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Ciaran

CIARAN

Matty has hot friends who have hot cars, right?

That was a message from Rowen in the group chat with my friends. I was sitting on the veranda being utterly useless while everyone else around me was productive.

Some of Matty's swim team will be at my birthday bash , I wrote back, my fingers flying over my phone. A few of them have exotic cars .

Rowen sent back a thumbs up emoji.

This was the weekend that Matty would finally meet my friends in person. On top of that, I'd be meeting Matty's older brother, Dante, after he flew in from Singapore tonight.

Needless to say, my nerves were on high alert. Like, the highest. The party planners my mom hired were moving around the property like soldiers defending a fortress. Franky was baking up a storm in the guesthouse kitchen while Filipe, who'd ordained himself the grill master of ceremonies, was already on the premises, setting up. It was barely ten in the morning.

An hour ago, Davies informed me that the Vaulteneau jet had touched down at LAX.

My friends would be here shortly.

I wanted to go wait by the gate for them, but Matty laughed and said, "I mean, you can if you want, but it's at least a forty-five-minute drive, babe."

So I didn't loiter at the gate, even though I wanted to, even though there were a million things to do before my friends got here. Instead I sat on the veranda watching everyone else.

At least the weather was perfect. It was warm and sunny with nary a cloud in the sky.

Franky must have felt sorry for me because she placed freshly brewed hot coffee and a toasted bagel smothered with her homemade cream cheese on the table in front of me.

"Stop fidgeting, belated-birthday boy," Franky admonished with a wink. Her abundant red hair was piled high on the top of her head, a sure sign that she was in boss mode. "It's making me nervous."

"Thanks, Franky." I took a sip of her heavenly coffee and mumbled, "Mmm…so good."

"Bet your ass it is." She cocked her head in the direction of the guesthouse. "Gotta get back to work, kiddo, but I can't wait to meet your friends."

Thankfully, Matty, who was helping my mom set up the lawn for my birthday bash, distracted me by looking supremely hot in turquoise board shorts and a black tank top as he lifted stuff from one part of the lawn to another part of the lawn.

If he posed for me while he did it, well, that was between us.

After he'd made one last trip carrying poles for the DJ tent, Matty kissed me and said, "Joan and I are headed out to grab ice for the party. Love you byyyye."

I eyed his retreating figure suspiciously.

Matty and Joan were not the kind of people who "grabbed ice" so I knew it was a bold-faced lie. Besides, Joan wasn't even here yet. Still, I let it slide because I'd overheard them the other day talking about visiting an antique shop to pick up "you know what" for "you know who."

They were literally terrible at keeping secrets, which was crazy when I thought about how they were able to fence and re-home stolen artifacts for years without getting caught. Thank goodness they'd hung up that line of work and were instead channeling that energy into conservationism and partnering with authorities to combat black market sales.

Mom was directing traffic, so to speak, with the party planners, and Stefon, God bless his billionaire soul, was actually wearing flamboyant swim trunks and inflating pink flamingo pool floaties on the patio. The things that man did for my mom.

So I ate Franky's delicious bagel and drank her coffee and looked at the time on my phone until the front gate screeched open.

And then I ran to the main entrance like a goddamn idiot just in time to see Davies drive into the roundabout.

It wasn't like I hadn't seen my friends recently. Mom and I had flown back to Vegas a few weeks ago so that Mom could host a Vaulteneau charity event. Matty wanted to go, but there was a mandatory weekend rehab session with his counselor. Matty started making progress once he found a counselor he connected with. It wasn't easy since he had to go through three counselors before finding Dr. Nance.

So while Matty was up in a mountain retreat with Dr. Nance, I spent two days sequestered with my friends, answering their rapid-fire questions about the hotness that was my boyfriend, Matthias Vaulteneau. I'm sure the permanent blush painted on my face that weekend told them everything, but I wasn't one to kiss and tell, not that I thought my friends would sell us out to the tabloids. Suffice to say they quickly figured out that Matty and I were together together, and not just fooling around, and that yes, my mom was cool with it and that no, Stefon hadn't gone nuclear on us.

At some point over the last few weeks, my friends sort of figured out the sordid tale about Mr. Jones and why he fled to the other side of the world. While they all had thought Mr. Jones's attentions toward me were suspicious, they didn't realize just how far it had gone. One by one, my friends pledged to disembowel the man should he ever show his face again.

