Read Suspicion Page 5


  "He's with Poppy," she replied, lowering her voice.

  A slick of dread washed down my spine, but I shoved it aside. Somehow Poppy always seemed to manage to corner Upton. But I wasn't just going to stand there and wait for them to come back.

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  I was going to go get my man. Show her I was not about to be intimidated.

  "Thanks." I tucked my black clutch under my arm, strode purposefully across the lobby. Suddenly four-inch heels were not an issue. Adrenaline can be such a fabulous thing.

  Leather chairs dotted the lounge and several older men smoked cigars near yet another bar. The lighting was darker in here and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but when they did I saw Upton and Poppy standing in the corner near a grand piano, arguing.

  "If you think I'm just going to take this you are absolutely mad," Poppy said, her expression incredulous.

  "Then I suppose I'm mad," Upton replied, resting his hand on the piano.

  "Everything okay?" I asked loudly, walking over to them.

  Poppy whirled around at the sound of my voice. Her one-shouldered dress was covered with colorful swirling stripes. I suppose it was made by some famous designer, but it looked like something I could get at Target for $14.99.

  "I wish I had never laid eyes on you," she snapped at me, striding past. Then she paused and turned around to face me. "Just so we're clear, that wasn't a death threat, Miss Paranoia. I don't want the coppers to come banging down my door."

  Then she laughed and walked away. Through the open door, I saw Daniel make a beeline for her. He reached for her in a solicitous way, but she raised her hand and kept walking, completely blowing him off. Daniel's jaw clenched. Then he turned around and drove his

  SUSPICION

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  fist into one of the columns near the wall. I flinched as a few people nearby yelped in surprise. Then Daniel took off out the back door of the hotel, his hand tucked under his arm.

  "What was that all about?" I asked.

  "That was Daniel not controlling his infamous temper," Upton replied, placing his hands on my shoulders from behind. "You look gorgeous, by the way," he said in my ear, sending a thrill down my side. He kissed my shoulder and nuzzled my neck. Suddenly, all I could think about was getting him alone. This guy had a major effect on my insides.

  But I couldn't let myself get distracted.

  "Thanks," I replied, turning around. "But I wasn't talking about Daniel. What were you and Poppy arguing about? "

  Upton put his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. "She's just cross because I backed out of a fund-raiser. It's this thing in London her parents throw every spring, and I'd said I'd take her, but I can't."

  "Why not?" I asked.

  Upton raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Do you really have to ask?"

  I blushed. "Answer please," I joked.

  "Well, if you must know, I have a feeling I'm not going to be going out on many dates with other girls from now on," he said, running his fingertip down my cheek. "After you, everyone else would be sodding boring. I couldn't bear it."

  I grinned uncontrollably. "Really?"

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  "Really," he replied.

  I couldn't believe it. Upton the ultimate player was actually going to stop playing ... because of me. My heart fluttered in my chest like a hyper butterfly.

  Upton leaned down and touched his lips to mine. It was a deep kiss. Full of meaning and intent and mushy emotions I would normally get lost in. But this time, I couldn't stop ... thinking. Did canceling a date three months from now mean that he wanted to stay together? That he wanted to do a long-distance thing? Could a lifelong player like himself really go from sixty to zero that quickly? Before long I found myself pulling away from him.

  "That's really sweet, Upton, but.. ."

  "But what?" he asked.

  "You're going to be in England and I'll be in Connecticut," I said, lifting a shoulder. "I don't expect you to be my long-distance boyfriend."

  "What if I want to be?" Upton asked without hesitation, pushing his hands into his pockets.

  Yes. Yes, yes, yes. That was all I wanted to say in that moment. Upton was so much more mature than the guys I was used to. So easygoing and drama free (if you didn't count his crazy exes). I would have loved to have had a long-term boyfriend like him. He made me feel safe and loved and most of all ... carefree. He saw the world as full of possibility, and he made me see it that way too.

