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“Are you totally freaking out?”
I look down at the pool to find my stepsister, Georgina, standing in the shallow end below me, her hazel eyes twinkling with amusement.
“You knew they were coming today, didn’t you?” I whisper-shout. “You didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to puke in the pool?”
Georgina chuckles. “No, I swear. If I’d known, I would have warned you. I know how much you love that band.”
“I don’t love them. I’m obsessed with them.” I slide into the water, up to my waist, and grab Georgina’s hand. “Georgie. Please. Hold my hand while I regain my equilibrium, or I might pass out and sink to the bottom of the pool, never to rise again.”
“Oh, God. We don’t want that.” She squeezes my hand. “I’ve got you, baby. Take deep breaths.”
I take several deep breaths before murmuring, “Although, I must admit, there are worse ways to go than ‘Death by 22 Goats.’”
“Well, if you’re going to die today, then you should at least say hello to your favorite band. Come on.”
“Oh, no.” I rip my hand from hers.
“Ally.”
Georgina tries to retake my hand, but I hide it behind my back.
“Life is short, honey,” she says. “Let’s say a quick little hello.”
“I can’t. Please, Georgie. Maybe at the party tonight I’ll be able to work up the courage. But I need time to process this miracle. It’s just too much for my little brain to comprehend that the faces I’ve watched a million times in the ‘People Like Us’ video are standing right there, in real life.”
“It’s crazy for me, too, and I’m not even obsessed with them.”
I let my gaze return to Fish. He’s laughing with his friends. Looking adorable and sweet, yet oh so cool.
“Oh boy,” Georgina says, chuckling.
I peel my eyes off Fish. “What?”
“You’re thirsting hard, sister.”
I frown. “I’m not thirsting. I’m simply starstruck.”
Georgina smirks. “You’re thirsting.” She clucks her tongue. “Which one is making you drool like that?”
I roll my eyes. Damn. Georgina knows me too well. “The tall one with the shaggy hair. Fish. He’s their bassist.” I swoon. “I think I’m in love.”
Georgina giggles and peeks at Fish. “I should have known he’d be your choice. He’s totally your type.”
“Can a girl who’s never had a boyfriend truly be said to have a type?”
“Of course. Every boy you’ve ever crushed on, whether in real life or a celebrity, has always been the same type as that guy.”
“The same how? My crushes are all over the map. Every race and physical type. The only thing they have in common is they don’t know I’m alive. Well, or they’re gay or they ‘only want to be friends.’ Either way, they’re not interested in me. Is that my type—‘Guys Not Interested in Alessandra Tennison?’”
“I meant they’ve all got the same vibe. They’re all emo artist hipster boy-next-door types. Usually, with a very strong overlay of ‘wouldn’t hurt a fly.’ Just like Fish.”
I make a face that concedes Georgina’s point. “Add ‘great sense of humor’ to your laundry list, and I think you’ve perfectly described my ideal man.”
Movement at the entrance to the patio diverts my attention. And when I behold the celebrity walking into the patio area, I gasp loudly. It’s Aloha Carmichael. The Disney-star-turned-pop-star I grew up watching on TV. She’s entering the patio with a beautiful, muscular Black man, who’s holding her hand, and a fit blond guy who’s holding hands with an adorable brunette.
“Georgie!” I whisper, indicating the incoming foursome. “Look!”
Georgina looks where I’m pointing and gasps the same way I did a moment ago.
“Do you recognize the people she’s with?” I ask.
“Yeah, I researched tonight’s guest list, so I’d know everyone on sight.” Georgina gestures to the handsome man holding Aloha’s hand. “That’s her husband, Zander Shaw. Her bodyguard.” She gestures to the fit blond guy. “And that’s Keane Morgan—the brother of Dax Morgan.”
“Oh, wow.” I look from the fit blond dude to the lead singer of 22 Goats. “Yeah, I can see the resemblance.”
Georgina tells me Keane Morgan is an actor on some popular Netflix show I’ve never watched. And that his wife, Madelyn, is a documentary filmmaker who was nominated for an Academy Award last year. We babble about how beautiful and talented Aloha is. How striking she is in person. We talk about how much we both adored her Disney show—It’s Aloha!—as kids. But, finally, we’re interrupted by Kat, the pregnant blonde in a string bikini, who’s standing over us on the pool ledge.
“Georgina?” Kat calls out. “You’re planning to interview the Goats for the magazine, right? Would you like an introduction now?”
“I’d love one! Thank you, Kat.”
Wordlessly, Georgina grabs my arm and begins pulling me through the shallow end of the pool with her, straight toward the steps. And I’m too excited—also, too shocked—to pull away or say a word in protest. Apparently, whether I’m ready or not, I’m going to meet 22 Goats now. All three members. Including the cute-as-hell bass player who’s been making my pulse race since the minute he walked into the party.
