Get Me

Book 7: The Keatyn Chronicles®

by Jillian Dodd

Genres: Young Adult

Synopsis

Keatyn’s crazy life comes together in one perfect script.

Will Keatyn get her life back? 

And if she does, which life (and boy) will she choose? 

Release date: August 25, 2014

Publisher: Swoonworthy Books

Print pages: 375

Sample

Saturday, December 17th

Walked out.

Winter Formal

 

I try to rid my mind of Aiden and focus on the task at hand.

Keeping Eastbrooke safe from Vincent. 

I walk toward the room where Cooper and the dean have corralled the press. 

As I get to the door, they’re both walking out. 

Cooper speaks to the dean in rapid-fire fashion. “She lied because she’s being stalked. I’m her bodyguard. We cannot let this get out on social media or Eastbrooke itself will be in danger.” Cooper points to some students on the dance floor who are on their phones. 

“I can handle the students,” the dean says. “What I can’t control is the press.”

“I’ll handle them,” I say confidently. 

The dean walks onto the stage and takes the microphone. “All right. Everyone listen up. Take out your phones. Excellent. I’d like you to delete any photos you took of Keatyn. If any of you posted about her, Abby Johnston, Eastbrooke, or what just transpired, I’d like you to delete it immediately from any and all social networks. At Eastbrooke, we pride ourselves on our students’ security and privacy. Each and every one of you knows security, excellence, leadership, and a sense of community is what keeps Eastbrooke strong. As is always our policy, we will be monitoring your social media to make sure you are showing yourself and our school in the best light. Anyone who publicly speaks of this will face detention and possible expulsion. Do I make myself clear?” 

Cooper says to me, “One down, one to go. You ready?”

“I need to make a quick phone call first. While I do, could you find me some paper?”

He grabs a large decorative snowflake off the wall. “Will this work?”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, that will work.” Then I call Damian.

“I heard what you did for Peyton,” he says immediately. “Thank you.”

“Is she okay?”

“Because of you, yes. But she’s a wreck. I’m headed to the airport now.” 

“I have a favor.”

“Anything. You know that.”

“I’m about to talk to the local press. In order to keep them quiet about me being at Eastbrooke, I need to give them a bigger story.”

“Bait and switch. Hollywood does it all the time.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have a bigger story to offer.”

“But I do. That’s why you called me.”

“You’re right. Damian Moran’s date in New York City with his new girlfriend would do the trick. But we’d have to fix Peyton’s social media first so Vincent can’t connect her to me.”

“Of course. We’ll do whatever you need. It’s the least we can do.”

 “Aiden walked out when he heard the truth about my mom.”

“You told everyone the truth? Peyton was sobbing, so it was hard to follow exactly what happened. She just kept saying you saved her.”

“I told them who my mom is, but I didn’t tell them the truth about why I lied. I told them it was because I wanted to prove I could act.” 

“Why didn’t you tell them about the stalker?”

“Because there are people here who would call Vincent themselves if they knew the real story. I have to protect my friends. Protect Eastbrooke.”

“You should be protecting yourself.”

“That’s next on the list. Okay, I have to go.”

“Let’s meet tomorrow to discuss.”

“Damian?”

“What?”

“Thanks for always being my friend.”

“I love you. I’m pissed and scared that you outed yourself but, at the same time, I’m proud of what you did for Peyton. Seriously, Keats, you’ve changed. I like it.”

Cooper motions for me to follow him.

“Thanks, Damian. I gotta go.”

 

I follow Cooper into a room where the press, three reporters and two cameramen, have gathered. All of them are young. 

And, hopefully, hungry. 

I was going to emulate my mother. She handles the press so well. 

But my mom didn’t go through what I did with Vincent.

I’ll just be me.

I smile, shake each one of their hands, and introduce myself. “Hi. I’m Keatyn.” After that, I address them. “So, I have a huge favor. I’d like for you not to report what you just heard.”

“Are you kidding me?” the short, blonde reporter says. “Abby Johnston is big news.”

“You’re right. She is. But I’m not her. I mean, what would you report exactly?”

“That you’re at a boarding school using a different last name than hers. Trying to hide who you are.”

I nod, agreeing with her. “Except that my mom and I have had different last names my whole life. Douglas for me. Johnston for her.”

“But you lied about it.”

“So what? I didn’t want people to judge me. I wanted to make friends because of who I am, not who my mom is. Not exactly a scandal. I doubt your editors would even print it.”

