The questions sound benign, and since I can’t detect anything nasty behind them, I answer. “So far just the X Games in November, but it might be good to get another competition in before that. How about you?”

  Camila turns to Donnie. “Are there any spots left at Apexx?”

  Apexx is in October, a flight away in Florida, but I’d be there in a second if I could get on the roster.

  Donnie looks at me. “I might be able to make space for one more.” He pauses and turns his beady eyes on Beck. “If we get one more on the men’s roster, that is. What do you think, Beck? Last time we reached out you said you’d be too busy with Brazen and taking a little breather after your big tour and Southskate. But we’d love to have you.”

  Beck’s eyes flash but he plays it cool. “You shouldn’t be negotiating for me in order to get Jordan on the roster. I’m actually surprised you haven’t reached out to her already. You know she placed second to Sarah Kase on vert at Southskate, and was right up there on street too.”

  Donnie doesn’t look at me, preferring to talk to Beck about me instead as he responds, “She’s still an unknown. All the Shred Live ladies will be there, and they’ve got the world watching. Most of the Shred Live guys too, if you want another shot at showing them who’s on top.”

  An unknown? Funny how that stings, when not so long ago I wished I could go back to being just that.

  Sick of them talking about me like I’m not right here, I tell Donnie, “You know, it’s fine. We’re pretty busy this fall anyway. Beck, we still need to talk to Eileen before she gets swarmed.”

  He takes my lead, and without another word, we sidestep around Camila and Donnie. I’m still uncertain if Camila was trying to be nice and make peace just now or not. Why was she going after Beck so hard on Shred Live if she’s with Donnie Guzman? Was she with him then? Was it all just a game for air time? I can’t relate to women like her, so it’s hard to put myself in her shoes and figure out her motives.

  Eileen is surrounded now, with a line forming as people wait to talk to her. The girlfriend, however, spots Beck and recognizes him, calling him over. I feel a little weird moving in front of all the others, but this is one time when I don’t mind leaning on Beck’s popularity to get what I want. My heart beats a little quicker as we get to the inner circle.

  “Beckett, it’s great to see you again.” They hug, and I’m hit with a twinge of discomfort. Beck is on a hug-level basis with so many people, and it’s a little overwhelming. There are still moments like this when I’m reminded who he is, how well connected and well loved, and I feel small and unworthy. A college sophomore and a relative unknown on the skateboarding scene. I’m sure the way Donnie Guzman treated me just now didn’t help get me in a good mindset.

  But then Whitney turns her smile on me, and the depressing train of thought flies away.

  “Jordan Slattery!” She beams, and when she tells me she’s so excited to finally meet me, I actually believe her. “I’ve been following you online and just love all your posts. The videos of the two of you skating together are my favorites.”

  She follows me on social media? How did I not know this? Right, I didn’t know who she was until a few minutes ago, but if I’d known she was Eileen’s girlfriend… My head is spinning.

  I start to ask her about her foundation, but she tugs Eileen’s arm, getting her attention. “Baby, this is the couple I was telling you about! Beckett Steele and Jordan Slattery.”

  Eileen smiles at us and I try not to faint as she puts out her hand to shake. “Whitney has a big crush on you two. I didn’t know you could have a couple crush but I see it now, how that can happen.” She squints at us like she’s seeing us through her girlfriend’s eyes. “Yeah, you two are pretty darn cute.”

  I’m too shocked to speak, but Beck isn’t the least bit rattled as he thanks the two women for coming and quickly moves into a conversation about Brazen teaming up with Whitney’s foundation. He’s aware of the pressing crowds waiting to speak to Eileen and efficiently relays some ideas as if he’s been strategizing about this for months. Whitney asks him to follow up with her next week and we say our goodbyes before we overstay our chit chat time. I’m not sure how celebrity party etiquette goes exactly, but I’m thinking Beck just played it perfectly.

  Beck leans down so his lips brush my neck. I shiver, and try to ignore the onslaught of lust. This would be a very inconvenient time to be turned on, but really, how can I even help it?

