"Cade!" 

Andreas shouted for me from the top of the stairs, and I waved at him as I made my way through the packed club. 

"I'm so glad you came," he said over the music.

I grinned at him. "How could I miss it?" I said, looking around at the table behind us. "Looks like everyone is here, too."

I followed him towards the table where the hotel crew was sitting. No sign of Peyton just yet, though, and I had to admit I was a little disappointed when I didn't see her among everyone else. I waved at Bianca and she responded with a big smile. The table was full of drinks and shots, and everyone had a glass in their hand. It looked like it was going to be a wild night. 

I sat down next to Bianca and she bumped my shoulder playfully. 

"You look nice," she said. "Any special reason you're wearing all this cologne? Seems like you marinated in it."

"Shut up." I laughed. "Hey, did anyone come looking for me earlier?"

"No," she replied, looking confused. "Who do you mean?"

"I asked my friend to come," I said. "I guess he'll be here any minute."

Just that second, I saw Tristan step into the club. He looked around for me, and I got up from my seat and waved him over. He was next to us once he made his way through the crowd, and he winked at Bianca the moment he laid eyes on her.

"Hey man," he said, clapping me on the back. I returned the gesture. "Who's the hottie?"

Bianca rolled her eyes, got up, and shook his hand, making him wince.

"Wow," he said. "A handshake that could break bones. Nice."

"I have a name," she replied stiffly. "Bianca." 

"I have a name, too," he said. "Tristan."

"Good for you," she said, and turned her back on him to talk to Andreas. Tristan grinned at me and I knew well enough that meant trouble, but I could only laugh and shake my head. 

He sat down next to me, and for the next twenty minutes we chatted about everything and anything, being careful not to say a word about my true identity. I'd prepared Tristan for the party, but I was tense and worried he'd forget all about my instructions if he kept downing drinks like he was doing. The more he drank, the less his eyes focused on me. They kept floating to Bianca, staring at her like she was a sweet little treat for him to nibble on. I didn't have time to worry about it, though. When the club doors opened for the umpteenth time and I saw a new group of people walk in, my focus was gone already.

Allegra was there, wearing a dress so revealing I felt a little embarrassed even glancing at her. But I didn't want to, anyway.

Because right next to her, there was my girl.

Peyton wore a dress that was doing all kinds of fucked up things to my head. It was pristine white, hugging her curves so tightly it was almost indecent. The dress reached down to her knees, though, and the sleeves covered her arms. Still, the tight fabric clung to every inch of her body, accentuating her beautiful shape. She wore spiky black heels with a red sole that were fucking with my head almost as much as the dress was, and her hair was down in soft, sexy waves. 

I could barely keep my eyes off her.

She looked around the club, and her eyes locked on mine. Her beautiful face was illuminated by the backdrop of endless strobe lights on the ceiling and walls, glittering like hundreds of envious eyes wishing they could be sitting where I was right now, staring at this girl.

She smiled timidly and gave me a little wave. I stood up and waited for the girls to join us at our table. Peyton moved like a goddess, her hips swaying, those high heels making her totter like a runway model as she approached with her sister. I barely even noticed Allegra, didn't give a shit about what she was doing. My eyes were solely focused on Peyton as she came over, giving Bianca a tight hug and sitting down between us. She finally looked at me, her beautiful brown eyes sparkling with mischief as she turned them to face me.

"Hey," she said, and I grinned at her.

"Hi," I replied, a stupid goofy grin on my face. I couldn't help myself. Despite all the shit I was going to have to tell her, I couldn't stop smiling. She was so fucking beautiful, so very special.

"You having fun?" she asked. Her voice was barely audible over the thumping bass, and yet it seemed like the music faded away when she spoke. I was addicted to her voice, to every word she spoke. I wanted her so badly I had to readjust my jeans so as not to show evidence of it. 

"More fun now that you're here," I said. She gave me a smile which lit up my world. "You want a drink?"