She looks defeated, but the other reporter narrows her eyes. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something more to the story?”

I give them my slow smile, the one that’s exactly like Mom’s. 

“Because you’re a good reporter.” I turn to Cooper. “I’ll take that paper now.” 

I show them the snowflake and my purple glitter pen. “I’m going to write up a simple non-disclosure agreement. If you sign it and agree not to tell anyone, I’ll tell you the truth.”

“But we can’t talk about it?”

“Yes. The story has purposely been kept out of the press.”

They all look at me like I’m nuts. 

I start writing, reading aloud as I do. “This says, I agree not to disclose any details about Keatyn Monroe, Keatyn Douglas, Eastbrooke, or Abby Johnston. I will not discuss what Keatyn tells me with anyone. If the truth comes out before the specified time, I will be subject to a damages lawsuit. This contract will become null and void upon two events: Keatyn’s death or when she gives written consent otherwise.”

I turn the paper around and place the pen on top of it.

No one moves. 

“In return for doing me this favor, I will give you two things. The first is that when my story is ready to be shared with the press, you will get that story exclusively.”

The looks on their faces tell me they aren’t really all that excited about a possible future story, so I dangle the bigger bait. “The second is a story you can use now. One every entertainment reporter in the country has been dying for.”

“What’s that? Is Abby pregnant again?” the red-haired reporter asks, perking up.

“Are she and Tommy breaking up?” her photographer asks.

“Is it true that Tommy is having an affair with the nanny?” another says.

“If you agree to my terms and sign the NDA, you will get to report on and photograph the first public date of Damian Moran and his new girlfriend. The date will take place in New York City. It will include dinner, a romantic carriage ride through Central Park, and a kiss. Who knows, maybe they’ll even window shop at Tiffany’s. You’ll be given a media packet with pertinent information about the girlfriend along with the story of how they met.”

None of the reporters can hide their surprise.

And I’m sure none of them ever thought coming to a high school dance would net them a story like this.

I hold out my pen to the blonde closest to me.

“I think we can all agree to those terms,” she says, quickly signing the agreement.

Once everyone has signed, I turn to Cooper. “Would you please sign as a witness?”

I photograph Cooper signing the snowflake, take another of the document itself, and forward them to Sam. 

“Now that the business part is out of the way, I’ll tell you my story. If something happens to me, you’ll have the inside scoop—”

I’m interrupted by pounding on the door. 

Cooper and I share a glance, mine probably more panicked than his. 

Could Vincent have found me already?

And would he knock?

Cooper cracks the door and says, “Not now.”

“Keatyn, we’re not leaving!” I hear Riley yell.

Did he say we?

Tears start prickling my eyes. I rush to the door and motion for Cooper to open it.

And that’s when I see all of them.

Riley, Ariela, Jake, Dawson, Maggie, Logan, Dallas, Bryce, and even Katie and Annie are standing outside the door. 

“We’re not leaving,” Riley states. He’s standing straight and tall with his chin confidently jutting out. 

“And we know you’re lying,” Jake says, surprising me.

“I’m not lying, Jake. Abby Johnston is my mom.”

“That part I believe. It’s the rest of it. About why you came here. You didn’t come to act. And don’t think you can fool me. I recognize your mean girl character from Drama.”

“And you better have a damn good reason for lying to your best friends,” Dallas pipes up.

I look at Annie. Her eyes are full of tears. She mouths, I’m sorry. 

Cooper moves between us. “They need to go, Keatyn.”

I remember being in Malibu and wondering who my true friends were. I close my eyes for a moment and make a decision. “Why don’t you all come in and have a seat.”

Cooper shakes his head. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I trust them,” I say loudly, as much to them as to Cooper.

 

I give everyone a hug, ask them to take a seat, and then address them. “I’m about to tell you a secret. It’s very important that this secret doesn’t get out. If you don’t think you can keep the secret, it’s okay. We’ll still be friends, but I’ll have to ask you to leave for a bit.”

No one moves, so I go to Annie. “Are you sure?” I ask her.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I was hurt and just reacted.”

“I’m sorry for what I said too. While you listen, can you do me a huge favor?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Take everything off the Kiki Kiki profile. Delete all the photos. Unfriend everyone. Then delete the account.”

I take a deep breath as I walk to the front of the room.

Then I start talking. 

And don’t stop until I’ve told them every bit of the truth, from the moment I met Vincent until the moment he tried to kidnap me.

