I press my palms tightly together between my knees and try to ignore the knot growing in my stomach. The universe has been conspiring hard to get Knox and me together. By universe, I mean my parents, and in all likelihood, Knox’s grandfather. I know this because of where we are right now—in his Mercedes convertible, driving together to the Hamptons on the night before the long weekend. Mr. Steele left a day early, and my father had an unexpected event to attend upstate, so Mom suggested—strongly—that I’d be better off catching a ride with Knox tonight.

Better off.

Right.

I glance over at him as he focuses on the mostly dark freeway, lit up by only his headlights in some sections, and wonder if I can take another mile of silence. My chest is weighted down, tight with anticipation, heavy with uncertainty.

“Everything all right?” he asks.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Sliding my seatbelt past my shoulder, I duck my head down between my legs and hope I won’t puke. Not that there’s anything that’ll come up. I barely ate at lunch, had no dinner while I packed, and now, it’s after nine at night. Maybe it’s hunger.

“Hang on, I’ll pull over.” He flicks on the turn signal, checks his rearview mirror, and changes lanes from the fast lane to the right shoulder, the wheel grumbling as they roll onto the gravel for the last few feet. After stopping, he gets out of the driver’s side and comes around to my side, opening the door. He reaches down and stretches an arm over me to undo my seatbelt. Then he stands to his full height and stretches his arm out to me.

“Come with me. Let’s get you some air.”

I unfold myself and timidly take his hand, letting him use his body weight to help me stand, and as I do, he gathers me in the warmth of his chest and holds onto me, one arm at my upper back and the other close to the tip of my spine. I relax into him, my head buried in his chest, which is probably a good thing, because I’m not sure if I can find the words to share what I feel.

“I need to apologize,” he says out of the blue as we stand there.

“Why? Were you a part of this whole ‘get Knox and Isabelle on a road trip together’ plan?”

He chuckles low. “No, I didn’t have any part of that. And no, I’m not saying sorry for that either.”

“Why then?”

He looks out at the darkness for a short while before speaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you when I left for college. I was a selfish prick. I’m still a selfish prick. One who didn’t and still doesn’t deserve a loyal, devoted friend like you. Then, I made things worse by using you at the engagement party. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed every second of hooking up with you...but friends don’t fuck their best friends. I might’ve ruined what we had. I broke us, Belle. That’s all on me. I’m deeply sorry and I hope you can forgive me. I wanted to get that out in the open before we spend this weekend together. And I want to start over. I’ll admit that I don’t have a clue what starting over looks like. Having you once, kissing you, getting hot and heavy at the engagement party, well I don’t know if I can stand not having you again...but if that’s what it takes to go back to being friends, so be it. Bottom line is I couldn’t have gotten through the last few weeks without you. Seeing you at dinner, those texts, they might seem like a small thing, but they weren’t. You always seem to know exactly what I need and when I need it. It’s like you see past all my bullshit and can read me from miles away. That’s why I need you. So however you see us, I’m in.”

I look up at him just as a car approaches us along the freeway. Its high beams hit his face so directly that it casts sharp lines and shadows along his features. Yet again I find myself in awe of how handsome my best friend is. I don’t want to hear his apology. I want his lips to do something other than talk, preferably on my mouth or anywhere along my body.

“What do you think?” he asks. “Do I get another chance? Maybe you need time to think about it over the weekend and let—”

“Kiss me.” My body sways into his chest and I lift up onto my tiptoes, meeting his awaiting lips.

He’s so gentle this time. He peruses the seam of my mouth, slowly parting them open. He takes his time as his tongue pushes past and connects with mine. He explores lazily, the tip running against the roof of my mouth as need builds all through my body. Just as slowly, he pulls from the kiss and presses his lips on my forehead.

“What are we doing, Belle?” he whispers onto my skin.

“I’m not sure I can go back to what we were,” I admit. “You’re right. You ruined us...and now, I want more. But promise me something.”

“Anything you want.”

“I’m not making out with you at your grandfather’s place this weekend. There’ll be too many eyes. Too much meddling is already in the works, and the last thing I need is my parents thinking their scheming is working.”

He rumbles out a laugh. “Pops is on the scheming train too. Maybe the three of them are colluding.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them.” My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that it needs food. “Hey, is there anywhere we can stop for something to eat when we get into town?”

“Sure,” he motions for me to return to my seat, and I lower into the car feeling relief. “Fast food it is.”

Knox clicks a remote in his car toward a massive wrought iron gate and it opens automatically. As he pulls up onto the long, circular brick driveway of their Hamptons mansion, I start to feel nervous. I know exactly why. We’re about to spend a weekend with a lot of life-long friends, family and acquaintances, some of whom will be sitting on the sidelines, hoping for a love connection between Knox and me. In addition to that, it feels like this holiday will be overshadowed by something dark and ominous. Like we’re waiting for a shoe to drop. Mom mentioned that Mr. Steele may be ill, and she believes this is the weekend he’ll come out into the open about it. It would be so much more convenient to know what I’m walking into.

Perhaps I could’ve asked Knox what it was about, but honestly, my curiosity was in no way stronger than my desire for calm. A long time ago, I came to the conclusion that people will share themselves in their own time, and not a second sooner. I also learned that I’m damned patient, and it’s not that I don’t care. It just feels better when friends are free to open up at their own pace, of their own volition.

In any event, whether he uses this weekend to break the news to us or not, I’ll be okay. Knox seems to be handling whatever it is, taking it in stride. And as it deals with his grandfather, it’s no one else’s business.

He stops the car in front of a large three-door garage and turns off the engine. “I’ll get our bags. Pops sent all the serving staff home for the long weekend this year.”

“I’ll help,” I tell him. He may be used to butlers and maids waiting on him hand and feet, but I do everything myself.

