Page 48 of Plotting Summer

Tristan keeps drying himself as if he doesn’t understand how thrilling this information is. “No one seems to know where she is, but she’s here—at the Belacourt.” And I just saw her!

“It makes sense. Noah says they have celebrities come here when they want to lay low.”

Despite his lack of enthusiasm, I’m near to bursting with excitement. “I can’t believe she was in the shower next to ours.”

Tristan laughs. “When you say it like that, it does sound like a core memory—Presley James in the shower next to ours. I also can’t wait to hear you explain that one to your family.” There’s that teasing again, and instantly, my celebrity sighting is all but forgotten. But before I can think how to respond, Tristan glances at the clock on the wall. “We’ve got about an hour until our dinner reservation. Hopefully that gives you enough time to get ready.”

“It should,” I say, trying for a casual, unfazed smile similar to his.

On the way out of the spa, we retrieve the robes we brought from our room and start back toward the villa with sopping hair and more than a few left-over spots of mud still clinging to us. Considering I was hesitant walking into the Belacourt in my romper and flip flops, I’m now strangely okay traipsing around looking like a wet puppy that found a mud puddle on her walk.

“Tristan!” A man in business attire waves a hand. An extremely handsome man and another very familiar face.

“Noah.” Tristan smiles, lifting a hand and taking a step toward his friend. “I was hoping we’d run into you.”

“How was the spa?” Noah’s brown eyes skirt to me, and I’m suddenly no longer comfortable being a mud puppy. Not because I’ve ever harbored feelings for the man—I’ve been thoroughly stuck on Tristan way too long for that—but this is Noah Belacourt! And he’s looking at me expectantly. What did he ask again?

“It was amazing,” Tristan says when I obviously can’t find the words. The spa. That’s what he’d asked about. “Do you remember Capri Collins?”

Noah’s dark features settle on me. “I do. How are you, Capri?”

I’m nodding. Why am I nodding? Probably because I’m stunned he said he remembers me. I doubt it’s true, but it’s nice of him to say so. Noah Belacourt is a nice guy in real life. I always knew it. “Good,” I say, finally finding my voice. “And you? Are you good?”

His lips tick at the sides, and I’m guessing this isn’t his first encounter with a secret-reality-TV-watching star-struck fan. “I’m doing okay. Thanks for asking.”

I take a step closer to Tristan, hopeful it might help ground me, or boost my confidence, or maybe just draw Noah’s attention back to him. Like he realizes what I’m in need of, Tristan puts his hand on the small of my back.

Noah doesn’t seem to miss the gesture, and he smiles. “So, how’s the competition going?”

Tristan looks at me. “It’s still close.”

I shake my head. “It’s not. I don’t even have a shot after today. And I believe I have you to blame for that.”

Noah chuckles. I just made Noah Belacourt chuckle!

“For real, thanks for hooking us up, man,” Tristan says. “It’s been amazing. And that villa …”

Noah waves a dismissive hand, stopping Tristan’s gratitude. “It was vacant, so I’m happy it can get some use. Also, dinner is on me tonight. I already put instructions in with the restaurant staff. You can eat there or order in room service, whichever you prefer.”

Tristan’s gaze meets mine, and I must look like a deer in headlights at the mention of ordering in room service. Not that it would imply anything other than we’d be eating together in a villa by ourselves instead of eating dinner with a room full of people. Okay, that’s sufficient reason for my unblinking, doe eyes.

“We have reservations at six,” Tristan says, setting his attention back on Noah.

“They’re super lax on reservations here. It’s part of the tropical resort vibe—come as you are whenever you want to show up.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Well, I won’t keep you two. I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to the villa and get changed. But if there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to ask. Otherwise, I’ll see you soon,” he says, pointing at Tristan. “And hopefully I’ll also see you again, Capri.”

Noah Belacourt hopes to see me again! “That’d be great,” I say, the picture of calm and collected. “Thanks again for everything.”

We wave goodbye, then continue along the path back to our villa. I veer off to the side as I walk, making sure there’s ample room between me and Tristan. With the sensation of his hand still lingering on my lower back even through the thickness of my robe, it’s probably best.

Tristan’s watching me with an odd look.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”