“Why isn’t he in jail?” one of the reporters asks.

“There wasn’t enough evidence to prove attempted kidnapping, so they let him go. Basically, it was his word against mine. He told the police that we were friends. That I invited him to the party. That there was a commotion and he was trying to help. When we were back home, I remembered he mentioned a van out back. The police found a van with duct tape and drugs in it, but it was stolen so they couldn’t trace it back to him.”

“Sneaky bastard,” Dallas says.

“Yeah, well, it gets worse.”

“Keep going,” Riley encourages.

“So, we were back at home, just trying to wrap our heads around it all. How I knew him. How they could let him go. What it would mean—when a house alarm went off down the beach at my boyfriend’s. It was quickly discovered that whoever broke in took just one thing.”

“What was that?” one of the reporters asks breathlessly.

“My bikini. The one I was wearing when I first met him on the beach.”

“Oh, that’s sick,” she says.

“He also left us something.”

“What?”

“An envelope addressed to my mom. Inside were photos of me. From everywhere. School. With friends. Boyfriends. He’d been following me for months.”

“Wow,” Maggie says.

“And that’s why I was sent here. And why I had to lie about who I am. I’m hiding.”

“So, are you going to hide out forever?” Riley asks.

I tell them the rest. About Vincent following my friends. About the break-ins at the rehab centers. About Vincent showing up at the surf tournament and later in Miami. About the nationwide search for the next Abby Johnston. About the photos of Tommy and Brooklyn with their heads blown off. 

About going back to the club to see Vincent.

About the girl’s death. 

“That’s why I lied. I wanted everyone to hate me because I need to protect you. Protect Eastbrooke. Because if he finds out where I am, he’ll come here. And it won’t be pretty.”

“What are you going to do now?” Maggie asks.

“I’m fighting back. I’ll probably end up kidnapped or dead but, hopefully, he’ll end up in jail.” I shut my eyes tightly, not loving my odds. I look directly at the reporters. “Either way, you’ll have another story.”

Cooper escorts the press out of the room while I get hugs and words of encouragement from my friends.

Riley wraps an arm around my shoulder and whispers, “You told me the truth. Mostly.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“I got it all done,” Annie says, handing me back my phone. “You should have told us.”

“At first, I didn’t know you well enough to trust you. Once I did, I was afraid to put you in danger.”

“You were going to take me home to meet your parents,” Dawson says flatly. “Your real parents?”

“Yeah. I was going to tell you the truth on the plane.”

“And I fucked it up. I’m sorry.”

“Which really made me afraid to trust any of you.”

“Okay,” Cooper says, heading back into the room. “I think you should all either go dance or head out. It’s getting late.”

Dallas narrows his eyes at me. “Coach Steele is being awfully helpful.”

“After the Miami incident, he was brought in to babysit me. Be my bodyguard.”

Maggie gives me a smile and a wink. “Lucky girl. Have a good Christmas break. Be safe. And I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“You better be coming back to Eastbrooke.”

“If I can’t, at least now you’ll know why.”

Dallas joins the hug. “If you don’t, you better stay in touch.”

“I will. I promise.” I turn to Riley. “Hey, can I catch a ride to the hotel with you and Ariela?”

Riley looks around, seemingly surprised. “Where’s Aiden?”

I put my head down. I don’t want to say it. My heart hurts.

“Is he meeting you at the hotel?”

“He walked out and didn’t want me to follow him.”

Riley shakes his head. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, Riley!” I snap.

“We’ll give you a ride,” Ariela says sweetly, comforting as always. 

“Thank you. I’ll meet you out front in a couple minutes.”

As soon as everyone leaves the room, Cooper says, “I’m coming to the hotel with you. And you need to explain to me what really happened.”

“Whitney was going to share something about Peyton. It was bad, Cooper. Something that should not have been shared. I couldn’t let her do it.”

“So you outed yourself for a friend?”

“Yeah, I guess so. It just all happened so fast. In retrospect, I should have confessed to having an affair with you or something like that. We could have dealt with it a whole lot easier. I mean, big deal if you got fired and I got expelled. I didn’t tell you this, but I was going to tell Aiden the entire truth tonight as soon as we left the dance. I guess it was what was on my mind. And you don’t need to come to the hotel. I’ll be fine there. Just meet me at my loft on Monday morning, as planned.”

