by Jillian Dodd
(Lighting all the votive candles Aiden brought)
(They kiss)
I need to tell you something.
AIDEN
(Sits on the edge of the bed)
What?
KEATYN
(Stands in front of him)
I’ve been lying to you. Actually, I’ve been lying to everyone about something. And I need you to know.
AIDEN
(Looks concerned)
Okay.
KEATYN
I came to Eastbrooke because I was being stalked. My last name isn’t Monroe. Well, technically, it is because it was legally changed, I think. I’m not really sure about that. I used to be Keatyn Douglas. And my mom doesn’t work in oil and gas. But she is in France. And her name is Abby Johnston.
AIDEN
(Stands up in shock)
MOON BOY
Readers coined the phrase Moon Boy as a way to refer to the guy Keatyn would end up with. This boy was the topic of much discussion and debate. The saying goes that you have to kiss a lot of frogs in order to find your prince.
Keatyn dreamed of going to high school and pictured it like a teen movie. She’d write scripts for her perfect life. Scenes of becoming popular. Magical parties where she’d meet a cute boy, he’d kiss her, and they’d fall in love. Scenes where the captain of the basketball team would ask her to dance; they’d kiss, and fall in love. Scenes where that popular boy would kiss her in the moonlight and ask her to be his girlfriend. Scenes where they are in the center of a school dance slowly swaying while everyone does a choreographed dance around them. Scenes where he’d shoot the winning basket and be on top of the team’s shoulders, but would find her in the crowd and blow her a kiss.
Keatyn already knows exactly what she wants in a guy, and she spells it out to readers from almost the very first page of the series.
When her prom night doesn’t go as planned, she sits on the beach and makes a wish on the moon—which is really what sets her story in motion. In every well-written book, you start out by seeing a character in their normal world. Then there’s something called the Inciting Incident. It’s the moment that changes everything.
In all the screenplays I’ve ever written, prom night is always the climax. That pivotal night when everything changes. The night I’m supposed to lose my virginity to my perfect boyfriend. The boy who’s been dying to have sex with me, but who says I’m worth the wait. The boy who would know prom night is the night.
In the limo, he’d wag the hotel key in front of my face and kiss me passionately. He’d tell me I’m beautiful and he can’t wait any longer. At the hotel, there would be rose petals, candles, and champagne. He’d kiss me and tell me I’m beautiful again. Then he wouldn’t wait any longer. He’d slide the straps of my dress off my shoulders and carry me to the bed, where he’d ravish my body.
I plop down into the sand and let out a big sigh.
Obviously, the casting director screwed up. Sander is not willing to do all that is required for his role.
I think it’s time to cut my losses and scrap the project. Start over.
Earlier this week, I mentioned to RiAnne that I was considering breaking up with him. She said, You’re the perfect couple. Why would you do that?
But I know she’s wrong.
The perfect couple would be doing it in a hotel room right now.
I look out at the ocean glittering in the moonlight and wonder where he is.
Where is my perfect boy?
Could he be staring at the moon at this exact moment, wishing for me, too?
Sometimes I swear I can almost feel him.
Can’t live without me. Can’t breathe when I’m around. He kisses me hard, pushes me onto the bed, and does all the other stuff they talk about. And it’s not just the sex that I want.
I want it all.
A hot guy; one who’s sweet and sexy at the same time. One who wants me so badly he can barely control himself. One who stands up for what he believes in.
One who wouldn’t care what his friends thought.
And, maybe, one who’s been staring at the moon, too.
As the series progressed, readers chose their favorites. Teams were formed. I hope you all fell in love (or, maybe just lust) with a lot of the boys Keatyn interacted with.
Sander, Brooklyn, Cush, Aiden, Riley, Dallas, Dawson, Jake, Damian, Cooper, and Knox.
I even poked a little fun at the phenomenon when talking about the movies at the end of the series.
Although, in the first movie, most viewers were torn between Cush, Brooklyn, Dawson, and Aiden, by the second one, so many were Team Aiden. It’s kind of funny that many moviegoers didn’t even realize the movies were based on a real couple. They’ve been heating up social media sites and online forums claiming that if Keatyn didn’t chose Aiden they would all die. Millions wore four-leaf clover t-shirts and tweeted #ifly.
But by the end of Love Me, regardless of who readers wanted, Keatyn would decide between Aiden and Brooklyn.
Two boys.
A country apart.
Who share the same birthday.
One whose name means fire. The other, whose name means water.
One who represents her old life. The other her new.
And both, who made a wish on the moon.
I just realized my worlds don’t have clear-cut lines of separation anymore.
Brooklyn = Malibu. Waves. France. Europe. The beach. Sunrise.
Aiden = Connecticut. Eastbrooke. New York. The loft. Sunset.
I hadn’t realized it, but Aiden has been invading what should be Brooklyn territory ever since we were in St. Croix. The surf. The sand.
And, now, he’s about to invade France.
