Page 14 of Hotter in the Hamptons

Aly made scrambled eggs and sourdough toast while Lola, still wearing just Aly’s underwear and T-shirt, sliced strawberries. They ate quietly at the kitchen island, their feet touching lightly under their stools. Lola wondered if she should try to make conversation but didn’t feel pressed about it. There was something so nice about just sitting together. She didn’t want to ruin it with small talk.

When they finished eating, Lola tried to bring the dishes to the sink, but Aly stopped her. “Don’t you dare,” she warned, taking the plates out of her hand. Then Aly kissed her for so long, Lola wondered if they were headed back to bed. She wanted to. She had nothing else to do anyway. Maybe they could have sex again and then take a nap. She felt herself grow wet anticipating it.

But then Aly pulled away and said, “I don’t mean to kick you out, but…”

Before she could finish, Lola’s pride swept in like the tide, snuffing out that early spark of interest growing in her belly. “No worries!” she chirped in her friendliest voice, masking the hurt, even though she knew it was silly. “Thanks for a super-fun night.”

“Lola,” Aly groaned, laughing. “ A super-fun night? I just have a deadline this morning is all. The Cut wants a story on the Goop launch, and it needs to run this afternoon.”

Chagrin swept through Lola, the explanation soothing that buzzy voice of anxiety in her head. It was as if Aly didn’t want to play any games, wasn’t into the whole mindfuck of the post-sex will they, won’t they . “Okay,” she said. “In that case, I had a great time.”

“Yeah, me too.” Aly nodded, opening the door. “Like, the best time.”

They kissed in the open doorway, the warm morning breeze tickling Lola’s hair. Aly grabbed Lola’s hip, lightly smacking her ass with her other hand. Lola laughed into Aly’s mouth.

“I’ll be thinking about you all day,” Aly said.

“Good,” Lola said and forced herself to leave. Once she was in the driveway, she looked over her shoulder. Aly stood there with her arms crossed, wearing sweatpants and her sleep tank, grinning. Lola waved. Aly waved back. Lola promised herself she wouldn’t look back again until she got to her own front door.

Which was when she realized that Ryan was there, in their doorway, his mouth open and his eyes twinkling.

“Hi, Aly,” he called across the driveway.

“Hi,” Aly said with a sheepish grin, closing her door. They hadn’t been officially introduced, but Lola knew they’d seen each other across the hedges.

Lola reached Ryan, her face turning the color of a strawberry. “How much did you see?”

A lot, apparently.

Having a witness made it all the more real. Holy fucking shit , she thought. I just slept with ARC.

He grabbed her by both arms and yanked her into the house. Before the door was fully closed behind her, he shrieked, “LOLA LIKES PUSSY?”

“Oh my god ,” Lola said, annoyed that Ryan had already turned her night into a hashtag, but then she was struck by how funny it was, and before she knew it, she was laughing so hard that tears shot sideways out of her eyes.

Ryan was hysterical too, holding on to her as they both slid to the floor. When he could speak again, he said, “So after all that angry obsession, it turned out you just wanted to scissor her?”

“It would appear so,” she said, wiping her face. “Sue me.”

***

Later, after regaling Ryan with a thorough play-by-play of the past twelve hours and then taking a shower—reluctantly washing Aly’s smell off her skin—Lola climbed into bed with her laptop and googled how to make a woman cum.

This, she knew, was slightly presumptive. It wasn’t like they had made plans to see each other again. For all she knew, it was a one-and-done sort of thing. Maybe Aly hadn’t enjoyed it as much as she had. But still, if it did happen again, she wanted to be ready.

But the search results were not super specific, too AI-generated to be helpful. She tried how to have sex with a woman for the first time; how lesbians have sex; what does it mean if a girl doesn’t want you to touch her back; how to tell if she likes me; diagram of a vulva.

Then she typed am I gay?

She deleted it before even hitting search. She knew the answer—she wasn’t. Her feelings for Aly didn’t invalidate her feelings for all the men that came before.

Between each search, she checked her phone, wondering when or if Aly would ever text her. She kept having flashbacks to their night together: Aly’s fingers curled inside her, Aly’s hot breath on her ear. It was better than anything she had fantasized about.

Lola Fine , she said to herself as a vivid image of Aly pressing her into the door took hold. You are down bad.

