Page 60 of Hotter in the Hamptons

Always a fan of brutal honesty, Ryan’s read receipts immediately flagged that he had seen her text. He didn’t respond.

But that was typical—Ryan was busy. Ryan was summering. Ryan would be fine.

“Sorry, I need to listen to some of these,” Aly said, sitting up and bringing the phone to her ear.

“Totally fine,” Lola said, while a sour, petulant feeling roiled through her.Don’t be so needy, she chastised herself.Just because you don’t have anything going on doesn’t mean she doesn’t. “I’ll go make coffee.”

Aly mouthedthank youbefore turning away.

By the time Aly joined her downstairs, Lola had made not just coffee but toast and eggs. She’d been singing to herself, trying not to wonder who had left Aly so many messages. Was it other girls, job offers, friends? Why did all of the above leave a small knot in Lola’s chest? It would do no one any good for her to have a jealousy spiral. At least not before 9:00 a.m.

“Sorry about that,” Aly said, perching on the same barstool where she’d once bandaged Lola’s foot. “I totally forgot that I’m supposed to go to Fire Island this weekend. My friends kept calling me to be like,are you alive?And also to tell me I’m in charge of bringing hot dogs.”

“Oh,” Lola said, keeping her tone light. “Fire Island. Hot dogs. That sounds lovely.” She wondered what she’d do while Aly was gone. She should probably try to make some plans with Ryan. The alternative (a house, alone; her hand, alone) was too pathetic.

“So you’ll come? It’s just for two nights. They got a big house in Cherry Grove. I’m supposed to leave later today.”

Lola grinned, unable to hide her delight. “You want me to meet your friends?”

“Of course I do,” Aly said, shaking her head and smiling. “Go pack. We leave at noon.”

***

Ryan was home reading on the sofa when Lola burst through the door.

“What do people wear on Fire Island?” she said instead of hello.

“Tiny little Speedos,” he replied casually, looking up fromA Little Life. “Are you going with Aly?”

She nodded. “I have three hours to get ready to meet her best friends.”

He sat up, concerned. “You’re meeting her best friends after less than a week of fucking?”

Lola put her hands on her hips, annoyed at the accusation behind his words. “What’s the issue?”

“Is that not… a little love-bomby?”

Lola was suddenly struck with the fact that she hadn’t dissected Aly’s invitation down to her every inflection. That she hadn’t wanted to. Sure, things may be moving fast. But that was okay; Lola was into it—she wasn’t shame spiraling and sad any longer. She was moving forward. She shook her head. “Do not plant the seeds of paranoia, puh-lease. I’m finally happy.”

He sighed and lay back down. “Sorry. I don’t mean to steal joy. Forget I said anything.”

“Already forgotten,” she sang, floating up the stairs.

And as Lola flung clothes into a weekend bag, she felt a needle of concern. Because she knew Aly liked her, that point had beensolidified. But would Aly’s friends be equally impressed by a fallen influencer crashing their little slice of summer paradise?

Or would they be so used to Aly bringing random girls to hang out with them that they wouldn’t even register her presence?

Chapter 11

It was an hour drive to Sayville, where they’d catch the ferry to Fire Island, which, according to Aly, was the correct amount of time to prep Lola to meet her friend group.

“So it’s Colette and Jess, and then Laurie and Lauren and their toddler, Clancy,” she said, one hand on the wheel and the other resting possessively on Lola’s leg in a way that Lola had quickly come to expect. “Colette and Jess are the most traditional butch/femme couple of the group. They’re from another era. You’ll see. And Laurie and Lauren are my bros. We call them the Laurs. They’re my most normal friends. Laurie is a social worker and Lauren is a dentist. I love having friends who don’t work in media. They’re both LHBs. It’s really cute. And they’re both great, but Lauren is the sweet one. You’ll see what I mean.”

Lola’s head was overflowing with information. “Wait, slow down. What’s an LHB?”

Aly laughed. “Sorry. Long-haired butch.”

Lola tilted her head to the side, considering this. “Is that what you are?”

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