The final night on the island was spent throwing an inaccurate, probably offensive, Ireland-themed dance party, as the cast would soon be flying to Dublin and Wicklow for the first week of shooting. Since they were the only green things available, all the girls wore grass skirts with their bikini tops, dancing around the bonfire and drinking dry stout. At some point, since Kyle and Jackson had both chugged a beer and performed their tragic interpretations of Irish jigs, it became a game for the girls to try and lure Connor up to do his. But he consistently declined despite their offers of cigars, beer or their own flirtatious lap dances.

“I’m going to embrace my German side tonight,” he declared, relaxing on the oversized chair that he sat in like a king on his throne.

“You’re three-quarters Irish!” Isabel protested. But Connor stayed put, waiting till everyone was good and drunk before he tugged on Peyton’s grass skirt as she passed him by.

“Hi.” She cocked her head good-naturedly, trying to look unsuspicious to the others. “What’s up, party pooper?”

“Shit, if you’re calling me a party pooper then I should really reevaluate my life,” Connor pulled harder on her skirt till she sat tepidly on the arm of his chair. “No one’s looking,” he murmured, running his fingertips along the smooth skin of her lower back. He peered up at her. “You know when they all go to Ireland, you’re going to spend the week with me at my duplex,” he said, as if that were some fun fact she happened not to know.

“Really,” Peyton lifted an eyebrow, amused. “How do you know I’m not going to Ireland too?”

“Because Russell’s going to babysit Kensie and I saw that your name wasn’t on the flight.”

“Okay then, Sherlock. But why aren’t you going to Ireland?” she countered, trying to keep the subject far from New York and Connor’s duplex. His place attracted more paparazzi than Kensie and her friends did on a Friday night. The last thing she needed was to be spotted there. “You’re the writer. Don’t they need you?”

“The scenes they’re filming there are short. They won’t need rewrites. And I need a vacation because when they get back I’ll be going to all these frilly events and premieres that I normally keep a very safe distance from.”

“Why?”

“Your uncle. I said I’d take Kensie and talk about the movie here and there. Plant the seeds of publicity.”

“Mm. Fun stuff.”

“Yeah.”

Peyton dug her toes in the sand. “I wish I could go to Ireland. I mean not with these guys,” she clarified with a laugh. “Just someday. To travel without Kensie. Not that I don’t love her I just – ”

“You know you don’t have to explain to me.”

“Right. Forgot.”

Connor leaned back in his chair, gazing at the grass that cascaded around Peyton’s smooth, tanned thighs. He reached to touch them for a second but snatched his hand back as if suddenly remembering that they could be seen. “So, if you could go anywhere right now, where would it be?”

“Tuscany.”

“That was fast. Why?”

“Sunflowers.”

Connor laughed. “Okay then.”

Peyton flashed him a look. “You don’t know how beautiful sunflowers are until you’re standing in a field of them and there’s nothing but sunflowers for as far as you can see. In every direction,” she said, her voice dreamier than she meant to let it sound. “It’s like you’re surrounded by a million baby suns.”

“I believe that’s why they’re called sunflowers.”

Peyton rolled her eyes. “Fuckin’ Connor. I hate you.”

He broke into big grin, visibly charmed despite her words. Head cocked, he sat forward. “Tell me why you love sunflowers.”

“I don’t know. I had sunflower wallpaper in my room growing up.”

Connor was dubious. “That’s it? Didn’t you ever get to see a field of them?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about it.”

Peyton narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he actually cared. “I don’t… really tell this story often,” she murmured, feeling it come forward from the very back of her head.

She had good memories of sunflowers when she didn’t think too far about the anecdote behind them. But as she gazed at Connor and his handsome, surprisingly undivided attention, she found her lips starting to explain away.

“Okay, well. When I was nine, we went to Tuscany because my Aunt Bree said she and Russell would pay for my mom and me, so of course my mom jumped on that opportunity. But I got sick when I got there. It was just the flu but I spent the whole week in the villa with the nanny and sometimes Kensie if my aunt let her stay home to keep me company. So on the last day, since I was finally feeling a bit better, everyone told me to pick where we all would go. And I said the sunflower fields,” Peyton said, finishing her story with a shrug. Connor gave her an odd smile.

“That’s it?” he asked. “And then what?”

“And then I saw the flowers and they were beautiful. And I ran through them with my arms stretched out and sat in the middle of the field for an hour with Kensie while our parents got bored and hung out in the car.” Peyton laughed, looking down at her wiggling toes when she thought about how happy and carefree she and Kensie were back then. They still played board games and neither even had a phone yet. It would be another few years before they started caring about boys. Peyton shrugged. “It was just so bright and beautiful. I still think it’s gotta be physically impossible for someone to stand in a sunflower field and not be happy.”

