And so it goes. Slinging mixed drinks and having amazing sex and living a summer that's turning out to be sweeter, sweatier, and hotter (so, so, so much hotter-and I ain't talkin' about the weather) than I could ever have imagined.

One week of my new life turns into two and I'm loving the rhythm. And the money. Tips, tips, and more tips-plus, I get my first paycheck. I happy dance all the way to the bank.

I log in on Vera's computer to pay my cell phone bill before my father does it for me. I don't know if he'd planned to keep paying it for me anyway, but I hope so. I hope he logs in to find that I've taken care of it on my own. Let him chew on that.

Plus, I've convinced Vera to let me pay rent. It's still way less than anyone would ever charge, but at least I'm contributing something. I'm saving money, too. Enough to, maybe, take a semester off from working at the university book exchange at school.

The week Spinster Malady is in town to perform, I walk in and find the VIP pavilion a complete madhouse. The entire patio is packed full of people. Gage is already on the deck stage, performing. Somehow his eyes meet mine as soon as I walk in. I smile, waving. He nods, but his expression is troubled. Or, at least I think it's troubled. Maybe it's just the sad song he's covering. I'll have to ask him later.

I squeeze through people and make my way to the bar-and find someone new serving drinks in my usual spot. Or, actually, on second thought she's not new. I've seen her before. Golden brown skin, curls for miles. The waitress who dropped a tray of food the night of Demi Jade's concert.

"Hi." She smiles, flashing dimples the sizes of the Grand Canyon. Yet again, I like her immediately.

"Hey," I say. "I'm Cassidy."

"Thank God you're scheduled-we're dying here," she says. "I'm -"

"Girl, get your ass over here and help me," Clark yells across the bar, interrupting us. "In case you haven't noticed, we're slammed."

"So demanding." She rolls her eyes, winking at me before turning toward him.

"You, too, Cassidy," Clark calls. "I don't have time for idle bullshit."

"I don't have time for bossy ass coworkers," I shoot back.

Customers around the bar crack up. I swear we make more tips the sassier we behave, and I can already tell we'll have a good take tonight. Teagan would probably kill it here, snark-master of the universe that she is.

Not that I'm thinking about her.

I throw myself into serving drinks to drown out any more Teagan thoughts. It's easy to do. I can't keep track of half the orders I take. By the time things are starting to slow down, I'm sweaty and tired and-after being snapped at by one too many customers-on the verge of being cranky. As if to help me along, Jared meanders up to the bar.

But thankfully he ignores me and taps the other girl on her shoulder. "Hey-I have your check in the management office and a few things for you to sign. Come with me."

She follows him to the office, located in the white brick building between the kitchen entrance and the public restroom doors.

"Just so you know," Clark says a moment later. "That's Zoey."

"Zoey," I repeat. Her name sounds so familiar, but I can't place why. I mean, I know why I recognize her face-I saw her that first night. But she didn't tell me her name, did she?

Zoey... Zoey... And then it hits me.

Vera's face comes to mind, the first night I met her.

"Where's Zoey?" she asked Gage. He shrugged. "We broke up a month ago..."

"Sorry, hon." Clark lays a hand gently on my shoulder. "I could tell you didn't know and you had to find out at some point. I figured it was best to get it out now."

I'd respond, but the air has been sucked from my lungs. Gage's ex. Zoey is Gage's ex. The knowledge swims through my mind. She's right here. Working with me. I'm too shocked to do more than blink a few times.

Why didn't Gage tell me?

Why didn't Vera?

Although maybe Vera tried once-that time when I stuck my fingers in my ears. God, I'm an idiot. I didn't want to hear about his ex, but, uh, it's different considering she works with us. Which is really, really, really something Gage should've mentioned.

My eyes automatically seek him out on the small stage, but he's not looking back at me. He's sitting there on his stool, strumming his guitar and singing a Matthew Miles song, his tone full of California soul.

Well, screw that California souled tone. And you know what? Screw Gage. Finally, flares of anger make their way through the shock, forcing the layer of numbness to recede.

I can't believe he didn't tell me his ex works at BackBar. With him. With me.

I'm not the only girl here he's slept with-but, apparently, I am the only one who didn't know it.

Clark's watching my face, probably privy to every single thing I'm thinking.

