Oakridge Lacrosse T-shirt. He rested his hands on his hips as he and Holly stood facing each other at the water’s edge. He had the most interesting eyes, Holly noticed—light brown, with flecks of amber.
“I thought I might run into you at some point,” Tyler said. “No pun intended.”
Holly grinned at his lame joke. She’d always imagined Tyler as sophisticated, but he seemed sort of boyish now.
“It does make sense,” Holly agreed. “Alexa told me you’re also crashing at the ever-so-glamorous Flamingo.” She giggled.
The moonlight was bright enough that she could make out Tyler blushing.
“You guys are rooming together, right?” he asked. The unspoken sentiment was: So you know everything.
Holly nodded, remembering the details Alexa had told her over lunch. Tyler had been in her room. On her bed, in fact. Weird.
There was a pause, and Tyler looked down at the sand. There was something endearing about his embarrassment, Holly thought.
“I think it’s really romantic, what
you did,” Holly said truthfully. She had been bowled over by Alexa’s story. What Holly wouldn’t give for a guy to hop on a plane just for her.
Now Tyler was definitely blushing. “Nah,” he said. “Try impulsive. I just saw that show on Pulse, and boom—decided to come down.”
Oh, yeah. Now Holly felt herself blushing. Tyler had seen the bikini contest. He’d seen her.
Tyler seemed to sense what she was thinking. “Was it cool being on TV?” he asked.
“I guess,” Holly replied, feeling some of her earlier confidence ebb away. “Was it weird seeing me?”
Tyler shrugged. “I was surprised at first. But you, um, you looked good.”
“Did you even recognize me?” Holly laughed nervously. She thought of herself back home in Oakridge—usually in a hoodie and jeans.
“Totally,” Tyler replied. “You looked exactly like yourself. Just more…”
“More of me?” Holly cut him off. She giggled and Tyler laughed, too.
“More confident or something,” he said. “Not that you don’t seem confident in school and stuff—it’s just—” He was stammering, and now he seemed kind of nervous. He must still feel awkward about the Alexa thing, Holly realized. She probably should leave him alone for the night.
“Did you want to keep running?” Holly asked, turning to head back up the beach. “I’m sorry I was trailing you. I like to run myself, so I wanted to see if I could keep up with you.”
“No, that’s cool,” Tyler said. “I’m kind of due for a break, anyway.” He lifted the bottom of his T-shirt and wiped his face with it. Holly caught a glimpse of his toned six-pack. “Do you want to sit down?” he asked her. “My towel’s over there.” He pointed back up the beach.