As the night wears on, we lose track of each other in the crowd. People are snapping photos of him and asking for autographs. Since I grew up here, I’m less in demand, and Isaac might as well be Wyatt’s groupie for all the attention people seem to be paying him.
Last call has gone out when I go in search of Wyatt. He and Isaac have disappeared to the bathroom several times in the last half hour, which means they’re likely hopped up on a wicked drug combination. I strut around the terrace, weaving between groups of people. This panic gripping my chest could be paranoia or it may be justified. Hard to tell after the amount I’ve had to drink.
Rather than asking people if they’ve seen him, I head toward the water. Though Wyatt is a terrible swimmer, he has a strange fascination with water when he’s high. In the distance, outside the well-lit area, I catch sight of a figure tightrope-walking along the waist-high ledge that borders the water to the left of the marina. The top of the wall is flat and wide, but Wyatt is weaving.
“Wyatt?” I call when I get close enough. A commotion breaks out behind me on the terrace, but I’m laser-focused on him. One wrong step, and he’s tumbling into the dark ocean below fully dressed. It’s not a long drop, but at night, with his poor swimming . . . I can’t catch a full breath.
He glances up, and a grin splits his face. He seems to forget he’s on the ledge because he tries to walk toward me at a normal speed, and he topples off the side, toward the ocean.
I let out a cry, and I rush over to the edge. Down below, Wyatt is thrashing in the water, but rather than swimming to the boat dock or back toward the wall, he’s headed out into the darkness.
I kick off my shoes, and I launch myself into the surf. When I hit it, the coolness sends a shot of adrenaline through me. Wyatt is easy to catch, but he’s already barely keeping his head above water. I latch onto him, and he scrambles for me, pushing me down with his weight. Before I go under, I manage to snatch a breath.
When I resurface, Wyatt’s face is barely visible against the gentle waves. He’s going to drown. A cry of agony escapes my lips, and I plunge back over to him. I manage to grab the neck of his T-shirt, and I drag him through the water behind me toward the dock. At the edge of the concrete pier, I swing him around, and Wyatt grips the ladder.
“You’re stronger than you look.” His voice brims with amusement, and I want to slap him.
The adrenaline and the shock of the situation has washed away any of my drunkenness. We could have died. He could have died. I hold onto the ladder with one hand while I grip his chin with the other. “Are you okay?”
“If you wanted a swim, you should have told me.” He runs a hand down his face, wiping away the residual water, and he grins.
Once we’re at the top of the ladder, he slings his arm around my shoulders while rivers of water run off us. The terrace has been cleared out, and the staff eye us as we walk past.
“Are you okay?” one of the bartenders calls to us as he cleans up his station.
“Went for a swim,” Wyatt calls back. “Water is refreshing.”
The guy chuckles, and I shake my head.
Outside the hotel, Calshae, Nikki, and Isaac are bent over laughing about something while the rest of my friends are trying to coax them toward Front Street so we can walk home.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Isaac climbed the moon gate and got banned from the hotel for life. They took a copy of his license and everything.” Nikki blinks and cocks her head. “Are you wet?”
“I went for a swim, and Ellie came too,” Wyatt says.
Isaac claps Wyatt on the back and launches into the story of when they were high and jumped off a roof into a shallow pool. As they walk, water forms rivers on the ground from Wyatt’s soaked clothing. I shiver as a breeze sweeps across Front Street.
While I peer into the starless sky, Nikki recounts Isaac’s moon gate escapades, and I wonder whether my mother is right—that the depths will keep dragging us down until one of us drowns.
Chapter Twenty
Wyatt
Present Day
I toss another pebble into the water, and it skips across the surface. A day and a half left. Annoyance floats above me like a cloud. Ellie could have cleared her schedule. She could have breakfast with her mother any day.
“That was a good one,” Calshae says from her seat on the blanket.
“There are no good rocks on this beach.”
“We pay a lot of money for there to be no rocks on this beach. Every time you find a pebble, I consider firing our beach maintenance people.”
“Not worth it. Not high tourist season.” I bend down to grab another tiny pebble and rub it between my fingers. “Thanks for coming out here with me. I’m not good at being alone.”
“Sometimes being alone is good for you.” She sifts sand with her hands. “Any progress with Ellie?”
“No idea. She’s hard to read. Something is holding her back.”
“Probably the addiction thing.” Calshae doesn’t miss a beat.
I turn on her, and I’m sure my frustration spews out of me. Of course that’s a factor, but during every conversation, there’s an undercurrent I can’t quite ride to its logical conclusion. There’s something else.
She holds up her hands. “Come on. You can’t pretend that’s not a big deal. We hung out when you and Ellie were together, and I’ve seen the YouTube videos.”
“Made bad choices the first year or so after she left me,” I admit. “A cease and desist went out on as many of those as I could wrangle.” Most of those videos are a black hole. I want to crush the pebble in my hand. “That’s not representative of who I am. Hell, I was never like that with Ellie when we were together. I went insane for a while.” Which reminds me of something I haven’t gotten around to asking. “Why aren’t you two friends anymore?”