“Look, I know you want to call the shots. I get it. I like your bravery and your boldness, but you need to listen to me and do what I say.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Let me guard you twenty-four seven. I believe it’s in your best interest. At least until we know if this is contained.”

“You’re probably right.”

His eyes get big and he laughs. “Did you really just agree with me?”

“Yeah, I did. I don’t think I’ll be in danger at the hotel. Even if it gets out, Vincent won’t know where I am. Everyone else is staying at another hotel near here. It’s where all the parties are. Riley and Aiden wanted us to be somewhere . . . nicer . . .” I sigh, thinking about the amazingly romantic night I was supposed to have. 

“What’s your room number?” Cooper asks, getting out his phone. 

“Twelve fourteen.”

He calls the hotel and makes himself a reservation, securing an adjacent room. “Don’t leave the hotel room without me.”

“Aiden walked out when he heard the truth. If he’s gone when I get to the hotel, I’ll want to go home. To my loft.”

“Sounds reasonable. I need to tie up a few loose ends with the dean and break the news to Garrett.”

“Do you have to?”

“He has computer experts who can monitor social media sites. They’re skilled hackers, which may come in handy. We need to be sure you aren’t compromised.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Don’t let him yell at you. It’s not your fault.”

As I leave, I can’t help but glance back at the students dancing to a slow song and wish Aiden and I were still out there.

 

Epic, weed-induced dream.

Midnight

 

Riley hands me a flask the minute I get into their limo. 

I shake my head. “I’m okay.”

“How did you speak so calmly about almost being kidnapped, the stalker, and possibly dying?” Ariela asks.

“It’s been four months since it happened. I suppose I’m just used to the facts. I hope I didn’t ruin your night.” 

Riley grins at me. “Some of the events were a bit unexpected but, you gotta admit, it’s been an interesting evening.”

Ariela nods in agreement. “Was it hard for you to lie?”

“At first, it was easy. All I was really lying about was my parents. But the more I got to know people, became friends with them, the harder it got. That was another reason why I almost didn’t come back to Eastbrooke after Thanksgiving break. I felt like I was being eaten from the inside out. I love you guys. It was killing me.”

She pulls me into a hug. “I’m glad we know the truth.” 

My phone starts buzzing. I look down at it, hoping it’s Aiden. Instead, I see the name of someone I don’t want to deal with. 

“Shit, I better take this,” I say. “Hey, Garrett.”

“What the hell were you thinking?!” 

I hold the phone out as Garrett continues to yell at me. About Vincent finding me. About how stupid what I did was. How he’s going to come get me himself.

Riley and Ariela start making funny faces at me. 

It feels so good to have them on my side. To not have to hide all this. 

I start to laugh. 

Loudly. 

Like I’m high. 

I used to wish I were dreaming. That this whole thing was just some epic, weed-induced dream. But I’m glad it’s not. Because I would have missed out on making some amazing friends. 

“What the hell are you laughing about?!” I hear.

I put the phone back up to my ear. “Nothing. I’m with some friends.”

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Kinda hard not to. Are you done?”

“Excuse me?!”

“I don’t need to be yelled at, Garrett,” I say calmly. “I know what I did was not good for me, but it is what it is. I can’t change it. Why don’t you take some of that passion and use it to motivate your computer wizards. The dean threatened students with expulsion if they didn’t comply, but I need keywords relating to my family and all the students’ social media monitored. If anyone posts anything, it needs to be deleted somehow. I need major damage control. Vincent cannot find out about Eastbrooke.”

“You know you’re not going to be able to go back there now.”

“I know I can’t. Um, I have to go. I’ll text you,” I tell him because I don’t want Riley and Ariela to hear what I need to say.

 

Me:  Just because I can’t go back doesn’t mean I don’t want to protect the school. Please monitor it. Please, do whatever computer magic you can to keep it and my friends safe. 

 

We pull up to the hotel and Riley says, “What are you going to do about Aiden?”

“That all depends on if he’s here or not. If he is, I’ll try to talk to him. The bitch of it all is that I was going to tell him the truth tonight as soon as we got to our room. Tonight was supposed to be the night, and I wanted him to know before we were together like that.”

“We understand why you lied, Keatyn. Aiden will too.”

“Do you think so? The look on his face. The way he held his hand up, telling me not to follow him. It killed me.”

“If he loves you the way I think he does, you’ll work it out.”

“I hope so.”

“Don’t forget, we’re doing brunch in the morning.”

