“Mom, next time, can you leave the onions off the steak?” Avery says, pointedly sliding the grilled onions off her filet with a look of disgust on her face. “Stank breath isn’t something I want to be known for.”
“Where do you have to go tonight anyway, princess?” Neil asks from the head of the table. “I thought you and June were choosing a quiet night in with us?”
“Neil,” Avery says with a roll of her eyes. “You clearly don’t understand the inner workings of Miami nightlife.”
He flashes a smile at Diane before turning back to Avery. “Please enlighten me.”
“First of all,” Avery explains, “it’s eight. Unless we want to grab an early-bird dinner at The Crazy Crab, shit doesn’t start popping off until at least eleven.”
Neil looks over at me, and I shrug. “Don’t look at me. I don’t make the plans. I just get forced to go along with them.”
He chuckles, and Avery snaps her fingers at me aggressively. “Right. And don’t even think of begging off tonight because I’m done with your shit. It’s a Saturday. You don’t have work tomorrow. You’re coming.”
“Avery,” Diane chides, but my middle finger and stuck-out tongue are enough to keep the levity.
“So, what are you saying, Avery?” Neil teases. “Your quiet night in with your loving parents isn’t really the main event? What’s our cutoff time?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Avery replies, taking a sip of white wine. “But it’s not anything you should concern your pretty little head with, Daddy. You’ll already be in bed.”
“Avery, honey, onions are good for your skin,” Diane insists, pantomiming the nutrients by taking a bite herself.
Avery’s face pinches in confusion at her mom’s late reply, but Diane nods as though we weren’t just having an entirely different conversation two seconds ago.
“They are. Fredrick told me they’re high in antioxidants and vitamins that combat aging.”
“Who is Fredrick?” Neil asks, and I smother a smile, knowing just how good this is going to get. Neil is the ultimate hype man for his wife, daughter, and me, but that’s mostly because he’s never seen the receipts. It’s very military: don’t ask, don’t tell.
“Oh my God, Daddy!” Avery exclaims, laughing at him uproariously. “Mom’s been getting facials from Fredrick for years.”
“Oh, honey, not just facials. Fredrick does my Botox too,” Diane adds, and Neil just sighs.
“Good grief,” Neil mutters. “It’s a wonder we have any money at all.”
“You should be thanking her, Daddy,” Avery counters. “I can guarantee Botox with Fredrick is cheaper than with Dr. Franks, which is who I go to.”
“Well, thank everything for that,” Neil says through an amused laugh. “Wouldn’t want to get hosed on Botox for my daughter and my wife.”
Avery and Diane dive into a conversation about some of the other services Fredrick’s spa now offers, and I go back to eating my steak that Chef Stone cooked to perfection before leaving us to our dinner.
I’m not thrilled to be going out with Avery tonight, but I don’t think it’s a terrible idea either. Things with Beau and me really got out of hand a couple nights ago, and then it kind of— definitely —continued in that same dirty, orgasmic fashion ever since. If I sat at home tonight, there’s no doubt I’d end back in the Midnight app at some point.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea of that, but freaking hell, things are really starting to get complicated.
“Really, Avery,” Diane comments around a bite of steak. “A weekly HydraFacial, I’m telling you, will revolutionize your life. You may not even need to keep up with the Botox for now and can just start back up in a couple of years.”
I suck my lips into my mouth as steam builds in Neil’s brain. His eyes ping-pong back and forth as Diane and Avery continue. My phone vibrates in my pocket just as I’m about to get dragged into their planning, so I pull it out and focus on it in my lap.
Anything to save myself from a conversation about filler.
There’s a text message from my mom about her next stop in Thailand, and then an extensive list of social media notifications, but at the bottom of them all, a Midnight chat notice taunts me.
Not only is Beau in the chat, but he just sent a message too, and I’m sitting at a table with his sister, mom, and dad, for Pete’s sake. I can’t open this right now, no matter how badly I want to.
Panic damn near seizes my throat, and a small piece of steak gets lodged. I have to cough my way through the trauma until it starts to slide down with hearty sips of water.
Neil and Diane both jump up to help, and Avery passes me her glass of water across the table. For as close to actually dying as I am, I still expend an awful lot of energy to make sure no one can see my phone from behind, flipping it over and tucking it under my leg on the chair.
I raise a hand over my shoulder to Neil as he rubs my upper back and nod at Diane as she hovers in front of my face.
“Eat much, June?” Avery teases, now that it seems like I’m going to survive.