Then she heard a knock. She checked the time. It was almost noon. “Ryan?” she called out. “Can you get that?” No answer. He must have left while she was in the shower, going to see that guy again. She wondered if she’d ever meet the mystery man or if Ryan was purposefully keeping him away from her. The thought left her mind as quickly as it entered, though. There were other things to worry about—like figuring out Aly’s G-spot. And getting the door.

She was in a robe with her hair wrapped in a towel as she made her way downstairs, another knock quickening her step.

“Coming!” she yelled. She pulled the robe tighter around her chest as she opened the door. And froze.

“Bad time?” It was Aly. She leaned against the doorframe, the perfect picture of casual cool. Like she just happened to be here. In the neighborhood. Stopping by.

“Oh my god, hi!” Lola felt a rush of warmth.

“I realized I don’t have your number,” Aly said, smiling.

“Shit, that’s right,” Lola laughed. “And here I was waiting for your text.” She immediately winced. “I mean…very casually waiting.”

Aly laughed. “Well, if I’d had your number, I would have said that I really enjoyed our night together and would love to do it again soon.”

Lola put a hand on her hip. “How soon?”

“What are you doing right now?”

Lola just about dragged Aly up the stairs.

In the guest bedroom, Aly sat on Lola’s bed and watched as Lola took her wet hair out of the towel. And then, feeling only a little self-conscious, Lola untied her robe and let it drop to the floor. She stood in front of Aly completely naked.

Aly rose to her feet, wrapping her arms around Lola. Lola liked the feel of her bare skin against Aly’s soft linen pants and even softer T-shirt. Aly ran her hands up and down Lola’s spine as she kissed her.

“This is going to be a weird thing to say, but I missed you,” Aly said.

Lola couldn’t say it back because Aly’s hands were already between her legs, rendering her speechless.

***

For the next three days, Aly and Lola did nothing but fuck, eat, and sleep. Or rather, Aly continued to make Lola come, and Lola quietly worried about whether she should return the favor.

Eventually, Aly turned her phone off and left it like that. The biggest event of each day was figuring out whose house to camp out at, an easier feat with Ryan being conspicuously absent from Giancarlo’s, but other than that, they were bed bound. And shower bound and couch bound. And a couple of times on the floor.

The first time Aly went down on Lola, on her knees in the shower, Lola was pretty sure she understood why people believed in God.

She didn’t know how anything could feel that good. Aly’s tongue pressed into her with the exact right pressure. Then, as her lips encircled Lola’s clit, she put one finger inside Lola while her thumb rested on Lola’s asshole, and Lola sank to the floor of the tub, unable to hold herself up any longer.

“How are you so good at this?” she said when she could speak again.

“Not to sound like a jerk, but I’ve been a lesbian for a long time.” Aly smirked. “You pick up a thing or two along the way.”

After that, Lola required Aly’s mouth on her. Sometimes Aly would drag it out, spending too much time kissing Lola’s stomach while Lola squirmed in anticipation.

All the while, Lola wondered when Aly would be ready for Lola to return the favor. If she wanted Lola to return the favor. If Lola knew how to return the favor. The many, many favors.

Finally one afternoon, after Lola had come twice in a row in Aly’s bed, she said, “I totally respect your boundaries, but I would very much like to touch you.”

Aly turned pink.

“I’m sorry,” Lola said. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to. It’s just starting to seem unfair.”

Aly was quiet for a few seconds while Lola’s heart thundered nervously in her chest. Finally, Aly said, “I am going to need you…to cut your nails first.”

Lola blushed as she looked at her sharp, pink talons. “That’s fair.”

She flew to the bathroom and trimmed them down, doing a horrible, uneven job. It was fine. She could get it fixed by a professional later.

But when she got back in bed, Aly’s face was drawn. She’d pulled the covers up to her chin, like she was hiding.

Lola propped herself up on her elbow. “Tell me what’s happening.”

Aly groaned, but the faraway look on her face passed. “It’s not that I don’t want you to,” she said. “I really want you to. It’s just…my worst fear is that you’ll be faced with my vagina and realize you’re not into it. How would I ever recover from that kind of rejection?”

Lola’s stomach sank as she realized that Aly was right to have that fear. She didn’t know what would happen if—when?—she formally met Aly’s pussy. She hoped she would like it. But that was just a theory, wasn’t it? A theory that had never been tested. In the past, when she fantasized about sex with women, she didn’t actually picture this part—or rather, their parts. All this time, it was as if Aly could sense it.

“Are you worried I’d be bad at it?”

“Good sex is about communication,” Aly said. “And it’s also about more than just orgasms. But I mean”—she paused, looking away from Lola—“the idea of someone not knowing what to do with my body is not necessarily a turn-on for me.”

