“I have my reasons for coming to Nashville,” Kai admits. “Not that country music is in need of a gay Hawaiian.”
“I think that’s exactly what country music needs,” I disagree, already mentally going through my contacts list. Kai is seriously talented and Nashville is full of producers looking for the next big star. I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to make promises I can’t keep.
Kai fills us in on his musical aspirations the rest of the way to Northern Valmont.
“Then my mother tried to get me on America’s Got Talent, but…” The words fall from his lips when I turn onto Magnolia Lane. He rolls down his window to stick his head out for a better look as we pass the first estate. By the time, we pull into the West’s drive, his mouth is hanging open. I park next to a Porsche and Cyrus’s Jaguar, earning a disgruntled sigh from Poppy.
“Sorry,” I mouth. Poppy might be ‘back on the market officially’ but not emotionally.
“I thought we were going to a house party,” Kai says still buckled in the back seat.
“This is it.”
“This isn’t a house. It’s a museum.” He finally climbs out, craning his neck to take in the sweeping terra cotta roof.
Someone’s had the genius idea to mount strobe lights on the second-floor balcony’s iron railing. Anywhere else the police might bust up a party like this, but Magnolia Lane employs private security. I have no doubt they’ve been properly bribed to steer clear this evening.
“People live here?” Kai asks.
I can’t help but laugh. Already I feel lighter than I have in weeks. I turn to Poppy and wink. “Would we call them people?”
“It’s debatable.”
“Is your house this big?” he asks me.
Poppy giggles, linking his arm through hers and leading him toward the entrance, an oversized set of intricately carved wooden doors. “Oh, darling, it’s bigger.”
“I need the men’s room,” Kai says as soon as we’re inside. His head tilts backward to the large five-tiered, iron chandelier beset with lights made to look like lit candles hanging in the two-story foyer. He nearly topples over trying to take it all in.
“Straight that way. Find the line of girls waiting and turn on your charm,” I advise.
He flashes a winning grin and sets off just as Ava catches us. Her black mini dress contrasts starkly with the considerable amounts of peachy skin it displays. The sharp sting of vodka on her breath nearly knocks me out as she teeters on her heels, swaying into a hug. “You came! Poppy told me you tried to back out. She said you weren’t feeling well.”
“Is that so?” I side-eye Poppy. It’s not like her to walk into a lie.
“I feel better,” I say, not wanting to give the real reason I’d considered ditching the festivities.
“I should have stayed in.” Ava’s lips plump into a pout. “There’s no one interesting here.”
“By no one do you mean boys?” I guess. “This place is crawling with boys.”
“No new boys, though,” she corrects me. “Except Sterling—and Darcy has dibs on him.”
“She does?” My voice pitches up in surprise, and I flinch painfully aware how distressed I sound. Ava doesn’t seem to notice thanks to her blood alcohol level, but Poppy smirks next to me. This confirms her suspicions.
“She says, but I think he’s fair game,” Ava slurs.
“I don’t think he’s interested in Darcy.” Poppy casts a knowing look at me.
“Did you guys see the pool?” Kai asks, finally finding us.
Ava straightens at his appearance, holding out her empty hand. As soon as he takes it, she presses closer to him until he’s practically holding her up. “I’m Ava.”
“I’m gay,” he says, blinking over the bundle of vodka-infused girl suddenly in his arms.
She sighs heavily, pastes on a smile and releases her catch. “Oh well. Want a drink?”
“Um, sure.” He looks to us for confirmation.
“She doesn’t bite,” I promise him.
“Unless I’m asked,” Ava says sweetly. “Oh, there’s Oliver. I need to say hello. I’ll catch you all later.” She waves, her cup sloshing onto Poppy’s romper. She weaves into the crowd without an apology, spilling a trail of vodka in her wake.
Poppy surveys the damage, brushing the liquid from her romper. “Why is she acting like a lunatic party hostess?”
“She’s being Ava.”
“I wish I was a social butterfly.” Poppy watches her go.
“Ava is more like a praying mantis,” I correct her. “You are a social butterfly. This just isn’t your garden, babe.”
“At least Sterling is here,” she teases me.
“Who’s Sterling?” Kai pushes back the dark hair flopping into his shining eyes.
“Who cares if he’s here?”
“I care because he’s very pretty to look at,” Poppy says, “and you care because you’re totally in love with him.”
“Poppy Landry! I am not in love with him. I’m totally in loathing with him, but that is it.”
“Your voice is shaking,” Kai points out.
“Want to try that again with a little sincerity?” Poppy asks.
“Okay.” I consider my words, measuring each one before I speak. “Maybe I don’t hate Sterling, but I don’t like him—especially not like that. He was nice and drove me to the hospital, so he can’t be a complete asshole. I can’t prove that, though, since that’s all he’s been every other minute I’ve spent with him.”
“You can keep selling, but I’m not buying.”
“He is terrible. He’s rude, and he’s arrogant, and he’s—”
“Staring at you,” Poppy cuts in.
I drop my voice to a whisper. Telling myself, there’s no way he heard any of that in here. Not with all these people. “What?”
“Now he’s on his way over,” she narrates, “and he looks good enough to lick.”
“I concur with