“Just went down the wrong pipe.” My voice is hoarse from coughing, my eyes are wet with unshed tears, but I’ll be damned if I end up with Neil trying to give me the Heimlich. “I’m fine.”
They eye me closely for a long moment, but after another wave and a thumbs-up, the two of them slowly retake their seats.
I know I shouldn’t. Goodness, I know I shouldn’t. But I can’t stop myself from taking a quick peek in the Midnight app.
ThunderStruck: Big Saturday night plans?
A small smirk lifts just the corner of my lips as I think about the truth. Beau himself would be here with me if he hadn’t gone out for his buddy Maverick’s birthday, but because I’m still a secret, in his mind, I could be anywhere. I don’t want to taunt him exactly, but I’ve never felt this powerful before—our dynamics haven’t allowed it.
ElizaBeth: Oh, you know, just having a wild night on the town. What about you?
ThunderStruck: I’m at a bar in South Beach. So…if you’re out…maybe you should consider coming to say hi.
Ah, how easy that would be if I weren’t who I am. As it is, I have so many lies going, I’m considering changing my name to Charlotte and spinning a web.
ElizaBeth: I’d love to, but I can’t get out of my current plans.
You know, just having dinner with your freaking parents and sister. No big deal.
ThunderStruck: That sounds ominous. Is there a man involved in these plans?
I look across the table at Neil. Oh yeah—your dad, in fact. I’d probably laugh if it didn’t feel like such a clusterfuck waiting to explode all over the place.
ElizaBeth: And if there was a man…would you be jealous?
ThunderStruck: That depends.
ElizaBeth: On what?
ThunderStruck: On whether or not you talk to him like you talked to me last night.
My cheeks heat as memories assault me, and I glance up at my dinner companions. They’re all occupied, thank God, but thinking of orgasming at Beau’s figurative hand while they sit five feet away causes anxiety overload. I have to wonder if, at some point, Beau and I were real and not a secret, would I eventually get over how awkward it would feel for my second family to know that we did intimate things?
For my sanity, I don’t let myself go there. I have a million hurdles to jump over before that’s even a remotely viable possibility, and quite frankly, I don’t know if I’ve got the vertical lift to handle it.
ElizaBeth: Definitely not.
ThunderStruck: Good.
ElizaBeth: And what about you?
ThunderStruck: What about me?
ElizaBeth: Are you talking to any girls in South Beach like you did me last night?
ThunderStruck: Fuck no.
Not just no, but fuck no . A surge of confidence washes over me, so much so, I consider getting flirty again.
ElizaBeth: Good. I want you to—
“Who are you texting?” Avery questions, snapping my attention up from my half-typed message.
“N-no one,” I stutter, fumbling to close out of the Midnight app as I do.
“You sure?” She quirks a skeptical brow. “Because if you’re, like, making plans to go out tonight with someone else, you best be explaining. Ain’t no way I’m going to spend my entire Saturday night with Neil and Diane. I have my calendar blocked off for you.”
“You do realize we’re both sitting here, right?” Neil questions, and Avery just rolls her eyes.
“Of course I do, Daddy.”
He laughs at that.
“I’m not making plans,” I explain in a rush. “I was just texting my mom.”
“Okay, well, when you’re done with that,” she says, taking another sip of wine, “figure out what club you want to go to. David has VIP at TauTau, but I can’t stop thinking about Echo.” She shrugs. “I’m sure we can get VIP there too, even if it’s new.”
“David?” I question. “What happened to Seb?”
“Ugh,” she groans. “Don’t even get me started on that guy.”
“Who is Seb?” Neil asks, looking between the two of us.
“He’s a guy Avery went on a date with last week,” I state, more than happy to throw my best friend under the bus to keep the topic of conversation far away from the person I was messaging with just a minute ago.
“You went on a date, honey?” Diane questions, a hint of excitement in her eyes.
“That guy is so boring that I swear, it would’ve been more fun to eat my new pair of Louboutins than go out with him,” Avery states, flashing a glare at me as she does. “So, how about we change the subject before I have to strangle Juniper for even bringing it up?” she says. “I just got these acrylics yesterday.”
“One day, honey, I hope you find a man who actually keeps your interest,” Diane says, and Neil’s chuckles are so loud they basically come from his toes.
“Diane, I think we need to invest our hope in Avery finding a man who can put up with her, not the other way around.”
“Daddy, you know I’m a total catch,” Avery retorts.
“Of course I do, princess,” Neil says, warmth in his voice. “Catch of the century. Just need a man with an AMEX Black Card and a trust fund to reel you in.”
