Page 71
Story: Enemies
“Come on. It was a screener of his TV show. That’s a little different.”
Ash waves it off. “He’s the self-indulgent type who does anything for attention. Trust me, I’ve met lots of them over the years at private school and in sports.”
“Well, you’re missing out,” Annie says. “They’re drinking a new line of bourbon I brought from my dad’s company.”
“Jax Jamieson’s personal collection?” Ash rubs a hand over his jaw. Annie’s dad is an even bigger rock star than her husband, though he’s semi-retired from the stage to raise two kids with Annie’s stepmom in Dallas while working on his own label. “Fuck, I can’t pass that up.”
Ash walks in the direction of the other guys, and a moment later, the deck is quiet.
“Just us girls,” Annie murmurs.
I cut her a look. “Time to paint each other’s toenails?”
“Let’s play ‘Never Have I Ever,’” Elle decides as the waitstaff comes to top up our champagne.
“Annie’s not drinking.”
“That means I’ll win.” Annie winks.
Elle starts. “Never have I ever… fucked a musician.”
Annie and I both drink.
“Careful of all those bubbles,” Elle drawls, and Annie kicks her.
“Really? Not even at Vanier?” Annie asks when she’s done.
Our blond friend cackles. “Just because you go to arts school doesn’t mean you need to make the rounds of majors. Rae, who was yours?”
“Evan,” I recall. “In second year.”
“How was it?” Annie leans in.
“He was a yeller. Like, projecting-from-the-diaphragm loud. You’d think the man had conquered a large fishing village instead of my vagina.”
The other two crack up.
“Okay, my turn,” Annie decides.
“Hey”—I lift my glass—“it’s my birthday.”
“So shut your mouth and enjoy it.”
“I am enjoying it,” I admit, looking down the boat to where the guys are barely visible at the other end, as decent as they are handsome. We spent the afternoon on the beach, had an incredible dinner and dessert. I’m so happy it hurts. “I can’t believe you came all this way to see me.”
“Yeah, the scenery’s crap,” Elle supplies, and Annie slaps her arm.
“Mostly we love you,” Annie says.
“Your billionaire boy toy made it easy. The plane tickets were delivered to my door,” Elle adds.
“Yes. About that.” Annie straightens. “Tyler and I were a little surprised to get an invitation from Harrison for your birthday. You want to catch us up?”
I turn the glass in my hands, wondering whether its contents or Elle’s words are responsible for the sudden tingling in my stomach. “We started out as enemies. Now I don’t know what we are. I think he’s genuinely trying to improve his clubs, in LA and everywhere else. He had a pretty rough breakup last year, and his ex was part of the reason he lost focus.”
“They weren’t right for each other?” Annie asks, curious.
“That, plus he doesn’t trust easily. He’s not the kind of guy to put a relationship ahead of everything else he is.”
Ash waves it off. “He’s the self-indulgent type who does anything for attention. Trust me, I’ve met lots of them over the years at private school and in sports.”
“Well, you’re missing out,” Annie says. “They’re drinking a new line of bourbon I brought from my dad’s company.”
“Jax Jamieson’s personal collection?” Ash rubs a hand over his jaw. Annie’s dad is an even bigger rock star than her husband, though he’s semi-retired from the stage to raise two kids with Annie’s stepmom in Dallas while working on his own label. “Fuck, I can’t pass that up.”
Ash walks in the direction of the other guys, and a moment later, the deck is quiet.
“Just us girls,” Annie murmurs.
I cut her a look. “Time to paint each other’s toenails?”
“Let’s play ‘Never Have I Ever,’” Elle decides as the waitstaff comes to top up our champagne.
“Annie’s not drinking.”
“That means I’ll win.” Annie winks.
Elle starts. “Never have I ever… fucked a musician.”
Annie and I both drink.
“Careful of all those bubbles,” Elle drawls, and Annie kicks her.
“Really? Not even at Vanier?” Annie asks when she’s done.
Our blond friend cackles. “Just because you go to arts school doesn’t mean you need to make the rounds of majors. Rae, who was yours?”
“Evan,” I recall. “In second year.”
“How was it?” Annie leans in.
“He was a yeller. Like, projecting-from-the-diaphragm loud. You’d think the man had conquered a large fishing village instead of my vagina.”
The other two crack up.
“Okay, my turn,” Annie decides.
“Hey”—I lift my glass—“it’s my birthday.”
“So shut your mouth and enjoy it.”
“I am enjoying it,” I admit, looking down the boat to where the guys are barely visible at the other end, as decent as they are handsome. We spent the afternoon on the beach, had an incredible dinner and dessert. I’m so happy it hurts. “I can’t believe you came all this way to see me.”
“Yeah, the scenery’s crap,” Elle supplies, and Annie slaps her arm.
“Mostly we love you,” Annie says.
“Your billionaire boy toy made it easy. The plane tickets were delivered to my door,” Elle adds.
“Yes. About that.” Annie straightens. “Tyler and I were a little surprised to get an invitation from Harrison for your birthday. You want to catch us up?”
I turn the glass in my hands, wondering whether its contents or Elle’s words are responsible for the sudden tingling in my stomach. “We started out as enemies. Now I don’t know what we are. I think he’s genuinely trying to improve his clubs, in LA and everywhere else. He had a pretty rough breakup last year, and his ex was part of the reason he lost focus.”
“They weren’t right for each other?” Annie asks, curious.
“That, plus he doesn’t trust easily. He’s not the kind of guy to put a relationship ahead of everything else he is.”
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