19
Piper
I wore the skirt.
He’d asked, and it was his birthday. It was silly but putting the skirt on, knowing he’d like it, made me feel pretty. God, I was just like every other girl. Doing stupid stuff for a stupid guy.
I didn’t want to admit that maybe…just maybe…I was starting to like Hollin. We still fought like cats and dogs. But I was going to see him tonight, and my heart was skipping a staccato in my chest. I’d checked and double-checked my outfit. I’d put on my makeup meticulously.
Why? Why was I like this? Why him?
He was going to hurt me. Break my little frozen heart into shards. It should have been enough to keep me away from him. To reinforce the wall between us and never deal with what was inevitable. Yet the wall was crumbling. And I didn’t know how to deal with this new me. The one that said maybe I should give him a chance to prove me wrong. Instead of assuming he’d hurt me.
Blaire, Jennifer, and I arrived at Wright Vineyard for the party. Already, the parking lot was packed full.
“Did Hollin invite everyone in the town?” I asked.
Jennifer shook her head. “That would be Julian.”
“He was in charge of the party?”
“He’s ridiculous. He doesn’t think it’s a party unless it’s over the top.”
Blaire shrugged. “Isn’t he right?”
“I’d kill him if he threw me a party like this,” Jen said.
I laughed. “He knows you better than that.”
“Anyway, this is very Hollin,” Blaire said. “He’s larger than life, and everyone knows him.”
It was Hollin. I hadn’t put it together that it was going to be a birthday party for two hundred. Rather than just the lot of us.
Zach met us at the door. He was a giant of a man, who acted as security for most Wright events. He and Hollin rode motorcycles together. He wasn’t exactly chatty.
He waved us inside. Nora must have had a hand in this because it wasn’t the standard Wright Vineyard affair. Couches had been hauled in to fill the barn space. High-top tables littered the perimeter. There were actual disposable cameras on each of the tables and a few on the bar. That seemed dangerous when people got drunk. A massive blue, green, and white balloon arch with a gold number 30 in the center was in front of the stage. A few girls in dizzyingly small miniskirts were snapping Instagram pictures posed before it.
“This is…elaborate,” I said.
“That’s what happens when the birthday boy’s sister is an event planner,” Nora said, appearing out of the crowd. She drew each of us into a hug. “Do you like it?”
“It’s incredible,” Blaire said.
“The disposable cameras?” Jennifer asked with a wince. “That sounds like a recipe for disaster.”
“It was Hollin’s idea,” she admitted. “I’ll have someone wade through the number of dick and tit pics we’ll get by the end of the night.”
We all laughed because it was inevitable with this many drunk people in one room. I followed Nora through the crowd. Julian and Jordan were sprawled out on the couches. Annie leaned into Jordan with her diamond engagement ring glittering and on display. August was crushed in next to Tamara, hip to hip, with a space on his other side that Nora must have occupied before she got up to say hi to us. My gaze went to where the birthday boy was seated on a couch, regaling the crowd with some grand story about him and Campbell in LA.
His eyes snagged on me when I came into view. He stumbled on his story, missing his next cue as his eyes raked down my body. Apparently, all that care of getting ready had paid off.
He cleared his throat. “Where was I?”
Julian rolled his eyes. “Something about Campbell getting mobbed.”
“Right. We couldn’t get through, and I ended up shoving a paparazzi guy out of the way. He landed in the crowd, and we ran away as fast as we could. We barely made it upstairs into his hotel. It was a madhouse.”
“Wild,” Tamara said, fluttering her long eyelashes at him.
Nora groaned. “Are you telling that mob story again? Campbell should have known better.”
“He knows better now,” Hollin said.
Jennifer creeped in front of Hollin and settled into Julian’s lap. “Hey.”
Julian pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Blaire nodded toward the bar. “Drinks?”
“Definitely,” I said.
Hollin hopped up out of his seat and followed us to the bar. “Hey, glad y’all made it.”
Blaire gave him a knowing look. “Both of us?”
I jabbed my elbow into her ribs. She laughed and waved at the bartender for the night.
Hollin grinned. “Of course.” His eyes swept down my body again. “You look nice.”
“Thank you.”
“I like your skirt.”
I glanced up at him, softening at the words. He’d just complimented me. Not been a total idiot, like normal.
“You look good, too. That looks like the shirt I borrowed,” I said, running my hand along the collar.
His smile widened. “I never got that one back from you. What did you do with it?”
“It’s somewhere in my room,” I said dismissively. “Do you want it back?”
He leaned his elbow on the bar. “Not if you want to keep it.”
I flushed at the words. They hadn’t even been dirty or antagonizing or anything, and somehow, they still made me flush. “What would I do with a shirt that’s three times too big?”
“You tell me.”
Blaire covered her mouth to keep from laughing. She slid me a Bombay and lime. “Here you go.”
“Hey, add these to my tab,” Hollin said to the bartender.
“Sure thing, man,” the guy said.
“You’re the birthday boy,” Blaire protested. “Aren’t we supposed to buy you drinks?”
“Please, the Wrights are covering my tab.”
I laughed. “Of course.”
Blaire winked at me. “Have a good time.”
Then, she disappeared back to our friends.
“Well, she’s subtle, isn’t she?” I said, taking a sip of my drink.
“She knows about us?”
“Don’t your friends know what happened?”
“I told Julian. He thinks you’re out of my league.” Hollin rubbed the back of his head. “He’s probably right.”
I was stunned by the comment. That he’d even admit that. He wasn’t self-deprecating. Normally, he was pure arrogance.
“That’s not the Hollin I’m used to fencing with. I thought the sun shone out of your ass or whatever.”
He grinned. “I mean, obviously, it does. I’m awesome.”
I snorted. “There you are.”
“I’m glad you made it, Piper.”
I took another drink of my gin. “Me too.”
We returned to the rest of the party. Everyone was carefully trying not to notice that we’d had an entire conversation without arguing. Or that Hollin kept looking at me as if he might eat me for dinner. And yet he hadn’t made any of the crude remarks I’d anticipated. I’d anticipated at least one birthday-sex reference, but nothing. Not one sexual reference directed to me, not one push to get under my skin, not a single button pressed. I didn’t know what to make of it.