Connor bit down hard on his lip as she finished her story. Ah, shit.

He had to be grinning like an idiot. That was the only reason he ever chewed on his lip. But he couldn’t help it. There was a glow in Peyton’s cheeks as she spoke about her precious flowers, and a smile he’d never seen before on those perfect fucking lips. Goddammit. Suddenly, he resented every person around them. He wished they were gone so he could be free to pull Peyton into his lap and put his hands all over her body. Christ, he wanted so badly to just suck on that perfect bottom lip of hers.

But there was no way he was getting away with that tonight - not with everyone around and still wide awake. So shifting in his seat, he returned his attention to her story.

“Seems like a perfectly happy memory,” he said with a small frown. “Why don’t you like talking about it?”

Peyton was quiet. The ends of her mouth fell and her eyes clouded over. But just as her lips parted to speak, she was interrupted by a laugh that sounded more like a shriek.

Not so shockingly, it was Poppy.

“What now?” Peyton flew off the chair instinctively, immediately looking for Kensie since she sensed that Poppy’s screechy delight was at her cousin’s expense.

And of course, it was. Standing behind Poppy were the other girls, including Kensie. Despite her beet red cheeks, she tried to laugh with Poppy but Peyton could see her lip quivering. The girl was mortified.

Quickly, Peyton figured out what was going on. The song ‘Burn The Love’ was playing from Poppy’s phone, probably because she had starred in the music video last year, which went viral for its steamy choreography. Apparently, she’d been teaching the other girls how to do her dance until Kensie “fucked it up royally.”

“I’m sorry but there was nothing sexy about that! That was… oh God. So embarrassing. Sweetie, watch me - okay? This is how you do it,” Poppy said, repeating the routine’s most famous hip-rolling move. Peyton wanted to roll her eyes out of her head, wishing that the guys wouldn’t encourage Poppy by whistling and hooting. She visibly basked in the attention. “See? That’s why they call it the Man Magnet,” Poppy grinned at Kensie, forcing Kensie to try again – only to laugh at her a second time.

“Seriously?” Peyton seethed as Poppy resumed her dance. She was getting into character now, putting on bedroom eyes that she directed at Peyton. Um… what? Peyton blinked. But then she realized that Poppy wasn’t looking at her.

She was looking past her at Connor.

“Mm-hm… this gets you out of your chair doesn’t it, Mr. Schaffer?” Poppy purred.

Snapping her head around, Peyton turned to see Connor standing, wearing a crooked, almost lecherous grin on his lips as he gravitated toward Poppy.

What in the actual the fuck?

What the hell was he doing? A few days without sex and he was going to let himself get seduced by Poppy Somerville’s stupid, try-hard dance?

“Oh, yeah. That’s right, come to mama,” Poppy murmured, rolling her hips slow and wide as Connor took his time ambling over, cocky as ever while taking lazy swigs from his beer. Jesus Christ. Peyton couldn’t tell if it was the bonfire reflecting in Poppy’s eyes or the actual manifestation of her incredible lust. Once Connor reached her, she moaned, licked her lips and held her arms out to him.

“Mm-hm, I know you want it,” she murmured.

But then Connor walked right past her.

“Actually,” he started, slipping an arm around Kensie’s waist. Another swig of beer and he grinned. “Kind of liked the way Kensie did it.”

And as they began to dance, so did the others, eyeing one another and cringing for Poppy as she stood frozen where she was, shock and insult distorting her face. Then finally, with a bratty “uck” sound, she stomped her way back into the house.

“’Night,” Peyton said as Poppy huffed like a five-year-old and kicked sand past her. Watching her go, Peyton couldn’t help but grin. It was relatively tame karma for a girl as mean as her but it was satisfying nonetheless.

Turning back to the bonfire, Peyton caught Connor’s quick wink before he went back to dancing Kensie’s embarrassment away, laughing with her as her bubbly voice rambled on about something or another.

And just like that, crisis averted.

Thank you, she mouthed to Connor before sinking with a smile into his king’s throne. It had to be the first time the whole trip that she felt actually calm, peaceful. Poppy had been vanquished, Kensie was now in good hands, and everyone was flying home tomorrow.

Bringing her knees up to her chest, Peyton exhaled and relaxed. A placid smile drifted onto her lips as she watched them.

Or rather, just him.