“See? You get me,” she says to Neil, pointing an approving index finger at him. “I deserve only the best.”
“Exactly, princess,” Neil agrees. “Both you and Juniper deserve the best. Which is why if you ever bring some schmuck home who doesn’t meet that, you can bet your ass I’ll be showing him straight to the door.”
“I can’t wait for the day I get to see both of my girls get married,” Diane muses, her voice all soft and dreamy as her eyes look far off in the distance. It’s like she’s imagining our actual weddings.
But I guarantee the man I picture waiting for me at the altar doesn’t come close to what’s in her vision. And I sure as hell know that man wouldn’t be in Avery’s mind either.
How could it be, though? I’ve kept my secret crush on Beau from everyone for years, thinking nothing would ever come of it.
And now look at me.
The time is nearing eleven, and Avery is upstairs in her bedroom getting ready to go out. Sure, she doesn’t live here anymore, but she refused to pack when she moved out. She just bought dupes of everything for our condo so she could leave a full set of her belongings here. It only takes me half the time to prep and fluff, so to keep myself occupied instead of sitting around and checking for messages from ThunderStruck—of which there are none—I’ve decided to grab my paddleboard and oar from the Bankses’ garage and head down the sand-covered path that leads to the beach.
After we finished dinner, Neil sat down in his favorite chair to read his newspaper, and both Avery and I cuddled up on the sectional in the living room to kill some time before, in her words, “things get going.”
Diane hand-served us the strawberry cheesecake that Chef Stone made before leaving their house, and Avery ate it while she whined about how she’ll probably have to spend all day tomorrow in the gym in our condo building to work it off. Unlike me, she actually does work out from time to time. Though, I don’t how she fits it into her vigorous social schedule.
By episode three of Emily in Paris , Diane and Neil called it a night and went to bed, and Avery went up to start getting ready. I threw on an old swimsuit to come out here.
I put on my headlamp and grab my board from its spot in the sand and head straight for the water. Most people would hate the idea of getting in the water this late at night, but it’s something I’ve done a thousand times over the years. Truthfully, it’s something I started doing with Beau when I was sixteen and is a welcome distraction now from the incessant thoughts of what Beau is doing at whatever bars in South Beach he and his buddies are enjoying.
Maverick, whose birthday they’re celebrating, is pretty wild. At one of a few college parties Avery and I attended as high school girls while Beau was at the University of Miami, I witnessed Maverick Catalano do five keg stands in a row before he ended the night by streaking through their apartment complex with his twig and berries clutched in one of his giant hands. His ass is the first male butt I saw live and in person.
Between Beau, Henry, Ronnie, and Maverick, at least one of them is always getting into something. Any time Avery and I have run into them at the clubs, they’re always enjoying a VIP section with a buffet of pretty girls and booze surrounding them.
Beau always tended to be tamer than his buddies, but that was when he was with Bethany. Now, he’s single and he can do anything he wants. Talk to any attractive girl he wants. Take any girl he wants home.
Ugh. Stop it.
I try to remind myself of the messages he sent me earlier this evening. Try to tell myself that he’s more interested in talking to me on Midnight than some random girl he meets in a bar. But that thought isn’t all that reassuring when I face the reality of it.
He doesn’t know Mystery Woman is me, and so far, all I’ve really done is string him along.
The moon is bright in the sky, and only a few clouds float around it. All in all, it’s a pretty clear night by Southern Florida standards, and the water is calm as I move deeper into it so I can hop on my board.
It’s a little chilly, but more exhilarating than anything else. I let my headlamp guide me, ignoring the eerie feeling that always comes with being in the water at night.
Once I’m on my board, I slowly stroke my oar through the water, carefully keeping an eye on the current as I do. The last thing I need is to drift out to sea. Though, with the mindfuck of a situation I’ve found myself in because of Midnight and my never-ending, secret crush on Beau, I can’t deny there’s a part of me that wonders if it would be kind of nice to go MIA.
The water is fairly calm, only a few ripples of waves to be seen, and I find a good but easy rhythm as I move along the coast. I stay far enough away from the sandbar that my board doesn’t hit the bottom and send me catapulting into the water, but close enough to the coast to feel safe for being out here by myself at night.
There is always something so serene about being in the ocean at night. There are no sounds of other people, only the white noise of the water filling my ears. It’s calming. Relaxing.
And completely at odds with what’s going on inside me.
“Hey!”
I furrow my brow, looking around for the faint voice I swore I just heard.
“Juniper June!”
