“If we take the wave runners out and just sit there, we might.”

“What else?”

“Macramé a pair of sandals.” I laugh at myself. “I probably won’t do that. I don’t even know how to macramé. Let’s see. Make a necklace out of shells. I do that every time I come here.”

“I’d like a shell necklace,” he says, pulling my hand to his lips and kissing it.

“We’ll look for shells tonight,” I say as we wander into the great room and find Peyton kicked back, tropical drink in hand, nibbling off a tray of snacks.

“You need to go change,” she says to Aiden.

My surfboard.

8pm

I’ve given them the full tour, we’ve walked the beach, and we’re now sitting poolside, having a drink and a few appetizers before dinner.

Aiden is telling us about his parents’ Thanksgiving safari when Peyton says casually, “There’s a guy walking up your beach with a surfboard.” She takes another sip of her fruity umbrella drink then asks, “Do people surf at night?”

“Around sunset they do, but not usually in the dark,” I reply, instantly panicking that Vincent has found me.

But then I turn around and see him.

He’s walking up the sandy path, carrying a surfboard and looking like home.

“Oh my gosh! That’s not just any surfboard! It’s my surfboard!” I scream with delight.

I jump up and barrel towards him as he yells out, “Keats!”

I fling myself into his arms and plant a big kiss on him as he picks me up and twirls me around.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” I screech. “And you brought my board!”

When he drops me to my feet, I don’t let go. The last time I saw him, I didn’t hug him like I should have.

“I thought you were supposed to be here alone,” he says.

Shit, I think, glancing back at Aiden and Peyton. This is going to be hard to explain.

“I was but they showed up at the plane and—wait, how did you get here? Do people know you’re here? What if you were followed?”

“Calm down, Keats. I flew from Tokyo to L.A. Went to my dad’s. Even went to the Undertow and offered to play for them tomorrow night, knowing I wouldn’t show up. Then I snuck over to your house and got your board. Glad no one’s changed the garage code. Dad’s assistant picked me up at the pier, drove me around in circles, and then to the airport where I hitched a ride with a company exec to North Carolina. In North Carolina, I had another plane waiting to bring me here. No one knows I’m here but B and Dad’s assistant. Even my family thinks I’m home sleeping off jet lag.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too. Now for what’s important. Tell me that incredible creature sitting on my deck is real and not an amazing jet-lag-induced mirage.”

“She’s real, Damian, but you can’t.”

“Oh, but I can. She has the most perfect lips.”

“Ohmigawd, no. Don’t look at her mouth. Don’t even look at her. And don’t talk to her at all.”

“I’m not going to be rude to your friends.”

“Don't you dare fall for her. You can’t.”

“Too late. She just smiled at me. I'm in love.”

“Damian. No.”

“Don’t tell me no. Be nice. I went through a lot to get here so that you wouldn’t be alone for the holiday. But, happily, you are not. And you even brought me a treat.”

“She is not your treat, but I suppose I’m going to have to have to introduce you.”

“Hell, yeah, you have to. I need to be introduced to my future wife.”

I laugh at him and start to walk back, when Damian grabs my arm and says, “You forgetting something?”

“Oh my gosh! Yes, I am!” I walk back to him with a grin. I love this boy. Ever since the first time I came here when I was nine, he's given me a piggyback ride up to the house.

He drops my board in the sand as I jump onto his back and hang on tight.

He does his normal crazy gallop up to the house, trying to get me to fall, and then deposits me on the deck in front of Aiden and Peyton.

“So, this is my friend, Damian. He brought my surfboard,” I say awkwardly, because I haven’t had the chance to figure out exactly what to say. At school, no one can contradict my lies. Damian and I need to get our stories straight.

“Damian, this is Aiden,” I say as the boys shake hands. “And his sister, Peyton.”

Damian stares into her green eyes with an intensity I’ve never seen.

“Hi,” she says, her voice cracking.

“It looks like I need a drink.” He barely gets the words out of his mouth when Sven sets Damian’s favorite pineapple rum drink in front of him. “It’s good to be back home,” Damian says.

“Home? As in, this is your home?” Aiden asks incredulously.

Damian nods.

“Where have you been?” Peyton asks him excitedly.

“Just traveling around,” Damian answers cryptically. Does he not want Peyton to know he’s in a band or is he worried about our cover story?

“Well, that’s very specific,” Aiden says in a condescending tone.

I look at Aiden. He’s not relaxed anymore. His body is stiff and he’s squeezing the life out of the napkin that was under his drink. Does he not like Damian? Is he mad that I gave him a big kiss on the cheek?

Damian glances at me, giving me his that-guy’s-a-dick look.

“Tell them where you’ve been, Damian,” I say, trying to ease the uncomfortable tension.

“Well, I recently had the pleasure of surfing all over the coast of Japan.”

Aiden smashes his teeth together and pushes himself away from the table with so much force our drinks slosh all over. “Excuse me,” he says and walks away.

Peyton looks at her brother with confusion as Damian says, “What’s his problem?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” I get up and go after him.

He’s marching quickly down the path Damian just walked up.

“Aiden, wait,” I say, running behind him. When he turns around to face me, there’s fire in his eyes.

“You seriously brought me on vacation to his house?”

“Um, yeah. He’s a nice guy, Aiden. You should get to know him.” I stare at him, not understanding why he’s so pissed. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Is that the real reason you told us not to come? Because he decided to?”

“What? No! I didn’t know he was coming, in case you couldn’t tell by my happy screams of surprise.”

“Of course. You’re his Keats. He brings your surfboard and you forget all about me and the dirt.”

“I haven’t forgotten about you or the dirt—oh, wait! He’s not the Keats guy.”

“Bullshit!” Damian yells out from behind us.

“Shut up,” I yell back.

“Don’t let her give you any bullshit stories, man. I’ve always been the Keats guy.”

I grab Aiden’s arm and march him back to the deck, saying to Damian, “Yes, you gave me the nickname, Keats. But I think he thinks you’re B.”

“Oh . . .” Damian says, finally getting it. He turns to Aiden. “Is that why you were being such a dick?” Aiden doesn’t reply, so Damian stands up, pulls me close to him, and laughs. “I may not be that Keats guy, but I was the first guy to kiss her. When she was twelve. You can be jealous of that, if you want.”

“But that’s it,” I quickly state.

“Yeah,” Damian says, faking sadness and shaking his head in sorrow. “I was always her frog.”

I smile at Damian. He’s being adorable and Aiden has already unrolled his fists.

“She hates this,” Damian says, then he licks his tongue up the entire side of my face and goes, “Ribbit!”

I playfully smack him, so he falls back into his chair.

I decide to tell them the story of how I know Damian. That way Damian and I will be on the same page. “I’ve known Damian since I was little. We went to school together and after my dad died, my mom wasn’t coping very well, so the Morans invited us to come stay with them.”

“Back then, it was nothing like what it is today,” Damian adds.

“What was it like?” Peyton asks, batting her eyelashes at him.