The place B came to be with me. Dropped everything. Got on a plane. For me. In the hammock is where we confessed our love for each other. It wasn’t long after that we shared our first time. Our summer of waves.
Before my birthday party, I hoped my worlds would come together.
Until they were standing there in front of me.
Sander. Cush. Brooklyn.
Each one representing a different choice. A different life.
A different me.
But I didn’t need my worlds to come together.
I needed myself to come together.
Aiden kisses my temple. “You have that faraway look in your eye. What are you thinking?”
“That I’ve changed a lot since the last time I was there.”
I stare into the green eyes of the boy who has helped me realize that I don’t need separate lives but, rather, should find someone who fits comfortably into them all.
From the moment Keatyn met Aiden, Brooklyn didn’t really stand much of a chance.
It would make this section really long if I pulled every single amazing Aiden scene from the series so, instead, I created the Swoonworthy List.
This list contains all four hundred and seventy-one of the dreamy things Aiden did and said.
Which, honestly, is a pretty big indication in and of itself that he was always the guy for Keatyn.
“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.”
That deep, sexy laugh. Grrr, baby, grr.
“You look like my next girlfriend.”
“I brought you some lunch.”
“I’d like to do nothing but stare into your eyes.”
A perfect four-leaf clover.
A kiss on the cheek.
Wanting to kick the crap out of Riley for sucking cotton candy off my fingers.
“You look pretty. I really like your hair like that.”
Holds my hand.
The Ferris wheel.
A slow, perfect, time-stood-still, fireworks-in-my-eyes kind of kiss.
A push-me-over-the-edge-of-the-love-cliff smile.
Kissing my hand. Like freaking Prince Charming.
The kind of kiss that makes me feel like he’s kissing my soul.
Fixing my lips.
“A dance for every point
?”
“Twenty-nine dances. That pretty much makes you my date.”
A black Prada suit with black/silver cowboy boots.
Twinkle lights on the ceiling.
A twenty-nine song playlist.
“‘Now a soft kiss—Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.’”
“You’re different, Boots.”
“I don’t think you could belong to anyone else.”
Tractor beam eyes.
“Tutor me.”
Kisses his glove and blows me a kiss after he scores.
“I’ll be there, whenever you need me.”
“Tutoring with food.”
Ordering my favorite pizza.
“I doubt you’re ever gross.”
“I’m so glad I suck at French.”
“Rawwwrrr.”
“What about fuck?”
“We’ll be dating by then, but trust me, it’s gonna happen. And when you say it to me in French, I wanna make sure I know what you’re saying. You know, when you start begging me.”
“B-Moi.”
“We will definitely go to France together. Maybe I’ll ask you to marry me there. Top of the Eiffel Tower, sunset?”
“It’s sorta like fate.”
“Well, it may be cool, but it sucks. I wanna hear your weekend with Dawson sucked. I want to be tutored in my room, so we can have some privacy. I also want you to stop flipping your ponytail around. Your hair smells like cotton candy and it reminds me of the stupid Ferris wheel.”
“You’re just trying to tell me you love me, it’s okay. I already know.”
This text: I miss you
“You should love me.”
“I love dancing with you.”
“Vos lèvres sont mon béatitude.” (Your lips are my bliss.)
Getting my phone out of jail.
Hershey’s Bliss candy.
“That day when you kicked the soccer ball at my head, the way the sun was shining behind you all I really saw was your face, outlined by golden rays. You looked kinda like a goddess. I honestly thought I was dreaming. Then, when the soccer ball went whizzing by my head, I realized you were real. I’m glad you’re real.”
A glass four-leaf clover for luck.
“You in boots is my favorite. Reminds me of the first day we met.”
A marker-drawn, green four-leaf clover outlined in black on a football.
That moment when we come up for air, he’s still holding me in his arms. And we have this moment. I’m so pissed at him. But we’re so close. Body to body. Face to face. We just stare at each other for a moment. It’s like he’s trying to memorize my face with those gorgeous green eyes.
Almost kisses.
Talking on my neck.
“Too bad I'm not a vampire. I’d bite you. Make you mine.”
“Just because sex is good with someone, doesn't mean you’re destined to be with them. Imagine what it will be like with the guy you’re really supposed to be with. Your true love.”
Picking me up and twirling me around after he passed his French test.
“You’ll be with me.”
“I promise not to pretend punch your head ever again.”
Our spot in the chapel.
Telling me everything would be okay.
Leans his helmet against my forehead instead of running to the bench.
“You know, you're even beautiful when you cry.”
Telling Riley about Whitney.
The kind of smile that makes me want to drag him to a little chapel in the woods, say I do, and make him the last boy I ever kiss.
Grabbing my pinkie with his.
“You’re the only one at school who knows I can dance like this.”
“Love at first sight, huh?”
“I think being just your friend will be fun.”
Elle ressentait la meme chose. (She felt the same way.)
