In This Moment(56)

“Which are?”

“Most importantly, we’re going to need fake names. I’ll be Axel.”

I almost choke. “Axel?”

“Yeah.” He laughs. “It’s metal as fuck and I think I can pull it off. You can be…” He looks at me like he’s thinking hard.

“I can’t just be Aimee?”

“Nah, that’s no fun. How about Poppy?”

“Poppy?”

Cole nods.

“Okay,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Poppy it is. What else do I need to know?”

Cole takes my hand and leads me over to the bar area. The boat engine rumbles somewhere beneath our feet, but overhead the violet-edged sky beckons smoothly. A light, salty wind dances in from the water and lifts the skirt of my dress.

“Well, Poppy… You should have fun, act like you belong and no one will think twice about why they don’t know you because half of the people here are unfamiliar.” He grabs two water bottles from a tub full of ice and holds one out to me. “And, if possible, avoid Eric and Bailey as much as possible. Just to, you know, be on the safe side.”

I take the water bottle from him and scan the upper deck of the boat. The music has picked up a notch and people are starting to dance under the fanning white lights strung up on the deck. Through the crowd, I can make out the soon-to-be-newlyweds through the tinted windows to the interior cabin. Near the appetizer table there’s a little girl—maybe five years old—swaying her torso back and forth, cycling her arms like a windmill. “And what’s the rule on dancing?”

“Dancing?” Cole takes a sip of water and considers this for a second. “If I’m remembering the rules correctly, dancing is highly encouraged.”

“It is?”

Cole nods and looks down the deck. “It helps you blend in.”

“Well,” I say wistfully, not really believing that I’m about to do this. “Maybe we should.”

Cole rubs the back of his neck and smiles crookedly. “Dance?”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “Just to blend.”

“It would probably be a good idea,” he says, seeking out my eyes.

And then we do. Dance. Right there in the middle of a party that we weren’t invited to and it’s great. It’s better than great. It’s like the rest of the world falls away and it’s just Cole’s hands on the small of my back, my cheek pressed into his shoulder and the evening wind kicking up my hair and the bottom of my dress.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN





Cole



“Stop it,” I tell her. “They’re going to love you.”

Aimee looks over at me. “It’s not about that,” she says, stuffing a tube of reddish lip gloss into the bag on her lap and flipping the lighted mirror back to the roof of the truck. “I don’t care what people think.”

She shrugs to emphasize this but I know that she’s lying. It’s obvious. She cares what my friends think of her and it’s stupid and ridiculous and goddamn adorable.

I get it. I’ve been feeding myself the same pile of lies. I said it out loud even. That it didn’t matter what her sister and anyone else in her life thought about me because I’m with her, not them. Then I found myself searching the grocery store for organic roasted garlic hummus because she mentioned her sister liked it, and I wound up at a fucking punk show in the backroom of some sketchy club last Saturday because her friend’s sorta-boyfriend wanted to go.

“I’m calling bullshit.”

She laughs. “Whatever. You know that you like my bullshit.”

“I do.”

Silence.

“Hmmm… then why don’t you ever stay the night?” Occasionally Aimee does this—surprises me by doing or saying something really forward. It’s just another contradiction. She’s shy but she’s not shy. She’s sad but she laughs at my jokes. She’s quiet and reserved, but sometimes she starts talking and she doesn’t stop. Maybe one of these days I’ll figure her out.

“Aimee…” I stress her name slowly like a warning. “I told you—”

“I know what you told me, but—” She bites off her own words and turns to face the window.

“But what?” I wish that I could see her face right now.

“It just feels like… I don’t know. For you, there have been all these girls… but with me… maybe you don’t want—”

“I do want,” I correct.

Aimee sighs. “Never mind. I’m being stupid and insecure, right?”

I grip the steering wheel tight. I want to tell her that I would trade every single touch for one single taste of her… that she’s everything I didn’t know I wanted, but I don’t want to freak her out. “Reputations are usually greatly exaggerated but, yeah, I know that there have been ‘all these girls.’ Shit, Aimee… I hate that you know it too. And those girls? They don’t matter to me. I—” I suck in a long breath. “I probably don’t deserve it but I’m begging you for the chance to show you that you’re different—that I want you for more than… that.”