When he drops me to my feet, I don’t let go. The last time I saw him, I didn’t hug him like I should have.

“I thought you were supposed to be here alone,” he says.

Shit, I think, glancing back at Aiden and Peyton. This is going to be hard to explain.

“I was but they showed up at the plane and—wait, how did you get here? Do people know you’re here? What if you were followed?”

“Calm down, Keats. I flew from Tokyo to L.A. Went to my dad’s. Even went to the Undertow and offered to play for them tomorrow night, knowing I wouldn’t show up. Then I snuck over to your house and got your board. Glad no one’s changed the garage code. Dad’s assistant picked me up at the pier, drove me around in circles, and then to the airport where I hitched a ride with a company exec to North Carolina. In North Carolina, I had another plane waiting to bring me here. No one knows I’m here but B and Dad’s assistant. Even my family thinks I’m home sleeping off jet lag.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too. Now for what’s important. Tell me that incredible creature sitting on my deck is real and not an amazing jet-lag-induced mirage.”

“She’s real, Damian, but you can’t.”

“Oh, but I can. She has the most perfect lips.”

“Ohmigawd, no. Don’t look at her mouth. Don’t even look at her. And don’t talk to her at all.”

“I’m not going to be rude to your friends.”

“Don't you dare fall for her. You can’t.”

“Too late. She just smiled at me. I'm in love.”

“Damian. No.”

“Don’t tell me no. Be nice. I went through a lot to get here so that you wouldn’t be alone for the holiday. But, happily, you are not. And you even brought me a treat.”

“She is not your treat, but I suppose I’m going to have to have to introduce you.”

“Hell, yeah, you have to. I need to be introduced to my future wife.”

I laugh at him and start to walk back, when Damian grabs my arm and says, “You forgetting something?”

“Oh my gosh! Yes, I am!” I walk back to him with a grin. I love this boy. Ever since the first time I came here when I was nine, he's given me a piggyback ride up to the house.

He drops my board in the sand as I jump onto his back and hang on tight.

He does his normal crazy gallop up to the house, trying to get me to fall, and then deposits me on the deck in front of Aiden and Peyton.

“So, this is my friend, Damian. He brought my surfboard,” I say awkwardly, because I haven’t had the chance to figure out exactly what to say. At school, no one can contradict my lies. Damian and I need to get our stories straight.

“Damian, this is Aiden,” I say as the boys shake hands. “And his sister, Peyton.”

Damian stares into her green eyes with an intensity I’ve never seen.

“Hi,” she says, her voice cracking.

“It looks like I need a drink.” He barely gets the words out of his mouth when Sven sets Damian’s favorite pineapple rum drink in front of him. “It’s good to be back home,” Damian says.

“Home? As in, this is your home?” Aiden asks incredulously.

Damian nods.

“Where have you been?” Peyton asks him excitedly.

“Just traveling around,” Damian answers cryptically. Does he not want Peyton to know he’s in a band or is he worried about our cover story?

“Well, that’s very specific,” Aiden says in a condescending tone.

I look at Aiden. He’s not relaxed anymore. His body is stiff and he’s squeezing the life out of the napkin that was under his drink. Does he not like Damian? Is he mad that I gave him a big kiss on the cheek?

Damian glances at me, giving me his that-guy’s-a-dick look.

“Tell them where you’ve been, Damian,” I say, trying to ease the uncomfortable tension.

“Well, I recently had the pleasure of surfing all over the coast of Japan.”

Aiden smashes his teeth together and pushes himself away from the table with so much force our drinks slosh all over. “Excuse me,” he says and walks away.

Peyton looks at her brother with confusion as Damian says, “What’s his problem?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” I get up and go after him.

He’s marching quickly down the path Damian just walked up.

“Aiden, wait,” I say, running behind him. When he turns around to face me, there’s fire in his eyes.

“You seriously brought me on vacation to his house?”

“Um, yeah. He’s a nice guy, Aiden. You should get to know him.” I stare at him, not understanding why he’s so pissed. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Is that the real reason you told us not to come? Because he decided to?”

“What? No! I didn’t know he was coming, in case you couldn’t tell by my happy screams of surprise.”

“Of course. You’re his Keats. He brings your surfboard and you forget all about me and the dirt.”

