The Last House Guest(60)

“Nothing.” Because it was nothing. With Luce in town, with Sadie here, that moment with Parker could never happen.

Maybe that was my mistake. Maybe all I needed to say to Sadie about Connor was Don’t. But who could say that to her?

To be Sadie Loman was to do exactly what you wanted. If it had been Sadie who had pushed Faith, watched as she fell to the ground, her arm held out awkwardly to break the impact—all would be forgiven. If I had been the one to steal money from the Loman company, I would’ve been kicked out of their world immediately. But not her. She was just given a different job. A better one. And what had happened to the money? Who knew. She’d probably spent it.

She took what she wanted and did what she wanted—they all did. Parker, Grant, Bianca, Sadie. Living up at the Breakers, looking out over everything. Deciding what would be theirs for the taking.

The crowd moved on around me, a blur of faces, sweat and heat, the prickle on the back of my neck—this feeling that I had to get out of here. But I had no idea where to go.

How long had I been standing perfectly still, watching the lives of others play out around me? Leaning against a wall, drinking what was left of the Lomans’ whiskey?

The Lomans’ house, the Lomans’ rules, the Lomans’ world.

Like sitting in Connor’s boat, watching from the outside in. No matter how close I got, I was always the one watching.

There was Parker, whispering into Luce’s ear, crouched beside her while she sat in a low chair near the edge of the pool. Her gaze fixed somewhere in the distance.

There were Ellie Arnold and her friends sitting on the floor together in the corner of the den, cross-legged, like a memory of a time long past—girls at a sleepover like Faith and I used to have, the rest of the world fallen away.

It took me a moment to realize one of the girls in the group was passed out, her head tipped back against the wall, and that her friends had remained with her, here. A large salad bowl rested beside her, and I realized it was in case she vomited. Ellie placed a wet washcloth on the girl’s forehead, and I looked away.

There was Greg Randolph sitting on the couch, his arm behind a girl who appeared to be on the cusp of eighteen, her gaze turned up to his, like he was everything worth knowing.

And there was Connor crossing the room, heading for the door, his phone out in his hand.

“Connor,” I called before I could think better of it. When he turned, I saw him as Sadie might, without the layers and years that had come between us. I saw him as a girl looking out over the balcony of Harbor Club, watching a man step off his boat, self-assured and perfectly himself. A man who would act exactly the same whether someone was watching or not. The rarest thing.

He didn’t care who Sadie was, who any of them were. He was someone, she knew, who once was mine. The only thing left here that still belonged to me, and me alone. And I knew she had to have him.

I pushed off from the wall, met him in the foyer. “Don’t go yet,” I said.

His head tipped to the side, but he didn’t say no. For all our history, I knew his weakness as well as he knew mine. Connor believed in a linear life. He’d known what he would do from the time he was a kid: He would finish school, he would work summers for his dad and for any fisherman looking for a second deckhand. He would fall in love with a girl he’d known his entire life, and she with him, just as his parents had done before.

He was unprepared when his life veered off track.

I smiled as I had once before, when he tipped me backward at the bonfire, kissed me in front of our friends—his mouth, a grin.

I knew, same as he did then: Things like this required a bold move. Me, in a crowd of people—in front of Parker Loman and everyone in their world—whispering in his ear, asking him to follow me down the hall.

My hand trailed down his arm until my fingers linked with his, and he did not resist. I walked slowly, in case anyone wanted to see. In case Greg Randolph would turn from the couch, raise an eyebrow, say, That’s the guy I saw Sadie with. But no one did, and I didn’t even care. I was high on the knowledge that he wanted me still, even after all this time.

It was dark in the downstairs bedroom, and I turned the lock. Didn’t say anything, for fear it might break the trance.

I pulled his face down to mine, but the feel of his kiss was still a surprise. I could taste the liquor on him. Feel the looseness of his limbs as I pushed his shirt over his head. The malleable quality of him, where I could slide myself into his life. The power I held—that I could alter the course of everything to follow.

But he was the one who guided me toward the bed. Who whispered in my ear—hi—like he’d been waiting all this time just to say it.

In the dark, I wasn’t sure whether he was imagining me or Sadie, but it didn’t matter. His fingers just below my hips, brushing over a tattoo he couldn’t see.

Nothing lasts forever. Everything is temporary. You and me and this.

Connor was no longer the Connor I knew—and neither was I. Six years had passed, and we had become something new. Six years of new experiences, life lived and learned. Six years to sharpen into the person you would become. But there were shadows of the person I knew: In the arm around my waist, holding me to him. And his fingers faintly drumming against my skin after, before his hand went still.

Neither of us spoke then. We lay there, side my side, until a noise from out in the hall jarred us both. A hand at the locked doorknob. I bolted upright.