  “You okay if I start ticking off the list of people I need to connect with tonight? I want to get through it before we’re derailed by another Donnie/Camila situation.”

  “Oh yeah, of course.” This is his job, and while I’m not real psyched to separate from him, especially knowing it isn’t all friendly company tonight, I push him away. “Go do your thing, VP.”

  “No, you’re coming with me,” he says with a frown, like I’m an idiot for assuming otherwise.

  But I’m only your nineteen-year-old unknown girlfriend, a voice says in my head. I ignore it, because Beck is telling me with his words, the expression on his face, and the hand on the small of my back, that he doesn’t see me that way. Or if he does, that isn’t all he sees. He wants me with him, and if I beg off or slip away, I can already tell he’ll be pissed.

  I lift up on my toes and pull his head down so my lips can brush his earlobe as his did mine a moment ago. “But Beck, I’m having trouble dealing with the businessman version of you. It’s really getting me hot and bothered.” I’m pretty sure Beck’s eyes dilate at my admission.

  “If I have to endure you in that dress all night, you can handle another hour of me in biz mode.” He brushes his knuckles over my hip, and I try to tamp down the heat building low in my belly. But who am I kidding? It’s all versions of Beck that get me hot and bothered. Skateboarder, vice prez, big brother, even son when we join his parents later that night. I’m just about to comment that we’ve managed to avoid encountering any more Camila/Donnie type guests, when I spot Beckett’s dad beelining in our direction.

  Chapter Six

  Beck

  Jordan tugs on my arm and I look down at her. “What’s up?”

  “Did Griff invite your dad?”

  “No, why?”

  “He’s here.”

  My eyes snap up to look in the direction where Jordan flicks hers. Sure enough, my father is headed for me. I wouldn’t put it past him to show without an invite, the entitled jerk he is, but I note the woman beside him. Vienna, my agent. Griff’s agent, or former agent now that he doesn’t compete. Did she invite him? I know they both live in the same city not far from Jay Beach, but the odds of them running in the same circles seems low. Or maybe not.

  My dad’s been recognized as one of the top plastic surgeons in the state, maybe even the nation, I’m not sure, for years now. I’ve seen his name and even pictures in magazines. Because of that recognition, he’s expensive and has an exclusive clientele. It feeds his ego when he treats celebrities, and sometimes he even manages to wiggle his way into their social circles. They both live in one of the most celeb-heavy suburbs of LA. It’s completely possible Dad’s new lady friend is my agent.

  My good mood threatens to turn as my mind accepts what’s happening here.

  The man knows full well he’s not welcome tonight, but no one watching would suspect it with the way he approaches us. “Beckett, it’s good to see you.” He also knows I won’t make a scene at such an important event, and goes in for a hug.

  “Marie, Marco, nice to see you both,” he greets them with that same entitlement and arrogance that makes me feel a little sick. It’s not that I never noticed it before, but at some point over the past year or so, I’ve stopped making myself tolerate it. Stopped trying to convince myself he’s anything but what he’s so clearly shown me he is: a self-involved jerk.

  My mom plays along, responding politely. She accepted long ago what he is and while seeing her ex-husband is never exactly pleasant, she doesn’t get rattled. They’ve run into one another plenty over the years, usually because of my skateboarding competitions, and as far as I can tell, Mom doesn’t let him get to her. She does seem to be eyeing him suspiciously tonight though, probably noting my annoyance at seeing him and wondering how he got in if he wasn’t invited.

  Dad turns to Jordan. “Great seeing you again, Jordan. How have you been?” Instead of shaking her hand he wraps both of his around one of hers and gives it a pat, conveying she’s extra special.

  “I’m fine.”

  Vienna finally gets the nerve to address me. “Beck, I’ve been trying to call you all week,” she says. “I guess now that I’ve got you in person I can tell you that I’m here with your dad.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” She looks flustered, and I try not to jump to conclusions, but damn. What is she doing with him? Vienna’s not only a good decade or two older than Dad’s usual women, but she’s also smart, savvy, and got her own thriving career. So, not his type.

