4. How Long Will We Last?

The moment the house comes into view, my breath hitches in my throat. I’m not the only one who looks totally captivated, though. 

Beside me, Simon curses softly. On my other side, Maria whips out her phone for a photo. Yeah, that must be one amazing shot. I’m sure she is glad she didn’t bail out. She would have regretted it. 

Because the party is on a private island.

Isaac only let us know about that amazing bit like an hour ago. He said like everyone else, he thought the party was going to be at the hotel the band was staying. Only for the manager to reveal at the last minute it’d be offshore.

We are not even there yet–the boat is about to dock, though–but this is already the best party I’ve ever been to. Not that I’ve been to many, but yeah. Seriously, what can beat a private island party with your favourite band?

From out here in the ocean, we can see the lit-up mansion, a few cottages, the palm trees, the party lights set up outside, and people walking around. By the time we get to the dock, we can hear the music and excited voices from partygoers.

We get out of the boat along with several other people and walk down the dock to the beach. A part of me still can’t believe this is happening.

Jude walks up from behind me and rests his arm around my shoulder. I think he is the only person who’s not excited to be here. I’ve never known him not to be excited to be at a party. 

He’s probably been to parties at private islands before, so this is not some new exciting experience for him, but I know that’s not why he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. 

At breakfast, he was debating between being happy for me getting to see my favourite band and being jealous. I think he settled on the latter.

I think it’s ridiculous.

Given all the famous and absolutely gorgeous women he brushes shoulders with on a daily basis whenever he’s working, you’d think I’d be the one who should have a jealousy problem. 

I get to see my favourite band once–just this once, and he somehow thinks I’m going to run off with one of them and have a bunch of kids or something.

It irks me that after all this time, he doesn’t trust my feelings for him. 

We showed our passes before getting on the boat, but a security guard at the end of the dock asks to see them again. Once we get past that, we are officially in.

I can’t help grinning as I look around. There are people everywhere. The doors to the mansion are open, and there are more people inside. The DJ’s deck is outside. There’s also a bar, a few sitting areas, and a barbecue stand.

There’s a splash, and I turn to see a huge swimming pool on the other end of the compound. I look up at Jude to see if any of this has at least helped his mood. He looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

I poke his stomach, my finger bending against hard muscle. “Come on, don’t be a party pooper.”

One corner of his lips turns up. “I never thought I would hear you say that to me, ever.”

Yeah, it looks like tonight, our roles are reversed.

I get on my toes and wrap my hand around his neck, bringing him to meet me halfway. I kiss him on the lips and pull back. He wraps his arms around my back, holding me in place as he seeks my lips again. I lean away. “If you hate it this much, why did you insist on coming?”

At some point in the day, I realised he really didn’t want to come. His mood shifted from mildly annoyed and playfully insecure that I was so excited to see a bunch of boys–his words–to ‘I don’t like it and I can’t even pretend to be happy for you.’

But if I’m being truthful, I know his mood change isn’t just because of me coming to this party. 

It’s also because of what happened earlier, when we had sex. 

Before what happened, I’d imagined we’d spend most of the day lost in each other, only leaving when it was time to go to the party. 

But when he came back an hour later with the pill, I knew we wouldn’t be having that kind of day. 

He told me he had run into Trey and Simon going to the beach and asked if we could join them. He was avoiding my eyes–I supposed it was because he was feeling guilty. 

So down to the beach we went, and that’s where we spent most of the day. I kept an eye out for the woman from earlier, but I didn’t see her. I’m not sure whether I wanted to see her or not.

All I know is Jude didn’t like seeing her, and I think that’s the third reason for his mood change.

All in all, this is not how I imagined our first day back together would go like. We were supposed to be over the moon, lost in ourselves and forgetting everything else. Now, it seems like everything else is the only thing happening.

“I don’t hate it,” he says. “I just would rather be alone with you right now.”

“It’s just a few hours and you’ll have me all to yourself,” I tell him. In fact, it might be less than a few hours. 

I’m not exactly the life of the party, so it’s not like I’m planning on going all night or anything like that. And while I’m looking forward to meeting the band, it’s not like I’m going to hang with them or something. 

I have a feeling I’ll end up freezing when I see them and end up making a fool of myself. Knowing my awkward ass, the likelihood of embarrassing myself is very high. 

This night can go two ways–it can become a fun memory I look back to with a smile, or a horrendous failure I desperately want to scrub from my mind.

Jude sighs heavily and rests his forehead on mine. He closes his eyes. “I know.”

I give him another kiss. His phone starts ringing and I pull back. He releases one arm from around me and takes his phone out of his pocket. We both know who it is–he has had the same ringtone for his sister for seven years.

