Page 9 of Hotter in the Hamptons

“Please!” Lola cried. “I am a very cool snowboard chick, thank you very much.”

Aly laughed. “Okay, I can see it, I guess. Though for some reason, it’s easier to picture you drinking hot chocolate in the lodge. I’m seeing a cable-knit sweater, a fuzzy beanie, maybe some knee-high UGGs?”

“I do love an après-ski,” Lola admitted. “But my version is less J. Crew catalogue than you’re describing. I’m pretty chic after I shred a mountain.”

“You know what? I believe you,” Aly said. And then she grew serious again. “So speaking of which, the elephant in the room: let’s talk aboutlesbianchic.”

Lola nodded. Her team had prepared her for this, and she launched into the statement they’d rehearsed. “I’m so sorry to everyone I offendedby appropriating a phrase from the queer community. I have a lot of queer people in my life who I love, and sometimes I forget that their words aren’t mine. I am constantly learning and growing, and I hope that people will give me the chance to do better.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. But how did itfeelto get canceled like that?” Aly pressed.

“Horrible,” Lola whispered. She felt totally vulnerable under Aly’s piercing stare.

“I have to tell you,” Aly said, softening, as though she sensed how upset Lola was becoming. “I really didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“You didn’t?”

“No.” Aly laughed again, that warm, generous sound. “And I watched the video many times. It just seemed like you weren’t really thinking.”

Lola nodded vigorously. “Exactly.Exactly!”

Aly continued, “I’m far more interested in the response to what you said than what you actually said. I mean, I’m not super online, so I feel like an anthropologist watching this unfold. They really wanted to burn you.”

Lola nodded, relieved to get sympathy. “They sure did. And like, I said the wrong thing. We all say the wrong things sometimes, you know? But it doesn’t mean I’m homophobic. I mean, the only porn I watch is girl on girl!”

Aly’s mouth fell open.

Lola wanted to die. She could not believe the words that had just come out of her.

She put her face in her hands. “I shouldn’t be allowed to speak,” she said. “I can’t request something be off the record after it’s been said, can I?”

“No.” Aly started laughing then. “Sorry. That’s just not…what I was expecting you to say. It takes a lot to shock me. I’m almost impressed.”

Lola removed her hands from her face. “I’m nothing if not full of surprises,” she said with chagrin.

“Good to know,” Aly said, her pretty face tilted to the side. “But just to confirm, for the sake of”—she paused, looking like she was trying to fight a smile—“for the sake of my fact-checker, youarestraight, right?”

“Right.”

Lola wondered if Aly wasreallyasking for the sake of her fact-checker or if there was another reason she might be curious about Lola’s specific sexual orientation—a personal reason. She wondered what it might change for Aly if Lola had said something else besides “right.” But she wasn’t sure what else she could have said.

Lola had never told anyone about her specific porn habit, and now here she was, offering the info up to Aly like it was nothing. Aly, the alleged heartbreaker, who was writing a story that would likely be read by tens of thousands of people, including Lola’s parents. And Justin. And—probably the worst of it—Justin’s parents. Her thoughts swirled. She couldn’t believe she was talking about porn with Aly Ray Carter. Did Aly watch porn? Lola’s mind raced.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” Aly said, interrupting her panic, “youdidlook pretty lesbian chic in that suit.” A half smile twitched across Aly’s full lips, and something devious glinted in her eyes. “Which is, of course, a compliment.”

“Thank you,” Lola said. Her heart started to pound again. For reasons she couldn’t understand, she felt like this was the nicest thing Aly could have said to her.

Lola glanced at Aly’s lips. She had a perfect Cupid’s bow.Very kissable.The thought flickered across her brain before she could stop it.

She swallowed. It was not appropriate to think about kissing the journalist interviewing her. She was basically objectifying her. But…whatwould it be like? Would Aly use tongue? Teeth? Would she dig her hands into Lola’s hair? Would Aly need to stand on her tiptoes?

Lola had to force herself to stop looking at Aly’s mouth.

Meanwhile, Aly turned the recorder off and knocked back the last foamy sip of her cappuccino, and then she raised her hand to get the waiter’s attention. Lola caught a glimpse of the smooth hollow of Aly’s armpit just beyond the cuff of her T-shirt.

Get ahold of yourself, Fine, she thought.We are not going to ogle this woman’s goddamn armpit.It was too late, though. She’d already stared.

The waiter brought the bill, and Aly tossed a ten on the table. Lola couldn’t remember the last time she saw someone pay in cash.

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