  Vienna asks how everything is going tonight, and engages my mom and step-dad, whom she met once before years ago. I’m only half engaged myself because Dad has turned to Jordan for some private discussion. I hear him apologizing for the photos from the wedding, explaining he now understands from Vienna just how much havoc they wreaked. He doesn’t understand though, not really. Those pictures made the minor trolling and spiteful comments go from tolerable to unendurable. It’s what caused my girl to take a crash that sent her to the ER, had her out of college a semester, and even made her break up with me. We’re still wondering when or if there will be more backlash from that. Suddenly, I’m not feeling like I can fake my way through this and hold it together for Griff’s sake. When I turn and see Dad’s hand on Jordan’s shoulder, false sincerity on his face, I see red.

  “You know what? I’m not doing this.” I grab Jordan’s hand and practically rip her away from my dad. If I thought I’d resolved everything with Dad by shutting him down on one phone call, I was wrong. Years of unexpressed anger rise to the surface, and I’m feeling a little unhinged with the power of those emotions.

  It’s not until we’re a safe distance away that I realize I’m half dragging Jordan with me. My hold softens but I don’t let her go, even as I apologize.

  There’s a mixture of confusion and concern on her face, but we’re not hashing this out here. I can already feel the weight of curious eyes, and I don’t need to bring my daddy issues to Brazen’s doorstep. Dad might have been hoping for that outcome, but I’ve still got some self-control.

  We make it out the back door and I gulp in the cooler air.

  Jordan tentatively rubs my back as I look up at the sky and attempt to bring myself down a few notches.

  “What do you need?” she asks. In this moment, I am so damn grateful for her. She doesn’t push about what the hell my dad’s doing with my agent or force me to try to explain why I’m practically shaking over such a seemingly benign exchange.

  “Is there a parking garage around here?” I wonder. I’d love to get some speed and rip down an empty lot.

  “I’m not sure, and could be busy on a Saturday night.”

  She pulls me toward her, and the shaking subsides. “I’ve got a better idea.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “You’re not the only one who’s broken some rules to get that rush.”

  “What rush are we talking about?”

  “Downhill speed on a skateboard. Get your mind out of the gutter, Beck, you’re the only one I’ve ever had the other kind of rush with.”

  That reminder definitely brings my mood up a few notches.

  “Wait here, I’ll grab our boards.” She’s only gone a minute, but it’s enough time for some guilt to set in about ditching the party.

  Jordan opens the door and hands me my board. “Maybe we should wait until the party wraps up,” I tell her.

  “Hey, I know you’re the vice president, and Griff is your best friend, but we’ll only be gone a little while. You already talked to everyone on your list, and you’ll only spend the next hour dodging your dad anyway. Let’s take a break and I’m sure it will still be in full swing when we get back. I mean, there are over two hundred people in there, I doubt anyone will notice we’re gone.”

  “You’ve convinced me,” I admit, grabbing her hand and stepping on my board. “Where to?”

  She takes me through the downtown sidewalks toward the mansions overlooking the ocean.

  “How do you feel about climbing a fence to get on private property?” she asks as we get closer to the gated community.

  “If it’s for a good cause, I’m down.”

  “So I’ve never been in there, but every time we drive by I think about how there’s gotta be some great hills with zero traffic.”

  The homes are all on a hill, spread out on large-sized lots.

  “Good call, Hotshot. I bet half the homes in there are celebrities’ second homes and empty anyway.”

  The gate is closed of course, but there’s no attendant. Assuming there’s a security camera at the gate, we skirt the outside until we reach the corner where the community’s clubhouse and pool are located. We can’t actually see a pool since the gate is really a giant wall, but we can smell the chlorine. We stand there for a minute, trying to figure out how we’re going to climb a ten-foot wall.

  “All right, I got it.” Jordan takes a couple steps forward. “I stand on your shoulders and get over. Then I find something over there you can use to climb up.”