He grabs our suitcases before I can step out into the noticeably cooler night air. A light breeze is blowing, wafting in the scent of the ocean. The Atlantic is on the other side of this mansion.

I follow him down the side of the garage until we reach the back of the house.

“Is there a cabana waiting for us that we’ll stay in?” I ask, because normally, his grandfather would assign me and my parents to a guest room inside.”

“I made an executive decision. You’re staying in the pool house with me.”

“Uh,” I start, searching for the right way to put what I’m about to say. “Don’t you think that my staying in your room will play right into what our families are hoping for?”

“Belle, you know I don’t give two fucks about what people think. But relax. There are three bedrooms inside. You won’t be sleeping in my bed...unless you ask real nicely.”

“Tease,” I say, punching his upper arm as he searches his set of keys for the one that opens the front door of the pool house.

He rests a hand at my waist, motioning for me to go inside ahead of him. I step into the dark space and hear him as he flicks on a light switch to the foyer. My mouth drops open. It’s clear to me that someone has done a major renovation on this place. It’s no pool house. Not with marble pillars and gleaming granite floors, and massive crystal chandeliers sending beams of sparkling light through the space.

“This is nice,” I mouth.

“Yes, I had Pops’ decorator design it just the way I wanted.”

“You have good taste.”

He smiles down at me suggestively. “The best.”

My heart does a little flip in my chest, and I sort of wish I hadn’t asked him to kiss me on the way here. It’s bad enough there’s all this chemistry between us. Now that it’s in the open, he’s that much more comfortable pointing it out.

“The guest rooms are to your left and they each have their own attached bathroom, so feel free to choose whichever one you like most,” he informs me. “It’ll only be the two of us in here. And my master bedroom is at the end of the hall.”

“All right.”

“Pops is probably fast asleep. If you’re tired, don’t worry about setting an alarm. He’s up for breakfast super early, but the weekend event staff will pop in to prepare meals and such.”

I nod and follow him down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Sounds good. Yes, I’m pretty beat. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in weeks.”

“No?” He puts the bags down and opens the first guest room, flicking on the main set of lights inside. “How come?”

“You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

“You. Us. Seeing you again...I don’t know. That night in the limo.”

“Right. I’m sorry about that.”

I turn and lean my head into the bedroom. I’m sure it’s perfect, but I’m curious about what the others are like. This one is gorgeous, decorated in Venetian creams and light-colored vintage furniture, with airy, flowy curtains draped around a king-size four-poster bed. “Don’t be sorry,” I tell him without turning around. “Not anymore. We’ve worked it out and got it all out in the open tonight. I’m pretty sure I’ll sleep like a baby now. Especially in a room like this. Do they all have the same decor?”

I feel the warmth of his body at my back, and his arms snake around my waist, his fingers lacing together at the front of my stretchy jeans waistband. “They’re all different,” he whispers at my ear, and I feel the stubble of his jaw graze my neck. “That’s why I left your bag in the hall.”

“Oh, okay.”

He kisses a spot on my neck and I let out a helpless whimper. “I’ll show you the other two rooms and you can decide where you want to be then.”

“Okay.”

“Unless you want to skip all that and just stay with me.”

I laugh nervously. “Probably not the best idea.”

“It’s a big bed. And I’m a big boy, Belle. I can behave.”

“I think I need to sleep alone...I mean, without you tempting me like you are right now.”

“I’m laying it on thick, aren’t I?”

“You really are.”

“All right.” He loosens his grip around my waist, turning to head down the hall. I follow him to the next room, missing his warmth. “This one’s more Avant Garde Parisian style.”

I take in the subtle palette of neutral linens and blends of gold trim finishes, with accents of red in the artwork. The furniture is all Chippendale style antique pieces, with a minimalist queen-side bed with no headboard. “I like this too,” I mutter, and a long yawn escapes my mouth. “Sorry, seeing all these beds must have an effect on me. Can I see the last one?”

He walks to the doorway at the end of the hall, bypassing one room. “Take a look at this one first.”

He slides on a dimmer switch, and I’m floored by the vaulted ceilings, exposed wooden beams painted a dark mahogany, with modern, square chandeliers high above us, a king-sized bed against one wall, with its button back headboard and matching armchairs in one corner, and the floor to ceiling windows looking out at a beautifully lit turquoise infinity pool that seems to stretch into the ocean. It’s dark outside, but the white capped ocean waves are clear in the distance. It’s stunning. I can imagine waking up to the blue ocean waves rolling in.

“This is your room, isn’t it?” I ask. “The master bedroom?”

“Yeah. But I’m willing to share. If you promise not to misbehave.”

“I’ll just take the first room,” I announce and the tremor in my voice betrays me. I don’t trust myself in a bed with this man. I’m liable to be the one who makes the first move.

“Hold on.” He pulls me close again and kisses the top of my head. “Go ahead. You can stay here. I’ll take the room beside it. Just don’t be too alarmed if I pop in to grab some of my clothes in the closet.”

“No. I can’t steal your room.”

“I insist.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Hang on.” He heads back down the hall and brings my suitcase back with him, resting it on an upholstered bench at the foot of the bed. Returning to me, he runs his hand down my back and presses me into his hips. I instantly feel the thick length of his semi hard-on, although I get the sense that his move was more of an innocent gesture than anything. “Sleep well, Belle. See you in the morning.”

“Good night.”

“Holler if you need anything. I’ll be in the room you missed.”

“Thanks.”

Knox pulls the bedroom door closed behind him as he leaves, and I pop open my suitcase, changing into an oversized t-shirt. After brushing my teeth, I turn down the dimmer switch and climb into bed. His bed. With the covers around me, I feel so at home in this room that I close my eyes and soon drift off, promising that I’ll wake up early enough to take a long run along the beach.