“I won’t. We have a lot to plan. Damian decided to do a different song for the video. This one will be a lot more fun, I think.”

We take the elevator upstairs, Riley and Ariela getting out on the eighth floor. I get the keycard out of my clutch as the elevator dings. 

I walk slowly to my room.

No. Our room.

The room that was going to change our relationship; take it to a deeper level.

I’m afraid. Afraid I’ll open the door and see that his stuff is gone.  

While I’m contemplating if I should go in, the door bursts open and Aiden comes out, carrying a bunch of bags. 

My heart sinks. 

Or breaks, maybe.

“Aiden,” I say breathlessly. 

“We need to talk,” he says in a very serious, he’s-so-done-with-me tone.

All of a sudden, I want to run. 

Run away. 

Run out of the hotel. 

It was bad enough to see him walk out. 

It’s going to be even worse to hear him say it.

“You walked out when you heard the truth about who I am.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “I saw Peyton leaving in tears with Whitney’s computer. I went to check on her. It was pretty obvious that whatever Whitney was going to say was about Peyton, not you.”

“You’re leaving, though,” I manage to squeak out, my eyes focusing on his bags.

“These are Peyton’s bags. Remember, we let her put them in our room?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Peyton told me what Whitney was about to do. You outed yourself for her. I appreciate that,” he says flatly. 

This feels so surreal. I want him to hug me. Tell me he doesn’t care who I am. 

But he doesn’t. 

“I need to take her bags upstairs. Come with me. I know she’d like to thank you.”

“Where are your bags?”

“Still in the room,” he says, giving me half a flicker of hope. 

“Oh.”

“It’s been a rough night,” he says. 

“Yeah.” 

“How did you get here? Is the dance over already?” He looks down at his watch and shakes his head. “I went out to check on her and found her bawling hysterically. She wouldn’t tell me why. Just kept crying, rocking, and clutching the computer. Saying she was going to have to tell Mom and Dad. How disappointed they would be. She hadn’t told me, but our parents decided to come tonight instead of tomorrow to help take our stuff to New York. Anyway, when we got back here, she told us everything. Half of what she said was hard to understand, but we got the gist of it.”

“Riley gave me a ride. How did your parents take it?”

“Better than I did.” He hangs his head in shame. “I went to Eastbrooke to take care of her. I should have known.”

“It’s not your fault, Aiden.”

“I was coming back to the dance to get you right after I delivered her bags.”

“You were?” 

“Boots, I told you that I’d never walk away again. I’m a man of my word,” he says sternly. Clearly insinuating that I’m the opposite of that. 

I’m a liar. 

“You lied for my sister, but you didn’t tell the truth. I know you were acting. That wasn’t the real you.”

“Jake said the same thing.”

“Was everyone mad?”

“At first. But I told them the truth. You looked really mad. I was afraid you wouldn’t ever talk to me again.”

The serious look returns to his face. 

“Let’s not do this in the hall. Why don’t you come with me to deliver the bags, then we’ll come back here to . . . discuss.”

“Um, okay. Is Peyton doing okay?”

As we head to the elevator, he says, “She’s better now.”

I nod as he hits the button for the floor above us. 

He’s silent in the elevator.

My heart is pounding. I feel like I’m being pulled under by a riptide.

Like I’m treading water but losing the fight. 

Waiting to drown. 

I can picture it. We’ll talk to his sister, go back to our room, and he’ll tell me that he hates liars. That I should have told him. That we’re through.

 

We exit the elevator and I follow him down the hall.

He’s walking fast. 

A man on a mission. 

Wanting to get it over with. 

Peyton’s mom opens the door and immediately throws her arms around me, dragging me into their suite. 

Peyton is sitting on the bed. Her dad is looking somber on the couch. 

“Thank you for what you did for Peyton,” her mom says.

“Uh, you’re welcome,” I reply. 

I sit on the bed next to Peyton. Her eyes are red and swollen from crying and there’s not a speck of mascara left on them. I give her a hug and whisper, “Did you really tell them the truth?”

She answers me out loud. “Yes. I told my family everything. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I feel so much better. It’s such a relief not having that secret hanging over my head.”

“We’re very grateful you stopped Whitney from showing the pictures, though,” Aiden’s dad says. 

A crazy and inappropriate thought flashes through my brain and I’m tempted to say he can thank me by giving me Aiden as payment.