“Go ahead,” he tells me, gesturing to the house. “I’ll take this and I’ll come find you.”

I nod and he walks away, receiving the call. I look around, wondering where the others disappeared to. 

The bar and the pool seem like the most likely choices, so I head towards the former. I duck around people, some dancing, others standing and chatting. I see Isaac first–his back is to me, but I can tell it’s him alright. He is standing at the bar, talking to someone sitting on a stool at the counter. Ben?

“Isaac?” I call when I get close enough.

He turns around and faces me. “Hey, you made it,” he says, putting one arm around my shoulder and pulling me in for a hug.

“Yeah,” I mumble, my head resting on his shoulder. Only because he is bending down to my height. Otherwise, I’d be smothered against his chest.

And that’s why I see him.

Over Isaac’s shoulder.

The guy sitting on the stool.

It’s not Ben.

Green eyes stare back at me. I stare back, unblinking. It’s not confidence. I’ve frozen. I knew this would happen. Everything disappears from my mind and my heart is beating so hard it's painful.

This is not fair. I wasn’t ready. 

I was supposed to see him from ten yards away. That would have given me enough time to take a few deep breaths, calm my fangirl heart, and gather courage. 

Then, if I ever gathered enough courage before the chance was gone, I would walk up to him and say hi. 

And maybe I would have enough courage left over to tell him how much I love his guitar-playing. And then I would walk away, like a normal person. To look for a hidden corner to freak out at.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Adam Grant–only the sexiest guitarist known to man, no big deal.

Isaac pulls back. “Where are the…” He trails off, and I know it’s because of whatever he can see on my face.

I wrench my eyes away from the forest-green gaze that seems to have bewitched me.

“Oh,” Isaac says. He puts his arm back around my shoulder as he talks to Adam. “This is Jo, my friend. Jo, meet Adam.”

Adam’s eyes widen. “You are the Jo he is always talking about?”

What?

“Always, really?” Isaac counters.

“You used to be his roommate, right?” Adam asks me. 

I nod.

“See? He talks about you enough that I remember that bit.” He smiles. “And your name.” And then he holds out his hand. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

I stare at his hand, as if I’ve suddenly forgotten the basics of handshakes. I didn’t think it’d be this bad. I think I hold my hand out about five seconds late. 

His smile widens as he takes my hand. I think he’s just going to shake it but he lifts it to his lips and kisses my wrist.

“He forgot to mention how pretty you are, though.”

Isaac pulls my hand from his physically. “That’s enough. Since you have such a good memory, I hope you also remember the bit when I said she was taken.”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. Why would Isaac say that? He is not hitting on me or anything.

“Is that true?” Adam asks, looking right at me.

What?

That’s not part of the script. 

When I just look at him, he gestures to the bartender. “Can I get you a drink?”

He wants to get me a drink?

“No thanks,” Jude says. “She’s good.”

Jude.

I look up just as he wraps his arm around my waist. Isaac lets go of me and leans back against the counter, cocking his brow at Adam.

Jude and Adam stare at each other. 

Adam’s eyes twinkle, as if Jude’s appearance just made this so much more interesting. He nods. “Okay.”

Isaac clears his throat. “This is my best friend, Jude,” he says to Adam.

Before Adam can say anything, Jude whirls me around, takes my hand, and pulls me away from the bar. He marches his way to the far end of the compound, away from the crowd.

“That was rude!” I comment, finally being able to dig my feet into the grass and bring us to a stop.

He lets go of my hand and turns on me. “Oh? Do you want to go back and keep drooling at him?”

I frown. “I was not…maybe I was a little starstruck…”

He scoffs. “A little? You looked like you were ready to drop to your knees at the crook of his finger.”

His words spear into my chest like a sharp knife. “What?” I whisper.

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Forget I said that.”

Yeah. “Fuck you,” I tell him, turning around and walking away. I don’t know where I’m going, but it’s in the opposite direction of the crowd.

His hand grips around my wrist as he comes after me. “I’m sorry.”

I pull my hand from his grip and keep going. “Leave me alone.”

“Jo, please–”

I whirl around on him. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but don’t take it out on me.”

Regret is all over his face. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I say, changing course and going back towards the house.

I don’t look back to see if he is following. I find the bathroom on the ground floor, and thankfully, it’s empty. I shut the door and go to the counter.

It was a long-winded sentence, but it wouldn't have made a difference if he’d outright called me a slut. 

I shut my eyes, feeling the wetness between my lashes.

I thought nothing could ruin today.

It’s only our first day, and we’ve already had our first fight.

I wonder how long we’ll last this time.