“I haven’t forgotten about you or the dirt—oh, wait! He’s not the Keats guy.”

“Bullshit!” Damian yells out from behind us.

“Shut up,” I yell back.

“Don’t let her give you any bullshit stories, man. I’ve always been the Keats guy.”

I grab Aiden’s arm and march him back to the deck, saying to Damian, “Yes, you gave me the nickname, Keats. But I think he thinks you’re B.”

“Oh . . .” Damian says, finally getting it. He turns to Aiden. “Is that why you were being such a dick?” Aiden doesn’t reply, so Damian stands up, pulls me close to him, and laughs. “I may not be that Keats guy, but I was the first guy to kiss her. When she was twelve. You can be jealous of that, if you want.”

“But that’s it,” I quickly state.

“Yeah,” Damian says, faking sadness and shaking his head in sorrow. “I was always her frog.”

I smile at Damian. He’s being adorable and Aiden has already unrolled his fists.

“She hates this,” Damian says, then he licks his tongue up the entire side of my face and goes, “Ribbit!”

I playfully smack him, so he falls back into his chair.

I decide to tell them the story of how I know Damian. That way Damian and I will be on the same page. “I’ve known Damian since I was little. We went to school together and after my dad died, my mom wasn’t coping very well, so the Morans invited us to come stay with them.”

“Back then, it was nothing like what it is today,” Damian adds.

“What was it like?” Peyton asks, batting her eyelashes at him.

“When Dad bought the property, it was a small resort. Six separate beach shacks, which eventually became pieces of the house you see today. The turret was originally on the neighboring property, but Keatyn and I were obsessed with it, so Dad bought it too. It was all that remained of a really old castle—which was home to either a Danish governor or pirates, depending on who tells the story. It was the first thing to get restored.”

“The resort was named The Carib,” I keep going, loving that this conversation has morphed into one about the property. “Carib was a reference to the Native Indians who used to live on St. Croix. But Damian and I took the i out and dubbed it The Crab.” I smile at Damian, remembering all the fun we’ve had here over the years. Back when my life was easy and carefree.

“So, pretty much anytime we came, we invited Keatyn and A—, her mom,” he says, covering quickly. “Dad always said she kept me out of trouble. And she did. She was always making up plays and making me act them out.”

I laugh. “I was sort of obsessed with the story of the frog prince.”

“And Prince Eric and every other fairy tale.”

Peyton stands up suddenly and grabs my arm. “Keatyn, come with me to get some drinks.”

I’m about to tell her all she has to do is press the button on the digital screen sitting on the side table, but she whisks me inside before I can speak.

“Ohmigawd! I just figured it out!”

“Figured what out?” I say, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

What did she figure out? That he almost said Abby? Or that Matt and my mom have worked together on movies for years?

“That’s Damian Moran.”

I laugh with relief. “Um, yeah. I told you that.”

“No, you introduced him as Damian and then you said something about the Morans. That means his dad is the director, Matt Moran? And he’s Twisted Dreams’ Damian?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“But why didn’t you say that you knew him when we were watching his video?”

“I think I did. You probably don’t remember,” I lie. “You were busy lusting over him. I told you we’d get tickets to his concert, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, I do remember that. Anyway. Oh. My. Gosh. He is so dreamy. And even cuter in real life! Do you think he’ll sing for us?”

“Peyton, he just got off tour. I think he’s looking forward to some down time. No screaming fans.”

“Oh, of course he is. Shit.” She runs her hands nervously down her cover-up. “Do I look okay?” She peeks in a mirrored surface on the bar. “Oh, my hair is a mess. Why didn’t you tell me my hair’s a mess?”

“Damian loves windblown hair.” Shit. Why did I just say that? But it’s fine. Knowing Peyton, she’s probably just looking for a hookup.

“Did you see the way our eyes met? I swear, it was exactly how I pictured it would be with Mr. Dreamy. That instant connection. He’s amazing.”

Or not. Shit!

“Peyton, what do you mean? You don’t even know him.”

“So he’s not amazing?”

“He’s my best friend. Of course, he’s amazing. I just mean . . .”

“Fine. I don’t know him well enough yet to say, but seriously, I think I’m in love with him. He looked so sexy standing there . . .”