The line of people willing to hurt the man was getting pretty long. Even Drew's grandmother, Miss Paulina, quickly disowned him when she realized what her grandson had done.

While my first impression of Miss Paulina when I arrived to the Vaulteneau estate wasn't very kind, she'd apologized to me directly the day after she discovered the truth, which I'd appreciated. Part of me hated feeling like a victim, so I knew healing would take a while, or so my therapist kept reminding me.

But I had Matty, my mom, and my best friends, who surrounded me and supported me without question. Stefon was even growing on me when he'd ask me about my writing over family dinners. It felt nice to be included, to be appreciated.

So no one could blame me when I opened the rear passenger door before the car even came to a complete stop.

"Oh, my God," Raj gasped as he stepped out of the sleek black town car. He craned his neck as he took in the Vaulteneau mansion's blue turret. Kinzy, Rowen, and Brieana all tumbled out after him, each more aghast than the last. I wanted to laugh at how round their eyes got. "This place is unreal . You're like, Bezos rich, my dude. Somebody pinch me."

My smile widened when we all leaned in to pinch Raj's hairy arm.

Bezos rich? Not even close.

"The estate is pretty crazy," I agreed with Raj in a wheezy voice because at that exact moment my short friend pulled me into a fierce hug. "Matty and I sleep in the guesthouse, but the main house has plenty of room. Mom put you guys in a double suite on the third floor. It's got killer views of the ocean."

"Your mom rocks," Kinzy said after she'd had her turn at hugging me. "I brought a large canvas and my painting supplies. Private jets are like, the best. Lord Byron and I may take a walk along the beach later, if that's okay."

And yup, Kinzy still believed she was dating the ghost of Lord George Byron. "That's okay," I said, because who was I to say she wasn't.

Rowen, who wasn't a hugger, offered a fist bump while Brieana sidled up beside me to put her arm around my waist as I steered the group toward the main entry doors.

"You and your boyfriend sleep in the guesthouse?" she inquired. Her lips curved into her signature charming gap-tooth smile that left me in no doubt of what she actually meant. She'd seemed to have grown at least an inch since I last saw her. She was still the smallest of all of us. "Alone… without adult supervision?"

"Subtle, Brieana," Rowen accused her good-naturedly.

"Actually," I said as we ascended the grand staircase, "Matty and I have separate bedrooms. And last I checked, I'm eighteen and an adult."

"Uh huh," Brieana crowed, her dark, gemstone eyes lighting up with triumph as she took in my pink face.

Of course, we mostly slept in Matty's bedroom, but there were plenty of nights where I'd stay up late in my room writing, especially when inspiration hit. Other nights, when Matty had to get up early for practice, he'd want a solid's night sleep on his own.

Not that I planned to explain any of that to them.

Rowen ruffled my curls, which I'd let grow out. He gave me a once-over, inspecting my T-shirt and board shorts, both of which cost more than I was willing to admit. "Looking fit," Rowen added. "I take it you're swimming more these days?"

"Yeah," I said once we reached the third floor. "Matty and I hit the lanes most mornings. Stefon recently had a weight room built for us, so that's how we get in our dryland exercises, though sometimes we jog on the beach."

"Sweet," Rowen and Brieana both murmured. Even though none of my friends were really into sports or working out, they knew how much I liked swimming. I was getting better at surfing, too.

The weight room was Stefon's birthday present for me. I still couldn't believe that he'd done that. Granted, I was sure Matty had something to do with it, perhaps even putting the idea in his dad's head, but the fact that Stefon did something so thoughtful, regardless of the cost, was a clear sign he was nuts for Mom. Because I wasn't delusional enough to think he'd commissioned it solely for my benefit. I'd grown up knowing that men made fools of themselves around my mom. This man, Stefon Vaulteneau, was no exception, and he wore that crown proudly.

"Hey, guys," Raj said, turning every which way like he'd misplaced something. "Where'd Kinzy go?"

And…sure enough, we'd lost Kinzy on the climb to the third floor.

We peered over the railing and found her staring at the paintings one floor down.

I started laughing.

"She's in her natural habitat," Rowen joked.

