my goal for tonight isn’t attracting attention. It’s making peace.
“How’s your car, Annie?” Carly asks sweetly. “I saw you still in the parking lot Thursday when I left.”
“Good as new.” I won’t give her the satisfaction of getting to me, especially since I’m trying to smooth things over.
I glance around the patio. During the daytime, I love swimming laps in this pool. Now, the lights turn it electric blue. Sleek chaise loungers with side tables are arranged around the perimeter. A table with a bar and snacks sits discreetly off to one side. Built-in speakers at thirty different points in the patio—including some of the chairs, umbrellas, and the gardens—make it feel like the music’s inside us.
My gaze lands on the house. Uncle Ryan’s rules for tonight were no drinking and no coming inside—except for Miss Norelli, whom he greeted at the door. Now they’re in the living room, staring at each other on the couch.
The form I spot through the sliding glass doors isn’t Uncle Ryan.
I hold up my cup in a toast—the minions had the carafe spiked with Grey Goose before the caterer left—and Tyler shakes his head.
The slider opens, and Carly shrieks, “Tyler, let me get you a drink!”
She dashes to the bar and fills him a Solo cup, her curves bouncing under her tiny bathing suit.
“Come play ‘I’ve Never’ with us,” she insists as he crosses to where we’re standing along with Lana, Tara, and Jenna.
Of course Tyler’s jeans and T-shirt come off more compelling than the half-naked guys outside. I see him in school clothes as often as not, and I try not to stare at the way his black T-shirt hugs his chest and reveals strong arms, beautiful hands.
But when my gaze locks on his, something says he caught me looking.
Kellan starts the game, and I force my attention to him.
“I’ve never been fucked up the ass.”
Carly shoves Kellan but drinks. “Only me? Fine. I’ve never had a thousand people screaming my name.” She steps close enough to brush her boobs against Tyler’s arm as if she has fleas and he’s a scratching post. “That’s you, baby. That show you did in Miami last month.”
He cocks his head. When he speaks, his voice is amused, with an edge of something I can’t make out above the music. “I filled in as a favor to Jax when their guitarist had a car accident. The crowd didn’t know my name.”
“They were undressing you with their eyes. Same damn thing.”
Tyler looks as if he’s about to argue but takes a drink. “I’d rather be good than famous,” he says after, staring into his cup. “The best guitarists aren’t guys like Jax. They’re session musicians. They’ve played on every radio edit you’ve ever heard for the last seventy years, and you couldn’t name one of them. Not everyone needs thousands of screaming fans to be worthwhile.”
“Spoken like someone who’s afraid.” I’m supposed to be making friends, but I can’t resist stating the obvious. Tyler looks up. “Fame is only as dangerous as the person who commands it. If you’re talented enough to get the world’s attention for more than a few minutes, you have a responsibility to use it. It’s not something you can toss aside.”
Tyler’s nostrils flare, a muscle in his jaw working.
I’ve hit a sore spot in this boy they love to worship.
“It’s your turn,” Carly reminds Tyler.
Kellan drapes an arm around my neck, and I’m surprised because I almost forgot he was here, but Tyler’s attention locks on the arm around my neck as if he wants to melt it away with sheer disdain.
“I’ve never worn a garbage bag as a fashion statement.”
The comment works under my skin like a dull blade even before Carly screeches with laughter. “Drink, Annie. A lot. Jenna? You too.”
“But damn, girl, you make it look good,” Kellan murmurs, running a finger absently along my collarbone. It tickles like an insect, and I want to brush it away, but my attention’s on Tyler.
He looks pissed, or his self-contained version of it. I’ve never seen him lose his temper. He’s easygoing except when he broods, when whatever’s below the surface is carefully leashed and dealt with deep down, where he’d never let me. Where he’d never let anyone at this party, I’m willing to guess.
I’m genuinely at a loss for why he’s still standing here when he looks as though the last place he wants to be is poolside.
My throat is already burning, but I tip the cup back, swallowing gulp