She nodded, and I motioned to Tristan to walk to the bar with me. He gushed about Bianca while we ordered the drinks, and I just rolled my eyes at his comments.

"Seriously, man," I told him. "Don't mess with this girl. She's Peyton's friend and I also happen to like her a whole lot. I wouldn't enjoy fucking up that pretty face of yours if you hurt her."

"You think I'm pretty?" He grinned, grabbing the drinks the bartender slid toward us while I paid for them.

"That's what you got from my whole speech?" I asked, shaking my head. "You're delusional, my friend."

"Not at all," he said. "I'm just hoping Bianca shares the sentiment."

We returned to the table where we were greeted by loud cheers as we set down the drinks. I handed Peyton her Long Island Ice Tea and smiled. I couldn't help myself; I kept staring at her. She was mesmerizing. So sexy I just wanted to pull her onto my lap and make her body grind against mine.

I couldn't even fucking talk. All I could do was stare at the gorgeous creature next to me. I was craving her company, not just because thoughts of her stunning body had been invading my mind the whole weekend. I needed her sweet little laugh, her advice, the easy way we talked about every little thing under the sun. I needed her.

Too bad I had to tell her the truth once I got her alone. After that, all I could do was pray she forgave me.

We started chatting, although I let her carry the conversation. I just wanted to listen to her, remember the way she pronounced every word, the way her lips curled up into a smile when she saw me watching her closely. She was so fucking perfect. I knew I had to tell her everything after the party, and she wasn’t going to like it, but I was going to enjoy one last good look at that sinful mouth, at her stunning eyes, before I smashed our fairytale to pieces.

"Hey," I finally said, and she set her glass down, her eyes on mine. "Do you want to dance?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Come on, let's do it."

She pulled Bianca up despite her protests, and Tristan joined us by default. It looked like he was really into my coworker, and I prayed he wouldn't break her heart, because then I'd have to break his face.

We made our way to the dancefloor, and Peyton giggled as I pulled her toward me. A popular electronic song came on, and the club felt like it had a heartbeat as the staff of the Mirabella gathered on the dancefloor.

We danced like it was our last night on Earth. I danced with Peyton, Bianca, Allegra, even with Andreas. I watched them laugh and boo and cheer as the songs came on, and I joined in on the fun. As I stared at Peyton's eyes all evening, I realized I'd never had a better night out in my entire life.

Before now, all that mattered was finding a girl to take home with me. But tonight, the only girl I wanted was right here with me, and I couldn't get enough of her. She looked so beautiful with her hair down, and I loved seeing her throw her head back and sing in tune to the music. She was laughing so much, having so much fun. I just wanted to capture the moment and bottle it up so I could relive it for the rest of my life.

I pulled Peyton closer to me for another dance, my arm snaking around her waist.

"Hey," she said, a question hanging in the air between us.

"Hi," I replied, my eyes boring into hers.

She giggled. “You said you had something really big to tell me. So maybe we should get out of here."

I was quick to nod. "Yes. Let's."

She pulled on my hand and then let go, and I followed her out of the club at a safe distance so nobody would suspect a thing. She didn't stop until we were out of the hotel and onto the street. Then she motioned for me to duck into a little alleyway. Once we were safely away from anyone who might’ve seen us, I grabbed her arm and pulled her against me.

She let out a soft gasp as I crashed my body against hers, my mouth so fucking desperate to taste her. I kissed her hungrily, deepening the motion with my tongue, and she fell apart in my arms. I wrapped my own around her waist and held her up as I kissed her again and again, never quite getting enough of her. She was incredible. Absolutely amazing.

I would never have enough of Peyton Cadwell. 

When we finally broke apart, she laughed again and kissed me gently on the cheek. "Let's go down to the beach," she said. “No one will see us there, and it’s a little nicer than a dark alleyway.”

I was already nodding. 

I followed at a safe distance again as she headed across the road and down to the beach. The boardwalk was full of people even at this time of night, most of them coming from the Mirabella and the surrounding bars and clubs. I didn't want to be anywhere else in the world. Just being around Peyton felt fucking perfect. 

