“I want you to meet Sailor,” she says, smiling from ear to ear. “He’s a local guitarist. This is Asher’s daughter, Kenzi.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’ve been friends with your dad for a while. He’s an amazing mentor.”

“Hi…and thank you. He’s pretty great.” Sailor is too cute for words with wavy brown hair that touches his shoulders, eyes the color of the sea, and an adorable smile that reminds me of a five-year-old boy who got caught doing something naughty. He looks like 1992 Eddie Vedder.

“Are you a musician, too?” he inquires.

I shake my head with a laugh. Everyone asks me that once they realize who I am. “No…sadly that talent seems to have skipped me in this family.”

“She models,” Rayne adds. “And she does this amazing calligraphy. She wrote the words tattooed on my back in calligraphy for me, and my artist copied it. And she wrote the lettering for the title on my brother’s last CD.”

Sailor makes an impressed face and his smile widens, showing off his perfect white teeth. “Wow. I didn’t think anyone wrote in calligraphy anymore.”

My smile agrees with him. “Exactly. It’s kinda useless, I guess. I just like the way it looks. I love paper and ink.”

He tilts his head, his eyes squinting just a bit and I think both Rayne and I drool a little. “I think it’s incredibly cool. Not useless at all. I’m sure there’s a lot of people who would want that. I love the tattoo idea. I may just hit you up on that myself.”

“That would be awesome.” I wonder if he and Rayne are dating or if she called me over here in an attempt to set us up. I can’t say I mind if that’s her plan, especially after the disaster with Jason.

My question is answered by Rayne’s attention zoning in elsewhere. “Tristan is here. I haven’t seen him in a while,” she gestures over to a group of people across the yard, where Tristan is hanging out with Tor. “Is he single now?”

Hmm. So she’s hawking on Tor’s brother. “I’m not sure,” I reply. “I see him at the shop all the time but I’ve never seen him with a girl.”

Rayne continues to stare, her green eyes sparkly with interest. “He’s hot as hell just like the rest of that clan. Find out for me, Kenzi. Tor will tell you anything.”

“Okay…I guess I could ask him.”

Sailor laughs. “Why don’t you just go talk to him? Don’t make her do your dirty work.”

Rayne playfully smacks him on the arm. “You be quiet. I’m too shy to just walk up to him.”

“You’ve known him forever. It’s not like he’s a stranger.” I remind her.

“I know…but I haven’t seen him in about two years. He probably won’t even remember me.”

Sailor and I exchange a glance and smile. There’s no way Tristan won’t recognize her. She’s not the kind of girl who’s easily forgettable, even though she’s oblivious to it.

Rayne grabs Sailor’s hand, diverting his attention from me. “Let’s go get some food. My brother makes a mean burger. You want to come, Kenzi?”

“No, I’m good,” I reply. “Nice meeting you, Sailor.”

“You, too. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

I nod hopefully as Rayne drags him up to the patio where my dad is manning the grill. After the stress of dealing with rumors about prom night all week at school, I still have no appetite for food. My stomach has been in knots from the whispers and judgmental glances.

I cross the yard and sit on a bench overlooking a stone water fountain my dad had installed last summer after I told him I love the sound of water. It’s right below my bedroom window and being able to hear it when my windows are open is incredibly soothing. My father has always tried to create a calm, quiet, almost zen-like atmosphere for us, which is odd considering he’s in a loud rock band and immersed in noise of some sort most of the time.

“I hope you wore that because you remembered.”

His voice startles me, and at first I can barely see him leaning against a tree about five feet away.

“Huh?”

He nods his head up and shifts his eyes to my head. “The hat.”

Oh yeah. My hand reaches up to touch the black beanie covering my head. I did remember, actually, that he said he wanted it, but I was expecting him to forget all about that conversation. Apparently, he didn’t. My heart twinges.

“Come over here, Angel.” His voice is transformed by the dusky night; familiar but tinged with a deeper, gravelly tone that makes my legs wobbly as I stand and walk over to him.

“What are you doing over here in the trees?”

“Watching you. You say you like being around everyone on bonfire night, but you always end up sitting off by yourself.”