“We’re prepared for the worst.” Peyton rocks on the bed, holding her knees to her chest. “I know it’s not over. Whitney will have backup copies. Best case scenario, she goes to the dean. Worse case, she releases it to the press. We’ll deal with the fallout of it together. And even though I told Damian about it, I’m sure this will be the end of us.” She starts sobbing. “I can’t ruin his career. And as soon as Whitney finds out we’re together, there will be no stopping her.” 

“Whitney will not be a problem.”

“What do you mean?” her dad asks. “Of course, she is. We’ll have to worry about it for the rest of her life.”

“Peyton, after you left, Whitney did try to threaten me, telling me that I couldn’t stop her. That she has copies of the photos. But I told her that I could and would.”

“How?” 

I grin broadly, knowing that—for once—I used my inner mean girl for the greater good. 

“I told her if any photos ever leaked out—if there was even a hint about them—that I’d release a few photos of my own. Only I wouldn’t bother with the press. I’d send them to her parents. Her college. Her boss. Her husband. Her friends. Whoever is in her life at the time.”

“What pictures?”

“She’s been sending pics to Camden for years. Naked. Partially naked. In a recent one, she was even lying on Coach Steele’s desk. She thought she could make him jealous. Make him fall in love with her, maybe. Who knows. But what matters is that Cam has kept everything. He felt guilty he didn’t tell Dawson about them right away, so he decided to save them, just to use as proof should Dawson ever decide to marry her.”

“Wow,” Peyton says. “I knew she was obsessed with him. I didn’t realize how much.”

“Cam warned me that Whitney was planning something. He was worried about you, so he sent me the whole file. And he was right. She’s been planning this since that day she sat alone at the lunch table.”

“I pushed her.”

“I told you it would backfire. There’s a big difference between standing up for yourself and tearing someone else down.”

Peyton shakes her head. “I’m so stupid.”

“Chalk it up to a life lesson. Anyway, I had a couple of the photos on my phone and showed them to her.”

“What did you say?”

“That I’d ruin her.”

“You and Cam are really good friends. Thank you.” She dabs her tears. “Do you really think it’s over?”

I give her a hug and say, “Yes.”

Aiden clears his voice. 

The sound of it makes me jump. 

“Since we seem to have everything covered here, Keatyn and I are going to head back to our room. We have some things of our own to discuss.”

He gestures toward the door.

I give his parents and Peyton an awkward wave goodbye.

 

He’s quiet on the elevator, on the walk down the hall, and as we go into our room.

After the dirt, the No more lying, and all the You can tell me anythings, I understand why. 

He has every right to be mad. I should’ve listened to my heart and told him. I had so many opportunities, going all the way back to that day in the chapel. 

“Before you say anything, I need to tell you something,” I blurt out. 

He takes my hand and leads me over to the chaise, where we both sit down. 

He lets go of my hand but I quickly grab it again, clinging to it like a life raft.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. There’s a lot more to the story. I understand if you hate me. I deserve it. But you have to know that there were so many times I wanted to tell you. Remember the slutty video? When Dawson and I broke up? I was taking him to meet my parents that weekend. I was going to tell him the truth. That’s why I was so upset. I was more upset at myself for trusting the wrong person again than I was about us not dating. And that’s why, after what happened with Chelsea, I forgave you but wouldn’t see you. I couldn’t lie to you anymore. I was in deep with you, and I knew that eventually I’d have to tell you, and that you’d hate me for lying. But then you brought me dirt and told me our pasts didn’t matter.” 

Tears stream down my face, feeling cold against my flushed cheeks. “You have no idea how deeply that touched me. And it’s why I let you come to St. Croix. I wasn’t planning to go back to school. I didn’t get closure with B. Everything with him—especially how I had to leave—has been so up the air and I didn’t want to do that to you. I was going to give you closure, then send you back to school. And that’s why I’ve been so tired all the time. At night, I’m either learning how to defend myself, or I’m flying back to California to mess with him, or I’m having online business meetings in an attempt to take over his company. It’s not my friend who was being stalked and almost got kidnapped. It was me.” I stop and mutter, “Shit.”

Then I stand up and grab my clutch off the bed. 

“What are you doing?” Aiden asks.

I pull out a piece of paper and hold it up in front of him. “This is the script I’ve been working on. In it, instead of truth-vomiting, I eloquently explain everything to you. I couldn’t have sex with you until you knew.” 

I drop the piece of paper on the chaise, wondering why I’m even bothering. 

He’s not going to forgive me. 

I might as well just grab my bags and go. 

