I HAVE NEVER LIED to my parents before, until I met Crew. Now I’m sneaking around and hiding what I’m doing from my mom and dad, specifically my father, because I know he would be incredibly disappointed in me.
Worse, he’d flat out tell me no about this trip. Going away for the weekend with a boy, all alone?
Daddy would never let that happen.
Bringing up his contact info, I hit call and wait, holding the phone to my ear as I go to my closet and pull down the bag I use when I travel.
“Pumpkin, how are you?” His voice is warm and edged with faint concern, which makes me feel guilty.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“How was your day? How’s school going? Glad the semester is almost over?”
“Definitely.” I need to get this over with. “Um, I wanted to ask you a question.”
“What is it? Is everything okay?”
“Everything is great,” I reassure him. He’s been worried about me ever since the divorce announcement—and retraction. “A friend of mine invited me to go on a trip this weekend.”
“A trip? The weekend before finals? Are you sure that’s a smart idea?”
No, it’s a terrible idea. And a wonderful one too.
“I’m ready for finals. I already completed one today,” I tell him. “I have an A in psychology.”
“Of course you do.” He says it as if he never had any doubt about my abilities. “Where are you going? Somewhere close?”
“Vermont.”
“Are you driving? Another storm is coming in, you know. It’ll be dangerous on the roads. And who are you going with?”
“Maggie.” I close my eyes, praying he believes me. “And we’re flying. Her family—has a plane.”
I have no idea if that’s actually true. Maggie’s family comes from money, but it might not be we-have-a-private-plane-type money.
“Oh. Well that should be safer if you’re flying out tonight. The storm is coming in tomorrow.”
“We’ll be careful, Daddy. We just want to get away for a bit. Relax before our intense finals week.”
“Are you ready? Do you need to study?”
“I’ll be okay,” I reassure him. “Really. Can I go?”
He’s quiet for a moment, which makes me nervous. I start pacing around my room, afraid of his answer.
“I normally would never allow something like this,” he starts, getting my hopes up. “But you’re almost eighteen. Almost done with high school. You deserve to have a little break. Especially since Veronica wasn’t able to find proper accommodations for your birthday trip.”
Oh. Veronica. His assistant. The trip she was supposed to be planning for me, even though I wanted to do it. “What do you mean, she wasn’t able to find proper accommodations?”
“Everything I wanted for you was sold out or too expensive.”
Since when does expense matter to my father? I know I sound like a spoiled brat, but he’s usually able to get me whatever I want, no matter the cost—save for that art piece I wanted so badly last year.
“It’s okay. This trip will be for my birthday,” I tell him.
“Then enjoy it, Pumpkin. We can’t wait to see you next weekend. Your mother has held off decorating the house. She wants to wait until you’re home.”
I frown. That doesn’t sound normal either. Mother usually starts decorating right after Thanksgiving. She’ll hire out a professional to come into the house and decorate with a theme in mind. It looks like something straight out of a magazine layout. Almost too beautiful to touch.
I’ve always sort of hated it.
“I’d love to help her,” I say, meaning every word. I can’t remember the last time we decorated for Christmas on our own. Do we actually even own any Christmas decorations anymore? Normally Mother pays for the decorating service, has the house featured in some sort of online publication for publicity, and then gives the decorations back when the holidays are over.
“Good. I’ll let her know. I’ll tell her about your trip too,” he says. “Have fun, Pumpkin. Be safe.”
The guilt is real. “I will. Thank you.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
He ends the call, and I immediately text Crew.
Me: I can go.
My phone starts ringing and I answer quickly.
“Pack your bags fast, Birdy. We need to be at the airport by five-fifteen,” Crew explains.
Panic floods my veins. That means I don’t have a lot of time. “I can be ready by then, but I need to go so I can pack.”
“I’ll pick you up at your building in a half hour, okay?”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
We arrive at the airport, with the plane scheduled to take off by five-forty-five. The flight to Vermont is only about thirty minutes. From there, we have a twenty-five-minute drive to our hotel, which fills me with both excitement and dread.
Will we have separate beds? Knowing Crew, I think that’s doubtful.
Pretty sure I’m in over my head.
I enter the Gulfstream jet first, Crew right behind me, and we’re greeted by a male flight attendant who’s dressed in a black suit.
“Mr. Lancaster, good evening. Welcome. My name is Thomas and I’ll be serving you and your guest during your flight.” Thomas glances over at me, his gaze friendly. “Would you care for anything to drink?”
“I’d like a glass of champagne,” Crew answers Thomas.
“And you, Miss?” Thomas’s gaze meets mine.
“She’ll have the same,” Crew answers for me.
“Will do.” Thomas offers a little bow and leaves to go fix our drinks.
I turn to Crew. “Champagne?”
“Let’s celebrate.”
“We’re underage.”
“They’re not going to check our IDs. My family owns the plane. We can do whatever we want,” Crew says before he starts checking out the plane. “This is nice. I haven’t been on this one.”
“Do you fly private often?” He’s right. This plane is very nice. The leather seats are a rich cream, clustered in pairs facing each other with a small table in between them. The windows are oval shaped and large, and there’s a cabinet with a TV.
