her arms around me and said to Hannah, “See, Banana? I told you: Georgie’s me, if I were seven years younger and a hot as fuck brunette!”
And I’m not the only one feeling comfortable here tonight. I can tell Alessandra feels relaxed and happy, too, thanks to her amazing connection with Fish. He’s been a dream to her. Introducing her around. Pulling her into conversations and games of ping pong and HORSE. Thereby drawing her out of her shell in record time.
And I can’t forget the smashing success of the “business” side of this amazing party, as well. Reed said I’d be able to bond with his artists at this party, in a way that would elevate the content of the special issue. And he was exactly right. I’ve played ping pong with Savage from Fugitive Summer. Corn hole with members of Danger Doctor Jones. For God’s sake, Laila Fitzgerald and I now have our own secret handshake—an intricate maneuver we concocted while teaming up to beat Aloha and Zander in beer pong.
And through it all, Reed has been perfect. As requested, he’s treated me with nothing but professionalism tonight. Well, to the naked eye, anyway. Covertly, we’ve flirted like crazy with each other across the crowded party all night long, the same way we secretly flirted with each other throughout the entire panel discussion a lifetime ago.
The panel discussion.
Wow.
It really does feel like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been a few weeks. Since then, I’ve graduated college. Met my idol. Snagged my dream job. I’ve moved into Reed’s mansion, and befriended famous, glamorous people like it was a totally normal thing to do. I’ve breathed a sigh of relief to have my father’s medicine and condo paid for, and worn a ruby necklace worth eighty thousand dollars around my neck. I’ve experienced a kind of pleasure I didn’t know existed, and found a powerful new kind of confidence in the process...
And, of course, last but not least, I’ve fallen head over heels for an incredible, generous man with a huge heart. A man who makes me feel safe and adored in a way I needed so badly, but didn’t even realize. Yes, I’ve fallen head over heels for Reed. I can’t deny it any longer. I belong to him—mind, body, and soul.
Will everything turn into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight? My brain is telling me the odds are high. But my heart doesn’t give a crap. My heart is barreling ahead, with zero ability to swerve. At this point, I’m Reed’s yellow Ferrari. And if Reed is the tree that’s going to leap out into the middle of the road, then so be it.
The crowd at the party cheers wildly, jerking me from my thoughts. I’m standing at the foot of the stage with some of my new friends, while the current “super-group” of musicians onstage—a group that includes Fish, Aloha, 2Real, Dax, and more—finishes their performance.
The musicians pile offstage to back slaps and high-fives, and the minute Fish sees Alessandra standing next to me, alongside Hannah, Maddy, and Kat, he heads straight for her.
“I could use some fresh air,” Fish says to Alessandra. “You want to go outside with me?”
“Absolutely,” Alessandra says, looking as happy as I’ve ever seen her.
He puts his hand out. She grabs it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And off they go.
“Well, that was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Hannah says.
Maddy, Kat, and I agree.
“They’re like Bambi and that female doe, when they first meet as babies,” Kat says.
“Faline,” Hannah supplies.
“Yes!” Kat says, laughing. “They’re like Bambi and Faline. Both of them are so sweet and awkward and bashful together.”
“I can’t believe how quickly Fish has already drawn Ally out of her shell tonight,” I say. “She went to an all-girls’ high school, where she had literally zero experience with boys. And now, in college, she says half the guys are gay, and the other half have friend-zoned her, so she’s still a big-time newbie when it comes to boys.”
“Hey, just like you,” Hannah jokes to Kat, and Kat pats her big belly and laughs.
“Well, if Alessandra is a newbie, then Fish is a perfect starter kit for her,” Maddy pipes in to say. “Just the other night, he and the Goats were over, and Fish said he’s sick to death of the kinds of girls he meets on tour. ‘Star-fuckers,’ is what the Goats call them. Fish said he’s done with