Lola’s face fell. “Oh. Right.”

Aly rushed to correct herself. “But I know you could learn. Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I guess I am freaking out a little.”

Lola swallowed, trying to find the words to reassure Aly without being dishonest. “Obviously this is all very new to me,” she started. “And I appreciate you letting me take it slow. But I can promise you that the way I feel about what we’ve been doing…” She trailed off. “You could probably have an alien living between your legs, and I’d be into it.”

Aly laughed. “It’s not an alien. It’s a vagina. Isn’t that scarier?”

“No,” Lola said. She was continuously surprised by how much reassurance Aly needed, but she was down to give it. “Are you kidding? I have one too.”

“I noticed,” Aly said.

“I really, really want you,” Lola said, growing desperate to build the trust between them. “I want to feel you. I want sex to be mutual. I don’t need it to be all about my body.”

“But I like your body,” Aly said, still deflecting.

“And I like yours,” Lola said, not giving up. “I’d really like the chance to get to know it better, though. Obviously, not if you don’t me to. If that’s not, like, your thing or whatever. But if there is any part of you that does want me to, please know that I am so down.”

Aly sighed.

Lola could tell she was winning.

“If you’re horrified, you have to tell me,” Aly said.

“I promise I won’t be,” Lola said. “But sure, I’ll tell you.”

“Well, in that case,” Aly said. “Go forth.” She tugged off her underwear, leaving her sports bra on.

Lola reached down and touched Aly’s soft mound of pubic hair. Aly moaned, and Lola grinned. This poor girl had gone so many days without release.

She tickled the hair lightly and then gave it a little tug before walking her fingers down, finding the place where Aly was open and swollen. Despite her nervousness, she found Aly’s clit quickly. She wondered how anyone could miss such a thing; all those dudes who claimed to not know where Lola’s was were clearly just not trying very hard. She flicked her fingers across it and then, imagining what she would want, began to rub it vigorously.

Aly immediately bucked, shouting, “OW!”

Lola pulled her hand back as though she’d touched a flame. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. What did I do?”

Aly was laughing nervously, her hands over her face.

“Oh my god,” Lola said again. Panic and embarrassment rushed through her. How had she fucked up so quickly? Should she quit while she was ahead, or would launching herself into the sea suffice as punishment? But no, Aly trusted her with this. She was going to fix it. “Tell me. Tell me what to do.” She pulled Aly’s hands down.

“Okay,” Aly sighed. “I think we need an anatomy lesson.”

“I think you’re right,” Lola said.

They lay side by side. “Okay, so all vaginas are different, right?” Aly said.

Lola giggled.

“I’m serious,” Aly insisted, but she looked like she was trying not to laugh too.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

“So yours has a pretty substantial clitoral hood.”

“It does?”

“Yeah,” Aly said. “Feel it. Like, that piece of skin? It’s like it’s wearing a hoodie. So you like a lot of pressure, because your clit is underneath that skin, unless I were to pull it back while I fuck you, and then it would feel really intense.”

“Huh,” Lola said. She felt around herself. “I didn’t realize that not everyone had that.”

“Well, they do, but again, they’re all different,” Aly said. “As you may or may not have felt, my clit is bigger than yours. And it has less of a hood.”

“Show-off,” Lola said. “Big Clit Energy.”

Aly rolled her eyes and smiled. Lola knew she really needed to stop making jokes, but she could feel the nervous energy bubbling up beneath the surface.

“Did you feel it?” Aly asked.

Lola shook her head. “I really wasn’t on it for very long before I hurt you.”

“Well, that’s because it’s really sensitive. It’s totally exposed.”

“Huh,” Lola said. “I had no idea.”

“I know,” Aly said, a wry smirk on her face. “So how about you just do exactly what I say?”

Lola nodded quickly, obedient, nerves abandoning her as a rush of electricity shot to her core. Hot , she thought. She may not know intuitively how to please Aly, but she was good at following orders. She liked it in fact. A lot.

Aly said, “Don’t touch it directly.” She paused, looking at the ceiling. “With your hands at least.”

“Oh.” Lola’s breath caught as she imagined her tongue on Aly.

Aly laughed, reading her mind. “One thing at a time. I’ll tell you when I want you to go down on me.”

Lola glanced down. Aly’s pubic hair was trimmed into a perfect light brown triangle. Lola reflected on her own situation: a flawless Brazilian wax. She’d never considered how chic having a little bush might be.