Once we were well away from the crowds, we walked together, chatting about this and that as we made our way down to the sand. I saw Peyton had trouble with her shoes—as anyone would, walking on sand in five inch stilettos—and I sat her down on a nearby bench. She looked at me with wide eyes as I kneeled down in front of her and gently eased the crazy-tall heels off her feet.

"You're some kind of Prince Charming today," she said.

I grinned. "You mean every day," I corrected her.

She stuck her tongue out. “Actually, I changed my mind. Prince Charming wasn’t supposed to take Cinderella’s shoes….”

“Careful, or I’ll turn you into a pumpkin spice latte.”

“That’s not how it goes at all!”

We laughed, then kept walking on the beach. I took my own shoes off too, carrying them in the hand that wasn't holding Peyton's. Feeling the sand between my toes felt amazing, and I dipped them in the warm ocean as we made our way down to the water. The farther away we went from the main strip, the quieter the world seemed to get. It was perfect—just the city lights, the sea, Peyton, and me.

It was the best night of my life, but as my watch struck midnight, I knew it was time to tell her.

I needed to ease myself into it, so I decided to start with something a little less awful than my true identity. If I told her about the tax evasion rumors floating around, then I could slowly segue into the reason I’d started working at the Mirabella, and then from that, I could finally tell her who I was.

"Listen, Peyton," I said after a short lull in the conversation. She turned to face me, looking more beautiful than ever in the moonlit night.

"Yeah?" she said.

"I told you I wanted to talk about a few things.”

She smiled and nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Well, to start, I've heard some rumors," I said. 

"Oh?" She looked shocked. Obviously she’d been expecting to hear something vastly different.

"It's about the Mirabella," I said. "There's some gossip going around about it.”

She frowned. “What is it?”

“Some people are saying that your parents are involved in some sort of dodgy tax evasion scheme."

Her brows shot up. "What? What people?"

"It's just something I saw, and—"

She narrowed her eyes. “You saw?” she said stiffly. “Saw what, exactly?”

Shit. Freudian slip, I guess. After all, I had seen some of the supposed ‘proof’ of the missing millions with my own eyes, even if I didn’t believe it was really proof of anything the Cadwells had done.

“I meant to say heard,” I said hastily.

“Right. So what did you hear, then?”

“Just what I said before—I heard a rumor going around about tax evasion.”

“Okay… but it’s just a stupid rumor, right? People start them about my family all the time. So why is this one such a big deal?” she asked, her brows knitted in a puzzled expression.

I gave her a long look. “Some people might have proof of the missing money. I mean, something that looks like proof. Proof that there’s a few million missing dollars off the top. But really, there could be any sort of explanation for it. Dodgy accountants, or—”

She held up a hand and cut me off again. “You sound like you know an awful lot about these so-called rumors. And this so-called proof. So what… do you believe it, then? Is that why you wanted to talk about this?" she asked, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

She was staring at me incredulously now, and I cursed myself inwardly for bringing the subject up so clumsily. I was going to ease into telling her who I really was (and subsequently what the hell my parents had been up to against her own), but it was going to be hard to do that now without making her lose her shit entirely. She looked pretty angry already. 

"No." I shook my head. “That’s not why."

She kept staring, her mouth set in a thin line. Her hand slipped out of mine and she crossed her arms in front of her body, glaring at me. "Then why’d you bring it up? I mean, I feel like you do believe it at least a little bit, or you wouldn’t have made such a big deal about wanting to talk about it, right? Or at least you wouldn’t have brought up the fact that there’s allegedly some sort of ‘proof’. And you’re just acting so weird all of a sudden.”

I noticed she was slurring her words now. Shit, she was drunk.

I saw her knock back a couple of glasses at the club earlier, but she hadn’t had anywhere near as much as everyone else. I actually thought she was still relatively sober right up until this moment. Sober enough for a serious conversation, that is.