  But then my rational side kicked in. Maybe Upton had told me he was falling in love with me, but I didn't exactly expect that to translate

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  into a future for us. It was great that he was offering to be my one and only, but what if he went back to England and realized he couldn't do it? Even if he didn't, I knew I'd always be suspicious. Did I really want to be hanging out at Easton, all celibate and alone, wondering where he was at every moment. .. and with whom?

  "Can I think about this?" I asked. "It's kind of a new concept forme."

  "Take all the time you need," Upton said, reaching for my hand with a smile. He seemed pretty confident that I'd eventually agree. "In the meantime, I was thinking we should do something fun together tomorrow. Something that will get our minds off everything that's happened in the last few days."

  "I don't know. Every time we do something fun I almost end up dead," I said, only half joking.

  Upton laughed as we walked back into the lobby together. "Are you turning me down?"

  "Not exactly," I said, swinging our hands between us. "What if we just do something chill? Lay low for a day."

  Upton paused and looked at me in a suggestive way. "Lay low? I like the sound of that."

  "Ha-ha," I said flatly. "You're hilarious."

  He pulled me to him and gave me another quick, firm kiss. "Whatever you want," he said, looking me in the eye. "I'm there. The next few days ... they're all about you."

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  BREAKFAST DATE

  I didn't sleep all night. All I could think about were Upton and his proposal. This thing with him was supposed to be just a vacation fling. Nothing more. Something fun to pass the time. Yes, I had developed feelings for him over the past week. Serious feelings. But were they the kind of feelings that could sustain a long-distance relationship? A relationship that would span a whole ocean? Separate continents? Different time zones?

  And what about Josh? Yes, I knew he was with Ivy, but the last time I'd seen him he'd implied--practically stated--that he still loved me. If there was a chance that he and I could be together, did I really want to risk that?

  Wait. No. I wasn't just going to sit around like a loser and wait for Josh to wake up and smell the true love. He hadn't even called me or texted me once since I'd been here. Not even on Christmas Day.

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  But if I stayed with Upton, when would I ever see him? Holidays? Long weekends? I knew what my friends would say. I was only sixteen. Now was not the time to become a nun.

  When my phone beeped at 6 a.m., I was so excited for a distraction I fell out of my bed reaching for it.

  The text was from Sawyer, the message simple:

  Shutters for bfast? 7?

  Oh, I was so in. If I didn't get out of this room soon, I was going to start clawing the stucco walls, which would seriously screw up the French manicure Taylor had given me after I'd gotten out of the hospital. Maybe Sawyer would even have some advice for me. He knew Upton, and he seemed like a levelheaded guy. This could be exactly what I needed. I texted back.

  Im there!

  I showered quickly and dressed in a simple blue skirt and white T-shirt, bringing along my hoodie just in case. My hair was still slightly damp when I padded through the door of Shutters an hour later in my flip-flops, having borrowed one of the Langes' mopeds to get myself there. (Wakingup Noelle for her car keys was not an option. Unless I wanted to lose a limb.)

  The restaurant was dotted with diners, mostly couples, but not nearly as crowded as it would be in a couple
of hours when the regulars would roll in for their breakfast. Sawyer was sitting at the corner table that Poppy, Paige, and Sienna seemed to prefer, and for once, his face wasn't bent toward a book. He was watching the door intently and stood up when I arrived. His black T-shirt was

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  as wrinkled as if he'd slept in it, and his cargo shorts hung loosely on his thin frame. As always, his blond hair was brushed forward toward his face.

  "Can I help you?" the maitre d' asked.

  "Just meeting a friend," I said, gesturing in Sawyer's direction.

  The man smiled and I wove my way around the tables to join Sawyer. The morning breeze was oddly cool and almost crisp. I untied my sweatshirt from around my waist and pulled it on.

  "Hey, Reed. Thanks for coming," Sawyer said, sitting only after I had seated myself.

  "No problem. Is everything okay?" I asked.

  "Yeah, fine," Sawyer said. He stuffed his hands under his arms and hunkered down in his chair, trying to escape the wind. "I just couldn't sleep."