A dark, shadowy figure stands at the Bankses’ private beach gate, one hand waving while the other holds a board much like my own. He looks like Beau and sounds like Beau, but the Beau I know is supposed to be in South Beach with his pals, boozing and batting away women.
Surely he’s a mirage. Surely I’ve just been thinking of him so much—too much—that it’s like my mind is starting to hallucinate him.
“Stay right there!” Beau calls toward me again through cupped hands. “I’m coming to you!”
I stare in disbelief as he jogs to the water in a pair of black swim trunks, the muscles of his bare chest glistening in the moonlight like that one scene in Twilight where Edward’s in Italy in that stupid red robe.
I look down at my board when my equilibrium threatens to pitch me to the side and then back up to watch as Beau paddles out toward me at a seemingly freakish speed.
Holy shit, he’s really here.
I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am. Beau Banks isn’t the same old Beau Banks anymore, and I have the memories of his risqué photos to prove it.
So much has happened between us in those Midnight chats, and while he doesn’t have a freaking clue, I’ve already found the wrench in the library and am interrogating Colonel Mustard. I know everything he’s said and all of the sexy pictures he’s sent, and I know how much deeper my feelings have grown.
There’s an irrational part of me that wants to paddle as hard and as fast as I can in the opposite direction of him, but the smitten part—the one I’ve been smothering with a pillow for years—would never allow it.
So, I stand here instead, using my oar to stay balanced on my board, waiting to either expire from an exploding heart or Beau, whichever gets here first.
“Nice night,” he says when he closes the distance between us. “Though, I’m not that thrilled that you’re out here by yourself.”
“It’s fine, Beau.”
He frowns at me, pausing his board so we’re nearly side by side. “Still stubborn as hell, huh, Juniper June?”
Juniper June . A nickname that makes me feel more child than adult, but one I love all the same. There’s so much wrapped up in our history together, I don’t know where to find the end of the string.
“Not stubborn,” I retort easily, maneuvering forward slowly. “Just not a little teenage girl anymore and well-versed in the dangers of night paddling.”
“I know you’re not a kid anymore, Juni.” Beau’s lips quirk up into an unexpected smile. “Trust me, I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you.” He jerks his chin toward my feet. “By the way, I can’t believe you still have that board.”
I smile. He gave me this board when I turned sixteen, and I’ve been using it ever since. It could be split in half, and I’d find a way to glue it back together.
“It’s a good board.”
“Oh, I know it is,” Beau says through a laugh. “That’s why I gave it to you.”
And that’s why I kept it.
“Avery didn’t drag you out tonight?” he asks, and I laugh at that.
“Oh, we’re going. I had to leave a blood deposit and a sworn oath and testament that I wouldn’t back out. But things, evidently, don’t pop off until around this time, so she’s upstairs getting ready.”
Beau’s chocolate eyes are warm and gooey with amusement. “And you didn’t need to get ready?”
“It won’t take me long.” I shrug. “I’m not really in the mood to get attention anyway.”
He snorts. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
“What?”
“You don’t need makeup to be beautiful, Juni. You know that.”
Beautiful? He thinks I’m beautiful? My heart pounds like it’s auditioning for one of those Fast & Furious movies. There’s no way I can acknowledge the compliment. Not now. I’ll spill all my guts if I do.
“I…uh…” I pause and lick at my now-dry lips. “I thought you were going out for Mav’s birthday tonight? What are you doing here?”
“Figured I’d grab some leftovers from dinner on my way home,” he says, an adorable smile on his lips. “Mav wanted to take a detour from South Beach to some new club that opened up downtown. I wasn’t really in the mood, so I called it an early night. When I found the house basically deserted, I decided to take a quick paddle.”
“Let me guess… Echo ,” I say with a knowing smile. “It’s all Avery’s been talking about for the past two days.”
“It’s very exclusive , according to Henry, whatever that means.” Beau shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair before meeting my eyes again. “I know Avery’s going to be waiting on you soon, but do you want to go down the coast a little bit?”
“Sure.” I let him guide us, giving him room to go in front of me, but the entire time, my eyes are locked on him. I watch the way his muscular arms move as they slice the oar through the water. I take in the way the soft light of the moon bounces off his hair and skin. I admire how good his broad shoulders look. And I definitely admire how firm his ass looks beneath his swim trunks.
Beau Banks, the man of my dreams.
At one point in my life, I thought I’d eventually get over him. But now, after everything that’s gone down, my heart only feels more certain. More…in love.
Because that’s the reality. This isn’t just a crush anymore.
I’m in love with Beau Banks, and he doesn’t have a fucking clue.