Always having cake vodka just for me.
Knowing how I flip my hair and that when I’m mad I put my hand on my hip.
Thinking I have a very expressive face and telling me I belong on stage.
"If I didn't need you here to tutor me, I'd suggest you quit school, go to Hollywood, and start auditioning."
His hand on my knee.
“It’s agreed then. I’ll be your arm candy.”
“Are you telling me that will be your dying wish? It’s the last thing I want to do. Have his lips on mine.”
“Just catching you.”
“The harem will wait.”
Pinning me against the brick wall, moving his leg between mine, and pushing his chest tightly against mine
Just hugging me.
“You should have faith in the people you love.”
“Maybe the guy you’re with isn’t worthy of your love.”
“Do you think true love is bullshit or do you believe in it?”
Asking about true love under an almost full moon.
“I like to hammer things. I’m good at screwing too. That didn’t come out quite right. I meant that I’m good with a screw gun. I’m good with lots of power tools.”
His godly, powerful tool.
“I’m good at all kinds of screwing.”
“Trust me. When we do it, it will so not be gross. It will be amazing. Best you’ll ever have.”
“I think I’ll leave it off, just for you. You can think about us naked. Hammering. Nailing. Pounding. Screwing.”
“Sunsets are like fingerprints. No two are ever the same.”
“Alberto Moretti Arfango. I found them online at Barneys. Had to have them.”
“You’re afraid to like me.”
A soft cotton western shirt with pearl snap buttons, Rag & Bone jeans, and a pair of brown leather cowboy boots. The boots are scuffed and well-worn.
Showing me a beautiful sunset.
“What you said about only caring about what the people you love think. It was something I needed to hear.”
Risking embarrassment for the people you love.
“I did it for all the people that I love. Did you love it?”
“That’s not what I asked. Did you love it?”
A marker drawn four-leaf clover on his arm.
“Points for dances, Round 3? I had someone draw it to match your note. I needed some of that luck today.”
Keeping my note.
“That was really brave. New girl. New school. To take that chance.”
“Well, since I’m feeling lucky. What do you say? Points for Dances, Round 4?”
A grey Armani suit, the palest of blue shirts, an artistic gray and blue striped tie, and by far the coolest shoes of the night.
A little wink.
“I’d like to produce and sell my own wine.”
“A night like that would be magical. You’d want to share it with someone you love.”
“If you need arm candy, I’ll be there.”
“I want to make a wine for charity.”
“Come on. Look at you. You flash that little pout and boys fall at your feet.”
“The more I find out about you, the more I want to know.”
“Sex doesn’t equal love.”
“It’s a peace offering. Get it? Piece of cake. Peace offering?”
A ceiling covered with hundreds of little glow-in-the-dark stars.
“I did it because I think it’s time you finally knew that the stars were always for you. Always. Only. Ever. For you.”
“Every night when you go to sleep, I know you’ll see the stars and think of me. Sweet dreams, Boots.”
“When we sleep together, it's not going to be because of a bet.”
Talking about people inspiring him and the sunsets on the Eastbrooke video.
“Fine. I’d like it to be like a date. I just don’t know what complicated means.”
“So, is he wooing you? Is he taking you out? Being sweet? Making you fall for him? If you have to think about it, the answer is no.”
/> A car that is almost as gorgeous as he is.
Opening the car door for me.
The way his hand feels on top of mine. The way he presses down on it slightly when he shifts. It’s like he’s in control.
“Boots, we’re gonna be a lot more than friends by then.”
“I think anything we do together will be fun.”
“I definitely want you naked. Just not yet. We should take things slow. Be friends.”
“I want this feather. Can I take it off?”
Running the feather up the side of my neck—among other places.
One single finger following the outline of my dress. On. My. Naked. Skin.
Only using a feather on me.
My feather earring attached to his backpack.
“I might want to use it again.”
Giving me his sweatpants when mine were wet.
A complicated-looking thing with his hands. His thumbs and pointer fingers form touching double O’s. Then the rest of his fingers form sort of a bridge above the O’s.
Sparks flying when our fingers touch to form a four-leaf clover.
“It’s going to take both of us to make this work. I heard Dawson took you on a date tonight.”
“Doesn’t matter if he woos you. I’m going to win.”
“We’re going to take things slow.”
“I’d wait for you forever. You don’t get it, do you?”
“We’re going to be together for a long time. There's no need to rush things when you know that.”
“Did you not feel it? Was it just me?”
“Don’t fight me anymore.”
In the pouring rain: The. Best. Kiss. Of. My. Entire. Life.
“Boots, love isn't like a cute pair of shoes. You can't try it on to see if it fits and walk out the door wearing it.”
“You told me sometimes true love takes a bit. Do you believe that?”
“But sometimes the girl is used to getting things instantly. And probably the guy is too. And maybe they need to slow down.”
“You don’t have to have sex to know. Sex isn't love.”
