“Yup, I am.” I give a sheepish look. “Believe me, I was in the doghouse for that, and I deserved to be. What I said about Vaughn’s ex-boyfriend was uncalled for. Not only that, but it was juvenile and completely inappropriate. I sincerely regret my behavior, and I’m not making any excuses for it. I disrespected my girlfriend and her ex, and my hurtful words are more of a reflection about me and how I still have a lot of growing up to do. If anyone isn’t a man, it’s me.”

She’s nodding fervently. “Have you apologized to them in person?”

“I’ve apologized to Vaughn,” I lie, though I do plan on doing that when I get home. But I can’t act like there’s any strife in our relationship, not in front of these vultures. “She forgave me. She understood I was just being a jealous caveman but made me promise not to do it again. As for…” I trail off, because I have no idea what W is even short for.

“Mr. Wilkerson?” she fills in.

His name is W. Wilkerson? For fuck’s sake.

“As for Vaughn’s ex,” I continue, “I do intend to call him and apologize. What I said about him was untrue. He’s a great guy.” Gag. “He and Vaughn have history. He’s still a good friend of hers, and the jealous dude in me needs to understand and accept that. Anyway—” I flash a million-dollar smile “—thanks for taking the time to chat with me.”

Then I give a little salute and stride off to where Tyrese is waiting for me.

His dark eyes flicker with humor. “Claudia is going to…” He drifts off.

“What?” I ask warily. “Kill me?”

“For once? I don’t think so.” He shakes his head in amazement. “I think she might send you a fruit basket, dude.”

I snort as we get into the Escalade. Truthfully, I don’t care what Claudia thinks about this. All that matters to me is that Vaughn forgives me. And I’m confident she will, especially after she hears the mature statement I just gave.

Sure, I still think her boyfriend is a jackass who doesn’t deserve her, but so what? I’m not going to win her over by pointing out W’s weaknesses.

I’m going to do it by pointing out my strengths.

I feel totally rejuvenated as Ty drives us away from the hotel. I find myself tapping my foot, drumming my fingers against my thighs. I’m energized, like there’s a live wire running through my body, making it crackle with electricity.

“We’re not going home,” I tell Ty.

He glances over. “Where we going, then?”

“The studio.” My fingers drum harder. “I’m feeling inspired.”

24

HIM

1doodlebug1 @OakleyFord_stanNo1 Oakley is so amazing. I’ve watched the apology a hundred times. I cldn’t love him more.

OakleyFord_stanNo1 @1doodlebug1 same. so much. Proves why he’s worthy of our stanning.

OakleyFord_stanNo1 @1doodlebug1 see screenshot @OakleyFord you’re forgiven

Oakley Ford Verified @VeryVaughn I am sorry

@OakleyFord I kno. 4 the rec, I think you’re a real man.

@OakleyFord_stanNo1 thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!! They’re so cute. I wish I cld see their tweets all the time!

Vaughn is acting strange. She’s quiet and withdrawn and she’s made only one sarcastic remark all evening, which tells me that my public apology didn’t make up for dissing her boyfriend in the first place.

“You having a good time?” I ask as we move away from the barbecue line and walk farther down the sand to a quieter area. Our paper plates are piled with hot dogs and macaroni salad.

“Sure,” she says noncommittally. “You?”

“This barbecue’s sick. I’m having a blast.”

I’m not lying, either. I was dreading this thing all day, ever since Claudia called this morning to inform me I was hanging out with Vaughn’s family tonight. First, because Vaughn and I haven’t talked since the whole W thing, and second, because attending a charity barbecue for Cardell Hills Middle School, where Vaughn’s little brothers go to school, seemed like a recipe for disaster.

I was expecting to be under a microscope all evening, but to my surprise, nobody even cares that I’m here. The barbecue is on El Segundo beach, but the school hired security guards to keep interlopers from sneaking into the party and eating all the food. Not that anyone is going to sneak into a boring middle school event. The guest list is a mixture of sixth to eighth graders, teachers and parents. Everyone here is either under thirteen or over forty.

This is about as anonymous as I’ve ever been, and it’s the best feeling in the world. The only thing that would make it better is if my date wasn’t sulking, but that’s my own fault.

I really need to stop being such an ass to Vaughn.

And I really need to stop thinking about kissing her again.

“Pass it ’ere! I’m open!” one of the twins shouts to a classmate.

I jerk out of my thoughts and turn toward the soccer game that’s in progress a hundred yards away. Spencer and Shane are playing on the same team, but I can’t tell them apart because they’re both wearing blue T-shirts and khaki cargo shorts.

But Vaughn knows which one is which, because she yells, “Way to go, Spence!” and cheers loudly when one of the blue-shirted boys scores a goal.

I cheer, too, and so does Paisley, who’s standing a few feet away from us chatting with Ty. Vaughn’s sister is so obviously into Ty that it makes me smirk. She’s blushing, and her eyes widen as he touches her arm to shift her out of the way when a group of kids comes whizzing past them.

Ty has a weirdly gentle look in his dark eyes as he moves her to safety. Oh, man. I don’t think it’s one-sided.

“I think your sister and my bodyguard are making a love connection,” I tell Vaughn, hoping the bit of gossip might snap her out of her Downer Debbie mood.

It does, sort of. She looks over at them and smiles faintly. “Maybe.”

“It sucks that nothing can happen between them.”

“Why not?”

“Ty’ll never date anyone who works for Jim,” I explain. “It’d be too messy if they broke up.”

“Paisley works for Jim’s brother.”

“It’s pretty much the same thing.”

“Maybe they won’t break up. Maybe they’ll fall in love and get married and have ten kids and grow blissfully old together.”

There’s a note of desperation in her tone that makes me uneasy. “You okay?”

She sighs. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Just eat your hot dog.”

I take a bite and she turns back to watch the twins’ soccer game. I keep watching her. I don’t like quiet Vaughn. I’d rather she make smartass comments to me.

“What’s wrong?” I push.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Is this about the shit I said about W?”

Her features instantly tighten at the mention of W’s name. “No. I accepted your apology.” There’s a sharp bite to her tone. “I even Tweeted about how mature and awesome you are, remember?”

“We both know your Tweets are just orders from Claudia.” I search her shuttered expression. “Do you really forgive me for trashing him?”

“Yes. God. I forgive you, okay? Can we please not talk about W?”

A crease digs into my forehead. “Why not?”

Before she can respond, two girls shyly approach us. One has pigtails and the other has an adorable pixie cut. They don’t look older than eleven or twelve, and they’re practically trembling with apprehension as one of them holds out her phone.

“Hi. Um…Oakley, w-w-w-would you…c-c-c-c-could we get a picture with you?” Pigtails stutters.

I swallow a laugh. “’Course.”

The two turn bright red and stare at me for a long, uncomfortable moment.

“I’ll take it,” Vaughn finally intervenes, reaching for the cell phone.

I’m about two feet taller than these girls, so I have to crouch on the sand between them. I tense up as I wait for them to paw at me, but they don’t. They’re so painfully timid and fearful standing on either side of me, and for the first time in, well, ever, I gesture for them to come closer. “C’mere, otherwise we won’t all fit in the picture.”