Aly pulled Lola in, their mouths colliding. “Okay, that’s enough class for today,” she said. “Now show me what you’ve learned.”

As it turned out, Lola was an excellent student.

She watched Aly’s face as she touched her. Aly’s mouth hung open in unselfconscious ecstasy. She was louder than Lola expected her to be, moaning like they were the last people on earth. With each wild cry, Lola felt more and more turned on. Giving pleasure to a woman was turning out to be as fun as receiving it. She wanted to fuck Aly forever. Her entire body ached with it.

“Go inside me,” Aly begged.

They had not covered this in their lesson, but Lola felt confident she could figure it out. She slipped one finger inside Aly and then, because it felt like Aly wanted her to, another. Aly rocked on her hand, almost whimpering. All this time, Lola had thought she preferred to be submissive, but being in charge of Aly like this was powerful, intoxicating. Unbearably sexy.

“Can you hit my G-spot?” Aly said.

“If you tell me how to find it,” Lola laughed.

“One inch up. Little spongy thing. Feels like corduroy.” It was hard for Aly to talk in full sentences, which told Lola she was doing it right. She found Aly’s G-spot quickly and pressed on it.

When Aly came, she screamed Lola’s name.

It felt like flying.

***

On Thursday, Aly suggested that they go out to dinner. They’d been ordering takeout every day, existing on UberEats leftovers between meals, and Lola was nursing a low-level stomachache she was not ready to discuss.

“Like a date?” Lola grinned.

“Exactly like a date,” Aly confirmed. “We can shower first and everything.”

“I guess I’ll go get ready,” Lola replied. “Will you make a reservation?”

“We don’t need one. Just come back here in an hour.”

“Wonderful,” Lola said, kissing her one last time before returning to Giancarlo’s.

The house was dark and empty. It felt strange to be without Aly after so many days spent attached to each other. It was a little lonely, a little cold. But she knew it was good for them. Nothing killed a new romance like not having space from it.

God forbid we miss each other , she thought, stepping into the shower.

Her skin felt sensitive from Aly’s mouth and hands all over her, and she was gentle as she scrubbed herself, pausing to examine the smattering of hickeys on her stomach. Aly had marked her that afternoon as they’d lain out on large towels in the sun, soaking in the afternoon heat while sprawled in Lola’s backyard. It truly was the perfect summer afternoon—all pink skin and crashing waves and Aly’s mouth again and again.

As Lola stepped out and wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel, she wondered what Aly thought of all this, if Aly had a habit of having sex with her subjects or with girls next door or if this was as new for Aly as it was for her.

She remembered what Ryan had once said, about Aly leaving a path of straight girls in her wake. She wondered anxiously if she was about to be one of them or if perhaps there was something special about her that made this different for Aly. She hoped there was. She couldn’t imagine the alternative. Not now, with her skin humming in anticipation of seeing her again.

She dug a little black dress out of her suitcase and assessed herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were pink; her skin was glowing. She could go without makeup. She felt that there was something very French about wearing a sexy dress with a bare face. She scrunched her hair to encourage its natural waves. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so desirable.

***

The hostess at Si Si shrieked as Aly and Lola walked up.

“Aly Ray Carter, you get your ass over here,” she cried, throwing her arms around Aly’s neck. “You haven’t been to see me once this summer.”

“I’ve been a little busy,” Aly said, glancing at Lola.

The hostess hugged Lola too. “Well, aren’t you gorgeous,” she said, and Lola blushed. “I bet you assumed I’d just have a table for you,” the hostess said to Aly, glancing behind her where the dimly lit restaurant was packed with a growing weekend buzz. People on dates curled toward each other around small tables, slowly sipping martinis, cutting their mains with delicate hands. Larger groups of friends laughed around bottles of wine and seafood towers. Servers with their arms loaded with plates squeezed between tables.

“Do you not?” Aly’s raised eyebrow calling the hostess’s bluff.

“Well, of course I do.” She grinned. “But it’s rude to assume, you know.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Aly said. “Assuming and free tables.”

Aly held Lola’s hand as the hostess took them to a corner table with a view of the bay. Lola was surprised by the easy affection. She hadn’t been sure if Aly would be down with PDA, if she’d be okay with people knowing about their relationship. Or their situationship. Whatever this was.

The restaurant was oozing with charm. Leafy green plants snaked around rattan chandeliers. Just outside the windows, inky-black waves licked the white sand while boats rocked gently against a dock.

“Are you trying to impress me?” Lola asked.