But he starts reading my script aloud.

“THE SETTING: HOTEL SUITE AFTER WINTER FORMAL. 

 

AIDEN

(Opening a bottle of champagne)

 

KEATYN

(Lighting all the votive candles he thoughtfully brought) 

(They kiss)

(But then she looks nervous)

I need to tell you something.

 

AIDEN

(Sits on the edge of the bed)

What?

 

KEATYN

(Stands in front of him)

I’ve been lying to you. Actually, I’ve been lying to everyone about something. And I need you to know. 

 

AIDEN

(Looks concerned)

Okay.

 

KEATYN

I came to Eastbrooke because I was being stalked. My last name isn’t Monroe. I’m Keatyn Douglas. And my mom doesn’t work in oil and gas. But she is in France. And her name is Abby Johnston.

 

AIDEN

(Stands up in shock)”

 

Aiden stares at the script for a few moments then slowly sets it down. I can tell he’s thinking; probably trying to figure out the nicest way to tell me to fuck off. 

Instead, he stands up, takes two big steps toward me, and brushes a tear off my cheek. “Life hasn’t been following your scripts. You told me that once.”

“No, it hasn’t.”

“If it had worked out the way you planned—if you’d followed your script—right now is the point where life would have deviated from it.”

“You wouldn’t have stood up in shock?”

“No,” he says, caressing my face. “I would have said, Baby, I already knew.”

“You what?! What do you mean?!”

“I mean I’ve known for quite a while who you really are.”

“How?!”

“That day at the chapel, when you told me about your friend. I don’t know. I just felt like you were talking about yourself. So I started googling stuff. The name Keatyn, California, stalker, famous parents. Somehow, eventually, I put in the right mix of words. About ten pages into an image search, I came across a photo of you and your mom. It was from a kids’ awards show when you were probably twelve or thirteen.”

“You’ve known this whole time and you let me lie to you?”

“Yeah, Boots, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to be the kind of guy you could trust. It’s why I backed off. Why I told Riley about Dawson. I didn’t want to see you hurt anymore. It’s why I’ve told you so many times that you can tell me anything. That you could trust me. What I didn’t realize before was that I needed to earn that trust. We had to build a strong foundation. I’m really glad you were planning to tell me tonight.”

“But when you put your hand up and told me not to follow, I thought we were over, that you hated me.”

“I could never hate you. I could tell by the look on Peyton’s face that something was really wrong. I held up my hand to let you know that I’d take care of it. That you didn’t need to come. I figured it was just some stupid mean girl thing between her and Whitney. I had no idea it would be so . . . involved. Or take so long.” He takes my hands and pulls me back to sit on the chaise with him. His face looks similar to the way it did when he walked out. Apparently, this is his concerned look, not his I hate you look. “There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me hate you. You need to have faith in us. We’re going to survive the kiln.”

“I was coming to find you. You made me promise that I always would.” 

He smiles at me. It’s a sweet, loving, blazing smile. One that turns my whole night around.

“You told me that didn’t count.”

“I lied,” I say, teasing him. 

“Those reporters took pictures of you. Is the stalker going to find you? Will you have to leave Eastbrooke?”

“I don’t know. The dean made everyone delete anything they put out on social media. I told the local reporters that they didn’t really have much of a story. That my mom and I have had different last names my whole life. I told them if they signed a non-disclosure agreement that I would give them two stories. One they could use now and one they could use, um, later.”

“What do you mean, later?”

“I told them the truth about the stalker. Told them they couldn’t use the story until either he was in jail or I was dead.”

Aiden shuts his eyes tightly. “Dead?”

“Yes. You might as well know that now. If he gets me and no one can rescue me, or if I can’t get away, I’m pretty sure he will kill me.”

“What story can they have now?”

“Who Damian’s new girlfriend is. We have a lot of work to do before then, though.” 

“Like what?”

“Rework Peyton’s social media. Make people think she’s just from California. With her age, they could think she’s in college. Vincent—that’s the stalker’s name—knows Damian and I are friends. We don’t want him to put two and two together. That’s the other reason I didn’t want to go back to Eastbrooke after Thanksgiving break. I didn’t want to put any of my friends in danger. Because he’s about to blow. And when he does, it’s going to be ugly.”

“Isn’t there something you can do, legally?”

“We have to prove he’s stalking me. Threatening me. And, even then, about all you can do is get a restraining order. They said if I went away that he’d forget about me. But he hasn’t. You know that nationwide search for the next Abby Johnston?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s him.”