But clearly, she wasn’t. She must’ve sneaked some shots in with the girls while I was talking or dancing with other people, and they were finally kicking in.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be weird,” I said with a sigh. Trying to talk to a drunk person in a reasonable way was like fighting an uphill battle.

“Okay. But you brought it up! So on some level, you think something is going on, right? You think my parents could be guilty of this… whatever this missing money problem is?” she replied, obviously not willing to drop the subject just yet.

"Peyton, I never said that," I said placatingly, holding a palm up. "I don’t think your parents are doing it. But yes, I think something is definitely going on at the hotel, and some other people think—"

"What people, Cade? And what’s this proof you mentioned? Why can’t you just spit it all out and give me a straight answer?”

“I…” I rubbed my chin.

“Can’t even answer that? Great.” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Well, I’ll tell you this—whoever started this bullshit rumor, and whatever stupid proof they claim to have… they’re wrong," she snapped. She rubbed her eyes and took a step back, almost tripping over her own feet for a second. Then she looked back up at me. “Seriously, Cade, why did you even bring it up and make such a big deal about it, if you don’t think there’s any truth to it? I mean, you said earlier that you had to talk to me about something really big. Was this really it? This… this total bullcrap about my family? That was the huge thing?”

I hesitated. How the hell could I even tell her the whole story now, when she was clearly wasted? I had the shittiest timing in the history of the world.

“Well?” she demanded again. “Are you going to tell me why you brought it up like this?”

“It was just to give you a heads-up,” I finally said. That, and also because it’s my parents propagating most of the rumors, I wanted to add, but I couldn’t while she was drunk.

She ran a hand through her long hair as she shook her head slowly. "God, so now this on top of everything else. As if what's going on with Allegra and everything else isn't enough already."

"Allegra?" I asked. It took me a moment to remember what I saw at the grocery store out of town earlier. "Oh, I was also going to say. About Allegra, she actually did something really strange—"

"Great. Now you have a problem with her too?" Peyton cut in, rolling her eyes. "Look, my sister is still adjusting to everything, okay? I just...."

She looked so pissed, yet also so lost, and I got so carried away looking at her pretty face that I didn't get another word in. Next thing I knew, Peyton was shaking her head, refusing to look at me. "You know what?" she said. "I can't do this. I can’t be here with you."

She started backing away, and I followed her, trying to take her hand.

"Please don't touch me," she snapped, and I retreated. 

Apparently I'd really fucked up. “Peyton…”

"Look, I need to be alone right now," she said. "I need some peace and quiet. All this bullshit about my parents, and Allegra too... I can't take it from you right now. I need to think. I need to be alone."

Angry tears spilled down her cheeks, and she turned and ran off in the other direction, her drunken gait resembling that of a confused llama.

I stared after her, completely shocked by the turn of events.

I couldn't let her leave like this, even if she didn't want to speak to me right now. I needed to make sure she got back to the Mirabella safely or I'd never be able to forgive myself. With all these sleazy characters on the streets at night these days, I didn't trust her to be able to fend them off herself. Even in a nice, upscale area like this, you still never knew who or what you might encounter.

I followed her back at a safe distance, my heart pounding nervously every time she looked over her shoulder. One moment I thought she must've seen me, but she stared back ahead the next second.

I hated myself for hurting her, but what the hell was I supposed to do? I needed to tell her the truth, the whole truth. And if my parents were serious about these allegations against the Cadwells, I needed Peyton to know about it… so I could help her and her family. Not attack them.

I didn't go back to my own place until I made sure Peyton entered the Mirabella. Once she was back safely, I pulled my phone out to find several texts and voicemail messages from Tristan. I called him back.

"Dude, where are you?" he shouted into the phone over the loud music. "You have to get back here!"

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to be with anyone else. I just wanted Peyton. But I needed a distraction. I needed to clear my head, too. I needed to forget for a while.

Maybe going back to the club wasn't such a bad idea after all.