  “What if you get stuck in there and can’t find anything to climb back over?”

  “I’ll find something. And if I don’t I’ll just hide by the gate until someone finally opens it. Or find an empty house to sleep in,” she deadpans.

  I should rally and be the responsible one here. I’m the vice president of Brazen, and if we got caught it wouldn’t only be bad for me. But I’ve made a lot of sacrifices for Brazen already, and I’m in the mood to be a little rebellious. So I crouch down, and Jordan sits on my shoulders before I stand up. She then moves to her feet and a few seconds later, her weight is gone as she lifts herself to the top of the fence.

  “What’s over there?”

  “Dude, there’s an actual ladder leaning against the pool house. It’s like this was meant to be.”

  “Dude? You’re calling me dude now?”

  She looks down at me with a grin. “Did you hear me? There’s a ladder. This is almost too easy.”

  And with that, she swings her legs over the other side and jumps down ten feet. My heart drops to my stomach, and I wait with no view of what’s happening. Within a few minutes, I hear a soft bang on the other side. Did she seriously find a ladder? A moment later Jordan’s head pops up again and then she’s sitting on the ledge, hoisting the ladder up. It’s a hell of a big ladder, and I hold my breath, bracing to catch her. It’s not until she’s swung it over to my side and I’ve caught it that I let myself appreciate the view. Jordan in a tight dress, legs on either side of the fence, thankfully with no one but me to flash. I make quick work of climbing the ladder and pull it back up behind me.

  Even if it turns out the downhill roads back here are a bust, this is exactly the kind of fun I need. Totally unnecessary risk taking is underrated.

  But it’s not a bust. Not at all.

  As we zoom down the empty road a few minutes later, Jordan grabs my hand. We glance at each other and it’s taking effort not to let out wild screams to match our moods.

  There’s a tree-lined loop that goes around the community, climbing slowly with a steep hill down the other side that takes a nice big carving turn to ride out the bottom. We circle around it a half dozen times, sweat pouring from us after climbing up each time. But it’s totally worth the effort for the speed on the downhill, wind whipping our faces.

  I almost forget we have to get back to the party, but when we finally climb back over the fence, my blood isn’t pumping with anger anymore. Nope, this time it’s the kind of sensation that can only come from Jordan Slattery. A mixture of adrenaline and lust.

  Chapter Seven

  Jordan

  I haven’t told anyone that Sydney, Fliss, and Daisy are in my econ class. It’s an intro course, with over one hundred students in the lecture hall, and so far I’ve been able to keep my distance. It’s been a month since the birthday party and it’s looking like Sydney’s moved on. It’s hard to believe that after years of friendship with my roommates she’s just going to choose Fliss and the sorority and let them go, but maybe she’s accepted they aren’t her people? Doubt it. I’m sure she’s blaming me for taking her friends away, for them not chasing after her, but I’m seeing things from my roommates’ perspective, and I don’t feel guilty.

  It’s been pretty easy to avoid them. I sit on one side of the lecture hall and they sit on the other; if I take my time leaving, they’re gone first. Today is different though. All three girls are waiting for me in the hallway.

  My hands grip my backpack as I face them. I’ve been bracing myself for this, and I’m not going to run from it.

  “Can we talk?” Sydney asks.

  She sounds different, not as snide, but I don’t let my defensive guard down just yet. “I’m listening,” I tell her.

  “We don’t want to be enemies with you. And I definitely don’t want to be enemies with my best friends from home.”

  “I’m not sure we’re enemies. We’re not fighting or anything. It seems to be working all right, avoiding each other.”

  Syd puffs out her cheeks and lets out a long breath, blowing her blonde hair away from her face as she does.

  “Look, Fliss is my new best friend. She’s been good to me. And I know that as long as you all think she was the one harassing you on Instagram, I’m on the outs with the rest of you.”

  My eyes flick to Fliss, who’s keeping her expression carefully blank. It’s an improvement from the disdain she’s usually throwing my way.