“Wow. He wanted someone to tell him where you were? Is that why you freaked out and told Annie you didn’t want to be an actress?”

“Yes. I didn’t want him to find me.”

“Are you safe here? Now?”

“Yes. Even if word got out. Even if he somehow found out about Eastbrooke and the formal, he wouldn’t know I’m here. Everyone thinks we’re staying at the hotel where all the parties are.” 

“We were smart to come here then?”

“Yeah, we were.”

“So, can we go back to enjoying our night? Tonight was supposed to be all about us.”

“It was an amazing night. Perfect, really.”

“Come on. Let’s start over,” he says with a grin, pulling me out of the room and taking me down the elevator to the lobby.

He lets the door to the elevator shut without getting out, pushes the button for our floor, then pins me in the corner and gives me a steamy kiss. 

“I had a great time tonight,” he says. “But, I will admit, I’ve been thinking a lot about what will happen when we get back to our room.”

I kiss him deeply and say exactly what my heart feels. “You know the heartbreakingly beautiful love?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought it happened tonight.”

“The heartbreaking part is never going to happen, Boots.” He wags the key in my face. “And, just so you know, when we get some privacy, the kisses are gonna be a whole lot hotter.”

We barely get in the room before he has me pinned against the bathroom door, kissing me hard. Running his hands roughly across my body, all the pent up things he’s been feeling coming out in his touch. And the freedom I finally feel from his knowing the truth has mixed up inside me to form something practically combustible. 

His hands are behind my back, searching for my zipper.

“Side,” I manage to say between kisses. 

His hands dance around my cleavage, finally coming to rest on the zipper.

A quick zip sends my dress falling to the floor. 

I’m doing my best to get him naked as fast as possible.

Unbuttoning his shirt.

Frantically pulling it off. 

Unzipping his pants. 

Once we’re down to just our underwear, he picks me up and carries me to the bed, where he quickly spreads my knees apart and kisses his way down my stomach.

He pulls off my thong as I push off his sliders.

The Titan is ready for action. 

I’m tilting my hips toward him, my body begging. 

The tip of the Titan is touching the damp, steamy edges of the exact place I want it to go, and I’m waiting for him to move his fingers out of the way and plunge it deep inside me. 

Aiden takes a deep breath.

Then stops. 

“Boots? Do you want to?”

“Of course I want to.”

“I know, but . . .”

“But what?”

He rolls off me. “I just want it to be perfect. The perfect night. When we look back on it, I don’t want you to remember crying. I don’t want you to remember questioning my feelings or thinking I walked out on you. And after seeing your script for tonight . . .”

“You read ahead?”

“Yeah.”

I roll over on my side and run my hand down his chest. “In my script, we did it.”

“And it was a perfect moment where we both knew it was right. I want that for you. For us.”

“Nothing about us has ever followed a script.”

“I don’t want it to. And, deep down, I don’t think you want it to, either.” 

“So, what do you wanna do?” 

“How about a bath?”

“No sliders?”

He grins. “No sliders.”

My eyes follow his naked butt as he goes into the bathroom and turns on the water. 

A few minutes later, he brings me out a fluffy robe. I snuggle up to it. “It’s warm.”

“They have a towel heater.”

“Nice.”

I follow him into the bathroom and add a bunch of bubbles to the bath. 

 

Once we’re in the tub and I’m leaning against his chest, I say, “I’m tired, Aiden.” 

“I know you are, baby,” he says, kissing my shoulder. “Just think. Tomorrow at this time, we’ll be back at the loft.”

“A day of relaxation before I start to work.”

“Do I get to come watch you film?”

“You watched every one of my play practices.”

“That’s because you’re amazing.”

“It had to be boring.”

“It wasn’t.”

“I’ll let you come if you promise me two things: you won’t get jealous and you promise to leave if you get bored.”

“Deal,” he says, cupping warm water in his hand and pouring it across my chest. 

I run my fingers lazily down his arm and notice something. 

“Aiden, did you take your wish bracelet off because it didn’t look good with your suit?”

He holds up his wrist, chuckles, and shakes his head. “Well, I’ll be damned. You were right.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me it’d fall off once I got my wish.”

“What did you wish for?”

He pushes my hair off my shoulders and kisses my neck. Then his mouth is against my ear. “I wished that someday you’d trust me enough to tell me the truth.”