  "Me neither!" I replied, perhaps a bit too manically. For some reason, when I don't sleep, I seem to have a ton of energy. At least first thing in the morning.

  "Really?" Sawyer's face lit up. Misery loves company. "Does that happen to you a lot? "

  "Not a lot," I replied.

  Only when people are missing, or someone's stalking me, or all my friends stop talking to me, or a sexy video of me gets sent out to my entire school, or some guy I like asks me to be his long-distance girlfriend. So yeah. Hardly ever.

  "Oh." He seemed disappointed. "It happens to me all the time."

  The waiter delivered our menus and I set mine aside. After eating

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  here practically every morning of the trip, I had the thing memorized.

  "I was having deep thoughts," I confessed, crossing my arms on thetabletop.

  Sawyer raised his eyebrows as he looked up from his menu. "About what?"

  "Upton," I replied.

  "Oh." He looked down again and set the menu aside. When his eyes met mine, there was something guarded in them, even as he attempted to smile. "What about him?"

  "He wants me to be his long-distance girlfriend," I told him. "He wants me to .. . commit."

  "You don't want to do that," Sawyer said firmly. He didn't even hesitate. It was as if the words had been on the tip of his tongue for days, just waiting to vault out.

  "I don't?" I asked.

  "It's crap. Upton doesn't commit. It's not in his DNA," Sawyer replied.

  "But he-"

  "Trust me," Sawyer said in a no-nonsense tone. "Sure, he cares about you now. In the moment he's all about whoever he's with. But a girl like you . . . you're too good for him. You don't want to get in any deeper with Upton Giles. You're just going to end up hurt."

  The way he said Upton's name made it sound like an insult. Like he was talking about some gross venereal disease. My face started to burn. I might have been uncertain about committing to a transatlantic

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  relationship, but that didn't mean I didn't care about Upton. That I didn't think he was a good person. Yet here Sawyer was, insulting the guy to my face. Judging both of us, really.

  The waiter came and took our orders. My hand trembled as I handed the menu back to him. There was a hot, frustrated anger bubbling under the surface of my skin, but Sawyer seemed oblivious. He took a sip of his water and crunched on an ice cube, leaning back in his chair.

  "How do you know what kind of girl I am?" I asked.

  Sawyer blinked. "What?"

  "You barely know me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "How do you know what kind of girl I am? Maybe I am the kind of girl who wants to get in deeper with a guy like Upton. Who, by the way, has been nothing but sweet to me since I got here."

  My words hung in the air between us. Sawyer just sat there, staring at me. He didn't blush or stammer or squirm. He didn't move a muscle.

  "Sorry," he said finally. "You're right. I don't know you."

  I had no idea what to say next, but suddenly I didn't feel like being there anymore. So much for a chat with Sawyer making me feel better. My foot bounced up and down under the table, expending some of my pent-up energy. I looked away and lifted my glass, preoccupying myself with a long sip.

  "Are you mad?" he asked.

  "No," I replied. A knee-jerk no.

  'You're mad." He let out a sigh. I had yet to look at him again, but I

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  heard him scoot his chair forward and, from the corner of my eye, saw him lean his torso into the table. "Don't be mad. I'm sorry. It's just. .. you remind me so much of her, I guess I just assumed--"

  "Who do I remind you of?" I asked, finally meeting his gray eyes.

  Sawyer's face flooded with color. "No one. Forget it."

  "No. There's no 'forget it' now," I said. "Who do I remind you of?"

  He brought one hand to his forehead, pushing his thick bangs aside. "My sister. You remind me of Jen."

  My skin prickled, wondering what that meant, exactly. The waiter delivered our food--a neat stack of fruit-topped pancakes for me, scrambled eggs for Sawyer--but I didn't even look at it. Sawyer held my gaze for a brief moment, but the effort was too much for him. He glanced away.

  "It's just really hard, being here without her," Sawyer said, looking out at the ocean. "I didn't want to come, but everyone insisted. And then seeing you .. . and you with him ..."