He wasn't lying. Kinzy was art mad and felt a kinship with old things, like paintings and books.

"No point in trying to get her attention," I offered, "not when she's lost in viewing artwork. She'll either follow our voices or she'll reanimate when she smells dinner."

I showed my friends to their double suite. Rowen and Raj would sleep in one room while Kinzy and Brieana stayed in the other.

Everyone but Kinzy, who was still downstairs, inspected the bedrooms and each adjoining room like how I did when I first arrived: eyes wide, mouths open, minds blown. Once out on the balcony, we took in the view of the ocean before turning our attention to the commotion out on the lawn near the pool and the front of the guesthouse.

Mom was pointing to a section of the grounds where the DJ station would get set up. Mom hired a pretty famous DJ for my birthday bash. By the end of the night, it would essentially be a private EDM concert for my friends and Matty's swim team.

While the party was mostly about my eighteenth birthday, I'd insisted on it also being about Matty's swim team. Nationals tryouts were less than two weeks away, so this was a venue where everyone could simply chill out and have a good time without the paparazzi getting all up in our business.

With Coach Anderson's recent indictment, there'd been a lot of focus on USC's men's swim team. The paparazzi smelled chum and were swarming like sharks.

Only the family and Matty's teammates knew he'd bowed out of the upcoming competition. Filipe would fill in for Matty on the relay team, which I thought was a win-win. Filipe had been swimming and competing for as long as Matty, so I already knew the relay team would come out on top.

Matty would get his chance in the future. For now, though, as he sought treatment and let his shoulder heal, he served as the team's mentor and junior coach while the assistant coach stepped up to lead the team after Coach Anderson's firing.

"Is that Matty?" Brieana asked. "Who's he with?"

I spotted Matty and Joan sneaking into the guesthouse. Matty was carrying what looked like a fairly heavy brown box. I couldn't tell what was inside, but it wasn't bags of ice, of that I was sure.

Joan was carrying what was clearly a longboard, covered in birthday-themed wrapping paper.

"Yes, that's Matty," I said. I didn't even try to hide the dreamy smile in my voice. "Next to him is Joan, one of his best friends. She's a surfer, a hacker, and she owns a tricked-out purple race car. It has crazy flashing lights and everything."

"She sounds badass," Rowen said, his gray eyes flickering with sudden interest. "Do you think she drove the race car here? Would she let me film it for my channel?"

"Dunno, man. But we can ask." I pointed at Filipe, who was still prepping his grill station like he was a contestant on Master Chef . "He also owns a race car. They're a couple." I watched as my friend absorbed that information. Tall and a bit lanky, with short black hair, gray eyes, and a coy smile, Rowen would get eaten alive by Joan and Filipe, I thought. And Rowen might go for it . "I'll be sure to introduce you."

A few minutes later, Matty entered the suite, and I finally had an opportunity to introduce my boyfriend to my Vegas friends. I probably said the word "boyfriend" twenty times. Matty was pretty smug about that.

By my friends' animated expressions, I could tell they all really liked Matty. Even Kinzy, when she finally figured out we all existed, came upstairs and asked Matty about the estate's paintings.

"Do you guys want to try your hand at surfing?" Matty asked a few minutes later. We all made our way downstairs and outside into the chaos that was the early stages of a mini-Coachella on the lawn. "We have lots of boards and wetsuits."

Everyone but Kinzy wanted to surf, because she wanted to prep her canvas. She'd already told me she was going to paint something for me for my birthday.

After changing, and as we made our way down the cliff—Joan included, who was happily telling Rowen all about her race car—I asked Matty, "Did you and Joan get enough ice for the party?"

My casual question seemed to stump him for a second.

"Yup," he said when he recovered, clearly fibbing his ass off. "Lots of ice, babe. Tons."

"You sure it will be enough?"

Matty's dark eyes sparkled before he leaned in to kiss me on the lips. His surfboard smacked mine and it fell out of my hands.

The soundtrack of my friends' Minion-sounding "oooohs" and "aaaahs" and Joan's "aren't they so cute!" behind us only emboldened Matty to deepen the kiss.

"It will never be enough," was Matty's husky reply.

My face felt hot as I rushed to pick up my board and follow Matty down to the beach, because what else was I supposed to do but act like a complete fool around the guy who dared to steal my heart?

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