Page 56 of Meet Me at Midnight

“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. Unlikeme, 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 ofEmily 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 inTwilightwhere Edward’s in Italy in that stupid red robe.

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