Jesse's Girl

He comes up for a breath, slinging water all over me.

“Polo!”

And under the bright, twinkling stars, I wrap my arms around his neck and we kiss, perfectly in tune

I’m glad to see everyone disregarded the skinny-dipping instructions on your invitation.”

“And why did you send said invitation to the president of Rêve?” Mr. Logan asks. At least he’s smiling.

“It said skinny-dipping was optional, not required,” Jesse replies.

Jesse and Dave play a game of basketball in the shallow end while Xander and I sit on the steps and make fun of them for being so bad at sports.

I stand on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’ll give you the rest of your present later.”

His eyebrows shoot straight up to the sky.

“Wanna go swimming?” I ask.

“Sure.” He starts to drop his towel.

“You’ve got something on under there, right?”

“You know me. Go big or go home.” He yanks off the towel. He’s wearing red swimming trunks.

“You ass.”

It’s nothing compared to the gift he gave me for my birthday in January: he rented a silver Lamborghini for a night, and I drove it all over Nashville and Franklin.

“I am in charge of decorations for all future parties,” I say. “This is heinous.”

“Not heinous, hilarious. Just wait until you see what’s inside the piñata

He’s up to a whopping five framed pictures now: a print of him, Mark, and Holly backstage at the Grammys; a picture of Dr. Salter and Jesse at a concert; the picture of him and me on top of the Empire State Building; a photo of him challenging Dave to a game of pickup basketball (I took that picture); and my favorite—a photo that a fan sent of me and him singing together on the Belle Carol.

My mom. She and my dad can’t make it tonight. They have to get up early tomorrow.”

“How boring.”

“Damn straight,”

Jordan said I could be in charge of the cake. It will have three layers: one raspberry, one coffee, and one vanilla. And it will have the Detroit Lions logo on it.”

Jordan hurls a french fry at his head.

“Do you think Jesse would sing at our wedding?” Jordan asks. “He’s so sexy.”

Sam throws a peanut at her. “Can we stop talking about how sexy Jesse is already?”

“Seconded,” Dad replies.

Sam keeps going on and on and on about wedding plans. Mom loves hearing about them, but he discusses the wedding so often the rest of us want to put on earmuffs. Even Jordan wants him to shut up, and she’s the one with a glittering diamond on her left hand