“Most of the time,” Crew answers, and I marvel at the casualness of his answer. What it must be like, to come from such wealth. My family has plenty of money, but nothing like this.
I think of what my father said on the phone earlier and I’m starting to think we don’t have as much money as I originally thought.
Thomas brings us our drinks and I take mine with a murmured thank you, settling into the seat closest to the window.
“We’ll be taking off shortly,” Thomas announces.
“Thank you, Thomas,” Crew tells him, settling into the seat beside me and taking a sip from his glass.
I follow his lead, taking a tinier sip, the bubbles tickling my throat. My nose. It tastes almost bitter, but at least it goes down relatively smooth.
“Ever drank champagne before?” Crew asks me.
I slowly shake my head. “I don’t drink alcohol.”
“I am thoroughly corrupting you.” He clinks his glass to mine. “What do you think?”
“It’s okay.” I take another sip because he’s watching me, and I make a face. “It tickles.”
“It’s the bubbles.”
I study the glass, the tiny bubbles in the golden liquid. “I don’t know if I like it.”
“I bet you’d prefer something sweet. A tropical drink.”
“I drank lots of virgin pina coladas when we went on a Caribbean cruise a couple of years ago,” I tell him, immediately feeling dumb for admitting that.
He sets his glass on the table in front of us and then takes mine from my hand, setting it on the table next to his. “You’re nervous.”
This isn’t asked as a question. He can sense it. I don’t bother denying it either.
“I am,” I admit. “I feel bad, lying to my father. Going away with you for the weekend. This is a huge step for me, Crew. I don’t do things like this.”
“I won’t push you for anything you don’t want to do,” he says, and I know he means it, but he also knows how easy it is for me to get carried away when I’m with him.
I know it too. Maybe I feel guilty because I want to do this. I want to run away with him for a couple of days and forget the rest of the world. Spend my time with Crew and no one else. I think of the day he showed up at the art gallery, and how much fun we had. Just the two of us.
I also think of the night in his room, when we kissed in his bed and he went down on me. That was fun too. A different kind of fun, something I want to explore more, if I’m being honest with myself.
I didn’t know it could be like this. That he could feel like a friend and a—lover, both at once. How much I’d want to spend time with him. How lonely I feel when he’s not around. How happy I am when I first spot him, when he shines that smile on me, looks at me with those all-knowing blue eyes. Filled with a combination of affection and lust. Sometimes amusement. Sometimes irritation.
All I ever wanted was for someone to see me for who I really am. Everyone has their own expectations and eventually I fell into those roles, giving them what they needed from me. No one makes me feel like I’m just being myself when I’m with them.
Except for Crew.
“Wren.” His deep voice pulls me from my thoughts and I glance up to find Crew watching me, his gaze steady, his expression serious. He touches my hair. Tucks a strand behind my ear, his fingers lingering. “I’m glad you’re coming with me. You need to get away from reality for a little while.”
“So do you,” I say, then I frown. “Wait. I’m still supposed to be mad at you.”
A sigh leaves him. “What did I do now?”
“You never responded to my text this morning. I was worried about you. I didn’t know where you were.” That’s another thing I’m not used to.
Caring about someone—a boy—and wondering where he is when he doesn’t reach out. I was truly worried. Even a little panicked. What if something happened to him? Something awful? The relief I felt upon first seeing him blotted out all of my anger and frustration.
But that’s all coming back to me now.
“I was in the admin office all morning. I didn’t get out of there until after lunch,” he admits, reaching for his champagne glass and draining it, as if he needs the liquor coursing through him to even talk about it.
“Why were you in the office?” I almost don’t want to know.
“I was being questioned by police detectives. About Figueroa.”
“Oh.” That sounds ominous. “Are they going to arrest him?”
“Probably. That’s half the reason I wanted to get away from here. I’m sick of dealing with that shit. Natalie and her lies. Figueroa and his sleazy ways.” His upper lip curls with disgust. “I can’t stand him.”
“Forget about him.” I pluck the empty glass from his fingers and return it to the table before I turn my full attention on him. “Let’s focus on the weekend. I don’t even know where you’re taking me exactly.”
“Manchester, Vermont. I hear they go all out for the holidays.”
“Really?” Excitement bubbles up inside me, much like the bubbles in my champagne glass. “And there’s snow? Mountains? Pine trees?”
He nods. “I’ve never seen someone so enthusiastic for the mountains.”
“I’m a city girl. My family never goes to the mountains.”
“Not even to Vail?”
“You sound like such a snob right now,” I say with a soft laugh. “And no, we don’t go to Vail.”
“You’re missing out then.” He doesn’t even seem offended by me calling him a snob. Not like I really meant it.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Crew nods, turning in his seat so he’s facing me more fully.
“Did you do this for me? This trip to Vermont? Or for yourself?”
He reaches for me, his hand landing on my cheek, his fingers stroking my skin, leaving me breathless. “I did it for you.”
I blink at him, my eyes wanting to fill with tears, though I don’t know why.
“I did it for us,” he admits.
Just before he kisses me.