“That depends. Are you impressed?”

“Very.”

Aly grinned at her. The waiter came over before Lola had even opened the menu.

“We’ll do a bottle of Sangiovese,” Aly said. “And we’ll start with a dozen oysters. Whichever ones the chef recommends. Then we’ll split an arugula salad. She’ll have the steak, and I’ll do the fish. Oh, and a basket of bread, please.”

The waiter nodded and left.

Lola was speechless, mouth left open and gaping like the expensive and—if Lola had to guess—delicious fish that Aly just ordered.

Aly looked up at her, noting her surprise.

“Is that not what you wanted?”

“No, I…” Lola paused. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”

Aly shrugged, looking pleased with herself. “I had a feeling.”

“How?”

“I pay attention,” Aly said. “I mean, how many times have we seen each other out to dinner at this point? How many meals have you posted on your Instagram? Which is totally cliché, by the way, but also proves very helpful when, let’s just say, someone like me is agonizing about how to plan the perfect first date with someone like you.” Aly winked her way. “I know what you eat.”

“You insta-stalked me?” Lola asked, her mouth turning up in a dopey expression.

“I’m a journalist , Lola. It’s what I do.”

“You insta-stalked me,” she said again definitively, her heart swelling into her throat.

So Aly had been watching Lola, just as Lola had been watching her. And not only that but she had learned what Lola liked. Aly wanted to take care of her. To show her a nice time. It was startlingly romantic.

“I like your style, Carter,” Lola added.

“I know you do,” Aly replied.

“So tell me about coming here every summer,” Lola said. “That must have been nice.”

“It was nice and also lonely. There’s not a lot for teens to do, and my parents’ friends didn’t have kids my age. I mostly just read books and felt sorry for myself. In hindsight, I was being a total fucking brat.”

“I can see that,” Lola said, fighting a grin. It wasn’t hard to picture.

“How did you spend your summers growing up?”

“We had friends in Malibu,” Lola said. “Which is kind of the Hamptons of LA.”

“I liked Malibu the one time I went. It’s crazy to see dolphins from the beach.”

“My sweet little New Yorker,” Lola replied.

Their wine came, and then the bread. Lola’s stomach grumbled as she buttered a small piece.

“I heard that,” Aly laughed.

“Good thing you got me the steak,” Lola said. She was dizzy with the attention and the food. Eager to gorge herself on all things Aly, learn everything she could about the girl sitting across from her. “Okay, tell me more things. What are your hopes and dreams?” As the words came out of her mouth, she flashed back in time to her first encounter with Justin. This was a question he had asked her as they stood in that art gallery years before, slowly eyeing each other and updating their mental profiles from high school. Lola suddenly felt a pang of unease at how easily his question had slipped from her lips.

That being said, it seemed to work. Aly was smiling at her.

“My hopes and dreams,” she repeated. Their calves brushed under the table. “I mean, sometimes I feel like I’m living my dream. Not many people get to make money on just their writing. Other times, I feel like I should be writing about more serious stuff. Not that I don’t love fashion, but maybe politics or social justice issues. I don’t know. And I do want to write a book. You were right about that.”

Lola nodded, thrilled that Aly was opening up to her like this. “I had a feeling,” she said. “I’m sorry I was so mean about it.”

“It’s okay,” Aly said. “We were taking turns being mean. We can just chalk it up to foreplay.” She reached across the table and held Lola’s hand, a gesture so sweet and surprising Lola had to stop herself from melting. “Anyway, you tell me more things. What are your hopes and dreams?”

Lola swallowed. That was the question, just as it had been when they met for her interview. But she was unsure if she should reveal too much to Aly. She’d tried that once, and look where it had gotten her. How could she possibly articulate her identity crisis to the girl who had jump-started it all? But this Aly sitting across from her was not the same Aly who had interviewed her so many weeks ago. She couldn’t be.

At least she hoped.

“Honestly?” Lola paused. She wanted to tell Aly about her dreams of being a fashion designer. But she couldn’t get the words out. She was worried if she said it out loud, she might jinx herself. Or maybe Aly would turn around and write something mean about her again. No—Lola shook the thought off. She didn’t really think that. Despite everything, she trusted Aly. Now that they’d spent a week in bed, she knew Aly wouldn’t betray her like that again. But she still couldn’t be totally honest with her, not about this. She wasn’t ready. Instead, she said, “I don’t know.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Aly said, looking at her in a way that was so nonjudgmental and supportive, Lola felt warm all over.