  My heart contracted. "Was Jen with Upton?"

  Sawyer scoffed. His eyes looked glassy. "Everyone has been with Upton at some point."

  I knew this. Of course I knew this. It was all I had heard since before I'd met the guy. But my stomach turned nonetheless. Upton had been with Jen Hathaway. Sometime in the recent past, I had to assume, since it still stung Sawyer. A girl Upton had been with was dead. Had committed suicide.

  Maybe he knew more about tragedy than I imagined.

  "Anyway, I'm sorry," Sawyer said. "I didn't invite you here for this.

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  I thought ... I just thought it would be cool to hang out. You know, without everyone else."

  I took a deep breath. It was well past time to change the subject. I was grateful for the opening. "You're not big on crowds, huh?"

  "Hate them," Sawyer said with a small, but wry, smile. "Especially this one. I've known them since I was a kid, but I've never felt like they wanted me around."

  "Hmm ... I've been getting that too," I said.

  "Jen made it easier," Sawyer told me, lifting his knife. He paused. Both of us were moving slowly, as if tentatively testing the waters to make sure we wanted to continue in each other's company. "She always figured out away to get me involved."

  "Siblings can be good like that, "I said, thinking of my own brother, Scott, who had always let me hang out with his friends even when he thought I was a raving dork. I wondered how this trip might have been different if Jen were here. Whose side would she have taken? Paige, Poppy, and Sienna hadn't spoken to me once at dinner last night. Hadn't even looked in my direction. I wondered if Jen would have sided with them and given me the cold shoulder, or if she would have been okay with me and Upton.

  If Sawyer was right--if Jen and I were anything alike--I liked to think she would have been on my side.

  "That's why I was so surprised when Kiran had the idea for this party. I thought she didn't know I existed," Sawyer said as he reached for the butter. "I'm kind of nervous about it, actually."

  "Nervous?" I said. "Why?"

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  "No one's ever thrown a party for me before," he replied, blushing. "And I'm not big on the spotlight."

  "Oh. Yeah. I get that." I cut into my pancakes as a stiff breeze caused the tropical flowers to dance in their planters. My shoulders started to relax. For a minute there I'd gotten so embroiled in the drama, I'd forgotten where I was, but now the fresh air rushed over me. Soothed me. "Don't worry. I'll make sure they don't get too crazy."

  "Yeah?" Sawy
er asked hopefully.

  "Yeah," I replied. "I mean, I still think you deserve a party, but it can be more like a soiree and less of a--"

  "Abrouhaha?" he asked.

  "I was thinking hootenanny, but we can go with yours," I joked.

  Sawyer laughed and the last of the tension melted away from the table. Obviously he was still dealing with some strong emotions about his sister's death, so I wasn't about to hold a grudge about the things he'd said. I understood how that could happen. I was sure I'd said and done some regrettable things after Thomas had died. There was something reassuring about hanging out with someone who understood the dark side of things. Who wouldn't judge me if ever I suffered from verbal vomit.

  I had a feeling that Sawyer and I were going to be really good friends.

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  STORY TELLING

  I gripped the underside of my seat as the sailboat tipped sideways and sea spray showered over me, stinging the bare patches of skin. My heart lurched as we tipped even further and I looked down at my life vest. Was this skimpy little thing really going to keep me afloat when we capsized?

  "It's beautiful out here today!" Upton shouted as he raced from one side of the boat to the other, turning this crank and adjusting that rod. He wasn't even wearing a vest. What if he slipped and fell overboard? Then I'd be stranded on this boat all alone with no idea how to turn it around and save him. What the hell was he thinking, bringing me out here? What had I been thinking when I said yes? We should have been spending the day on the beach, where it was nice and dry and solid and safe.

  "Having fun yet?" he asked jovially, hanging on to a sail line and swinging back and forth.

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  I forced myself to look out at the water, trying to see this beauty he was so hopped up about, but all I could see was me. Alone. Floating. Sinking. Almost drowning.