Page 59 of Hotter in the Hamptons

“We had friends in Malibu,” Lola said. “Which is kind of the Hamptons of LA.”

“I liked Malibu the one time I went. It’s crazy to see dolphins from the beach.”

“My sweet little New Yorker,” Lola replied.

Their wine came, and then the bread. Lola’s stomach grumbled as she buttered a small piece.

“I heard that,” Aly laughed.

“Good thing you got me the steak,” Lola said. She was dizzy with the attention and the food. Eager to gorge herself on all things Aly, learn everything she could about the girl sitting across from her. “Okay, tell me more things. What are your hopes and dreams?” As the words came out of her mouth, she flashed back in time to her first encounter with Justin. This was a questionhehad asked her as they stood in that art gallery years before, slowly eyeing each other and updating their mental profiles from high school. Lola suddenly felt a pang of unease at how easily his question had slipped from her lips.

That being said, it seemed to work. Aly was smiling at her.

“My hopes and dreams,” she repeated. Their calves brushed under the table. “I mean, sometimes I feel like I’m living my dream. Not many people get to make money on just their writing. Other times, I feel like I should be writing about more serious stuff. Not that I don’t love fashion, but maybe politics or social justice issues. I don’t know. And I do want to write a book. You were right about that.”

Lola nodded, thrilled that Aly was opening up to her like this. “I had a feeling,” she said. “I’m sorry I was so mean about it.”

“It’s okay,” Aly said. “We were taking turns being mean. We can just chalk it up to foreplay.” She reached across the table and held Lola’s hand, a gesture so sweet and surprising Lola had to stop herself from melting. “Anyway, you tellmemore things. What areyourhopes and dreams?”

Lola swallowed. Thatwasthe question, just as it had been when they met for her interview. But she was unsure if she should reveal too much to Aly. She’d tried that once, and look where it had gotten her. How could she possibly articulate her identity crisis to the girl who had jump-started it all? But this Aly sitting across from her was not the same Aly who had interviewed her so many weeks ago. She couldn’t be.

At least she hoped.

“Honestly?” Lola paused. She wanted to tell Aly about her dreams of being a fashion designer. But she couldn’t get the words out. She was worried if she said it out loud, she might jinx herself. Or maybe Aly would turn around and write something mean about her again. No—Lola shook the thought off. She didn’t really think that. Despite everything, she trusted Aly. Now that they’d spent a week in bed, she knew Aly wouldn’t betray her like that again. But she still couldn’t be totally honest with her, not about this. She wasn’t ready. Instead, she said, “I don’t know.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Aly said, looking at her in a way that was so nonjudgmental and supportive, Lola felt warm all over.

After dinner—which Aly paid for—Aly said, “Have you ever walked around the hotel here? It’s really pretty.”

Lola shook her head. “Show me.”

Itwaspretty. Pink and purple flowers wrapped around the resort, which had a pool overlooking the water and a dock lined with yachts. Their lights reflected golden swirls onto the inky-black water.

Aly pulled Lola’s hand toward the beach, which was empty and dark. “Are we allowed down there?” Lola asked.

“Trust me,” Aly said.

They kicked off their shoes when they reached the sand, which was cold and damp on Lola’s feet. And then, before Lola really knew what was happening, Aly pulled her close and they were kissing. Lola shivered, and Aly held her tighter. They were in total darkness at the edge of the dock. They couldn’t see or hear anyone else.

Which was how Lola justified putting her hand down the front of Aly’s pants, where she found Aly was completely wet.

Aly hiked Lola’s dress up around her thighs.

“How are we going to stay standing up?” Lola asked.

Aly started laughing and pulled Lola to the sand.

***

On Friday morning, Aly announced apologetically that she needed to turn her phone on.

Lola tried not to look over Aly’s shoulder as reams of notifications filled the screen: texts, emails, news alerts, voicemails.

“Popular,” Lola remarked despite herself.

She turned her own phone on. She had three texts in a row fromRyan:Wanna go to the beach?followed byAre you coming home tonight?and finallyGoing to Emmett’s.

She wrote backSorry sorry sorry! I’m at Aly’s!

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