After dinner—which Aly paid for—Aly said, “Have you ever walked around the hotel here? It’s really pretty.”

Lola shook her head. “Show me.”

It was pretty. Pink and purple flowers wrapped around the resort, which had a pool overlooking the water and a dock lined with yachts. Their lights reflected golden swirls onto the inky-black water.

Aly pulled Lola’s hand toward the beach, which was empty and dark. “Are we allowed down there?” Lola asked.

“Trust me,” Aly said.

They kicked off their shoes when they reached the sand, which was cold and damp on Lola’s feet. And then, before Lola really knew what was happening, Aly pulled her close and they were kissing. Lola shivered, and Aly held her tighter. They were in total darkness at the edge of the dock. They couldn’t see or hear anyone else.

Which was how Lola justified putting her hand down the front of Aly’s pants, where she found Aly was completely wet.

Aly hiked Lola’s dress up around her thighs.

“How are we going to stay standing up?” Lola asked.

Aly started laughing and pulled Lola to the sand.

***

On Friday morning, Aly announced apologetically that she needed to turn her phone on.

Lola tried not to look over Aly’s shoulder as reams of notifications filled the screen: texts, emails, news alerts, voicemails.

“Popular,” Lola remarked despite herself.

She turned her own phone on. She had three texts in a row from Ryan: Wanna go to the beach? followed by Are you coming home tonight? and finally Going to Emmett’s.

She wrote back Sorry sorry sorry! I’m at Aly’s!

Always a fan of brutal honesty, Ryan’s read receipts immediately flagged that he had seen her text. He didn’t respond.

But that was typical—Ryan was busy. Ryan was summering. Ryan would be fine.

“Sorry, I need to listen to some of these,” Aly said, sitting up and bringing the phone to her ear.

“Totally fine,” Lola said, while a sour, petulant feeling roiled through her. Don’t be so needy , she chastised herself. Just because you don’t have anything going on doesn’t mean she doesn’t . “I’ll go make coffee.”

Aly mouthed thank you before turning away.

By the time Aly joined her downstairs, Lola had made not just coffee but toast and eggs. She’d been singing to herself, trying not to wonder who had left Aly so many messages. Was it other girls, job offers, friends? Why did all of the above leave a small knot in Lola’s chest? It would do no one any good for her to have a jealousy spiral. At least not before 9:00 a.m.

“Sorry about that,” Aly said, perching on the same barstool where she’d once bandaged Lola’s foot. “I totally forgot that I’m supposed to go to Fire Island this weekend. My friends kept calling me to be like, are you alive? And also to tell me I’m in charge of bringing hot dogs.”

“Oh,” Lola said, keeping her tone light. “Fire Island. Hot dogs. That sounds lovely.” She wondered what she’d do while Aly was gone. She should probably try to make some plans with Ryan. The alternative (a house, alone; her hand, alone) was too pathetic.

“So you’ll come? It’s just for two nights. They got a big house in Cherry Grove. I’m supposed to leave later today.”

Lola grinned, unable to hide her delight. “You want me to meet your friends?”

“Of course I do,” Aly said, shaking her head and smiling. “Go pack. We leave at noon.”

***

Ryan was home reading on the sofa when Lola burst through the door.

“What do people wear on Fire Island?” she said instead of hello.

“Tiny little Speedos,” he replied casually, looking up from A Little Life . “Are you going with Aly?”

She nodded. “I have three hours to get ready to meet her best friends.”

He sat up, concerned. “You’re meeting her best friends after less than a week of fucking?”

Lola put her hands on her hips, annoyed at the accusation behind his words. “What’s the issue?”

“Is that not… a little love-bomby?”

Lola was suddenly struck with the fact that she hadn’t dissected Aly’s invitation down to her every inflection. That she hadn’t wanted to. Sure, things may be moving fast. But that was okay; Lola was into it—she wasn’t shame spiraling and sad any longer. She was moving forward. She shook her head. “Do not plant the seeds of paranoia, puh- lease . I’m finally happy.”

He sighed and lay back down. “Sorry. I don’t mean to steal joy. Forget I said anything.”

“Already forgotten,” she sang, floating up the stairs.

And as Lola flung clothes into a weekend bag, she felt a needle of concern. Because she knew Aly liked her, that point had been solidified. But would Aly’s friends be equally impressed by a fallen influencer crashing their little slice of summer paradise?

Or would they be so used to Aly bringing random girls to hang out with them that they wouldn’t even register her presence?