“I wouldn’t say we aren’t friends. It’s complicated. People drift apart for lots of reasons.” Calshae smiles, and her white teeth are striking against her dark face.
Sort of what Ellie said too, but again there was an undercurrent to the conversation. Most of the time I drift from people when they start treating me like the bank of fame and fortune instead of a friend. Can’t imagine that was the issue between Calshae and Ellie, since they are both from prominent and wealthy families on the island. Whatever happened to their friendship, Ellie hasn’t minded me spending time with Calshae, and I liked her company then and now. She’s a straight shooter.
“You leave the island not tomorrow but the morning after that, right?” she asks. “Want me to drive you?”
I squint out at the ocean. “I’m kinda hoping Ellie might want to take me.”
“If that doesn’t work out, I’m around that morning anyway.”
I search for more rocks, wandering down the beach. There’s a restlessness in me today that I don’t like. Whatever is preventing Ellie from diving back in with me is niggling at my brain, prompting my addictive tendencies. Whenever there’s a chance something in life is going to be painful or hurtful, my instinct is to reach for old habits to soften the blow.
“Hey, Calshae.” I walk back toward her.
She raises her head in question.
“Where’s the school Ellie is helping out at today?”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“I gotta keep occupied or I’ll do something stupid.” I fish the stress ball out of my pocket and squeeze it over and over for emphasis.
“What would you be doing if you were at home?”
I flex the stress ball a few more times. “Running around after a three-year-old.”
She frowns and looks confused. “You have a kid? Does Ellie know?”
“He’s not mine. My sister lives with me in LA. Very few people are aware. She doesn’t enjoy the attention anymore, but she needs my help.”
“Have you told Ellie? I’d think that would be kinda an important detail.”
“Ell
ie hasn’t really asked about Anna.” She brought her up the other day, but I sidestepped the question. “It’s a long story, but she lives with me now and so does Jamal.” I crash down beside Calshae on the blanket. “Ellie and Anna didn’t get along.”
“Yeah, I remember how tense their relationship was. She was a model for a while, right?”
“She was. Like me, she spiraled out of control once Isaac died. Couldn’t hold down a job. We even lost touch for a while when we were both at our worst.”
“You haven’t told Ellie about Anna and Jamal?”
I shrug. There are only so many things I can spring on Ellie while I’m extending my pleas for a reunion. Pretty sure my sister is a deal breaker.
“You’re being stupid.” Calshae shakes her head. “You want her back, but you’re not laying it all out there. I mean, she has a life here. Did you expect her to pick up and move to LA?”
“You sound like Ellie.”
“Well, it’s true.” She dusts sand off her legs. “It’s a big deal. Concealing that from Ellie isn’t going to make her trust you again.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” I lean on my elbows, staring up at the cloudless sky.
“She’s got her work cut out for her with you.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You’re still so stubborn.”
“I hold a grudge like you would not believe.”
“That why it took you ten years to get here?” She gives me a sideways glance.
“Maybe. Who knows? Sometimes I have no idea why it took me so long. I did try a few times. I kept waiting for Ellie to cave. There was also that small drug habit I had going on. Kept me pretty distracted from reality for a long time. Between back-to-back movie roles and feeding my addictions, I didn’t let myself dwell on why I felt so shitty.”
“Why are you here now?”
“My sister.” I purse my lips. “We’ve been doing counseling, trying to get to the bottom of our mutual issues. Ellie kept coming up over and over in sessions. How much I loved her, how sad I was that I fucked it up. Anna asked me at what point I was going to go after what I wanted. Funny coming from her, but something clicked. I started making phone calls, trying to connect with Ellie, get someone to talk to me.” I trace patterns in the sand.
“I remember I had a message about a year ago from your personal assistant. Ignored it.”
“You and a bunch of others. Some things don’t change. No one wanted me back in Ellie’s life.”
“Someone finally talked?” Calshae stretches out her legs in the sand.
“You don’t get all my secrets, Calshae.” I lie back on the blanket. “I think I should go to the school. They’ll like seeing me, right? Who doesn’t want to hang out with Wyatt Burgess?” I cock an eyebrow, and she grins a little. “Ellie’s doing some kind of drama thing?”
“You’re not going to the school.”
“I’m going to do something stupid if I sit around all day.” I throw an arm across my face to block out the sun.
“Going to the school would be stupid.”
“I get that.” Sort of. I’m sure the students would like to see me. Even Ellie wouldn’t be mad for that long once I turned on the charm.
Seeing Ellie has fanned the flickering flame, creating an inferno that is threatening to consume me. I can’t get her out of my head. Leaving her behind when I have to return to LA is going to gut me. If she won’t give me another chance, I’m worried about my ability to cope.
“What do you normally do when you feel like this?” Calshae asks. “You can’t always be playing with your nephew.”
“When I’m on location or on set, I run a lot or work out. But I’ve done both of those this morning.”
“Swim?”
“I’m a terrible swimmer.”
“Want me to teach you?”
Removing my arm from across my face, I glance at her. “I’m not always the most patient person when I can’t catch onto something.”
“I remember you on a golf course. Then again, I think you’d been drinking that morning. Consider me warned.” Calshae gestures for me to get organized. “Come on. You want to do something? I can teach you to swim. What are you doing with Ellie after Haven’s done school?”
“How’d you know we were doing something with Haven too?”
Calshae stands and brushes off her legs. She takes her time before saying, “They spend a lot of time together.”
“Haven wants me to kayak and snorkel with her tonight.” I rise and flick the sand off my shorts. Once we’re both off the blanket, I refold it into a neat square. “I would prefer it if she didn’t have to save me from drowning.”
“She’s a great little swimmer. She’s always making the local paper for her swimming competitions.”
“Really?” There’s a twinge of unexpected pride.
“You’ve been totally clean for two years?” She searches my face.
“Since I was never a boy scout, I’ll swear on the Daisy Network’s honor. I’ll let you decide what that means.” I put my hand on my chest. My drug habit started even before I was on my Daisy show. Ellie is one of the few people who realizes that. There wasn’t much I kept from her.
She shakes her head and turns to walk up the path. “Come on. We’ll start in the pool before we tackle the big, bad ocean,” she says over her shoulder.
I stare after her. Sometimes, she says or does something that reminds me of Ellie. They used to be such great friends. Strange they’ve grown so far apart.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ellie
Present Day
Haven’s laughter floats through the house as I drop my keys and purse on the island. Nikki, under protest, picked up Wyatt and Haven so they could do their kayaking and snorkeling right after school. She could also be a little more flexible in her stance toward Wyatt. She sees the risk in letting them get to know each other, and I’m starting to witness the reward.
I walk out to the back patio, which overlooks the black, rocky cliff and the route to the water. I can’t see any of them, so I wander the narrow path, careful not to slip on the wet stones. Someone’s walked this route a few times already. As soon as I emerge onto the beach and outcrop of rocks, Nikki, Wyatt, and Haven are visible in their snorkel gear. They’re treading water by the coral with their masks propped on their foreheads.
I put my hands on my hips. Wyatt is treading water. That’s a new skill. They haven’t noticed me yet. “Honey, I’m home. What’s for dinner?”
Wyatt catches sight of me first, and his grin causes my heart to drum in my chest. He always used to look at me that way—as though I was the only person in the universe worth noticing.
“We’re pressing buttons,” Nikki yells back.
Our shorthand for ordering takeout. I check my watch. My session with the drama club students at the high school ran over. If kids have questions, I stay until they’re answered. Usually they’re about acting terms, ways to break in, or experiences I’ve had on movie sets. A lot of the curiosity centered on Wyatt today: his addictions, our film together, whether he’s truly better now . . . Exhausting and awkward. I don’t enjoy lying, but I’m protective of my privacy when secrets can be sold. None of them knew Wyatt was on the island, so Calshae and the hotel have done a good job there.
Haven’s bedtime is approaching. Someone needs to order dinner and that might as well be me. Before I can start up the hill again, Wyatt waves.
“Ellie!” His enthusiasm reminds me of Haven. “Watch!” He swims toward me in a ragged but improved front crawl. Treading water and now swimming better. What’d he do? Spend the day watching YouTube clips and teaching himself?
When he’s close enough to shore to get his feet under him, he stands, and the water rushes down his toned chest. I have a hard time making eye contact with the rest of the view on display.
When I land on his face, he’s grinning. “Impressive?” His eyes, almo
st the color of the shallow water, sparkle.
Impressive on so many levels. “What did you do today?”
“I learned to swim.” He puffs out his chest.
“You taught yourself?”
He chuckles. “Nope. I tried to convince Calshae to take me to your school. She stopped me from doing something stupid by teaching me to swim.”
“Calshae, huh?” My heart squeezes at the picture he’s painted. “She must be a hell of a teacher.”
“I’m that good?” His pleased grin widens, and he gestures over his shoulder. “Haven couldn’t get over how much better I was. And this eggbeater thing for treading water—man, so hard.”
Another soft laugh escapes me. The emotions running through me are jumbled together. “Calshae taught you eggbeater?”
“No, Haven did. I was sure I was going to die. But once you get the motion, it’s not so bad. Still stupidly hard, but better than drowning.”
The bitter and the sweet mix in me. We could have been a family for ten years if he’d gotten help. Haven would have had this relationship.
But he’s here now. He’s here.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I focus on the distant houses while I collect myself. I shouldn’t be crying over Haven teaching him the eggbeater or over one of my ex–best friends coming to my rescue.
Wyatt is now in front of me, and water trickles from his hair and along his body. “Ellie?” His voice is soft, curious. “Hey.” He rubs my arm.
Somehow, he’s come closer while I’ve been lost in thought. “Hey, Ellie. Are you okay? Did you have a rough day? Were those little shits at the high school mean to you?”
I choke out a laugh. A tear falls, and I wipe it away. “No, no. I’m okay. It was a good day.”
“You sure? I’ll go to that high school tomorrow and kick ass.” His voice is deep and brimming with the old caring I remember so well. “If someone’s hurt you, Ellie . . .”
We loved each other once, so much. Something on my face makes his brow furrow more. I take a deep, shuddering breath and shove my feelings down. We can’t go back, so we have to find a way forward.
When Stars Fall Page 14