"Guess it's no secret Gage and I are..." I trail off because I don't know how to describe what we are.

"Not really," Clark shrugs. "Jared has a big mouth."

Ugh. Jared. Always comes back to McSleazy.

All I want to do after my shift is go home, but I drove Vera tonight and I have to wait for her to get off. So I sit at table and nurse a beer. I can't make myself look at Gage performing, but his stupid, beautiful voice fills the air around me. I can't decide if my anger is rational or not. Am I jealous?

Of course I am.

Should I be jealous?

No. This is supposed to be an easy, laid-back summer.

So why am I getting so worked up?

"Can I join you?" Zoey, of all people, walks up with a beer in her hand. "Clark let me off, said he could handle the bar himself."

"Sure." Because what the hell else would I say?

She slides into a seat across from me and we sit in silence. Why does she want to join me? Is she trying to intimidate me?

Because it's working.

My palms slick with sweat and I can't stop clearing my throat. It's so freaking uncomfortable, I can't stand it. I force myself to lift my eyes from my beer to her face to say-I don't know what. Something to ease the tension, or maybe to just come clean about the big-ass elephant between us. But she's not looking at me. She's looking at Gage. Her eyes are all soft and her expression is all dreamy-and it hits me; she has no clue about us. There's no way she'd wear her heart on her face so unguardedly.

Also? She's in love with him. Whatever they had before is still very present for her.

Oh, damn.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

This is supposed to be a drama-free summer, and I'm no longer sure it's possible. There's no way my involvement with Gage will stay hidden from Zoey-and who knows how she'll react? And, even more pressingly, there's no way the irritation building hotter and hotter-at the tipping point of anger-in my veins will cool toward Gage anytime soon. In fact, I find myself glaring daggers at him.

He's just sitting there avoiding looking at our table at all costs. Or maybe he hasn't noticed that Zoey and I are sitting together yet. I glare, glare, glare. A few minutes later he still hasn't glanced in our direction. He definitely knows. I wonder if his stomach is in knots. I hope it is.

"So Zoey," I practically sneer her name-and then check myself. This isn't her fault. "You were on vacation before this?"

"Yes." It takes her a moment to drag her eyes away from Gage-thank God, it gives me time to neutralize my expression. "With my parents. We went to Barbados. Have you ever been?"

Yeah. Like everyone just up and visits Barbados.

Ugh. Cut it out, Cassidy. It's not like I haven't been plenty of other places on my parents' dime.

"No, but I'd love to visit someday." There. That wasn't so hard. I take a long swallow of my beer.

"You should." Her eyes warm with memories. "My dad mostly golfed, but my mother and I snorkeled every day. It was stunning. And the locals were so friendly, and just completely charming."

"Sounds nice." My beer is finished. The deck is emptying. There are too few people around. Maybe I should wait for Vera in my car. I look for her-and find her snuggling up to Jared by the bar. Oh, for fuck's sake.

"I'm heading home," I tell Zoey. "Nice meeting you."

She grins. "You, too! See you tomorrow?"

"Yep." I try to match her smile and fail miserably. She doesn't notice, though. Her eyes are back on Gage. I refuse to follow suit, instead walking with as much carefree confidence as I can muster over to Vera.

"Hey." She steps away from Jared, blushing a little. Don't know why. Don't care.

"Can you get a ride home from him?" I incline my head toward Jared.

"Sure-why?"

I stare at her, impassive.

"Oh." Her cheeks flush even more. "Zoey."

"Oh. Zoey." I repeat her words, deadpan.

"I tried to tell you!"

I sigh. "I know. But I want to leave and you still have an hour of your shift left."

"I can take her home." Jared's smiling, but almost kindly. It looks strange on his face. And his eyes...are kind of intense, though I can't read whatever message he's trying to send. A second later he focuses them on Vera. "In fact, Ver, you should just crash at my house tonight."

I'm not sure I want to have the place to myself tonight, but the pleasure sweeping across Vera's face is enough to have me biting my tongue, and nodding when she asks if I'll be okay.

I walk out of the pavilion without a backward glance. Gage and I had plans to follow each other back to my house, but forget that crap. Forget him altogether.

I grab another beer as soon as I'm home and bring it in with me to the shower. Drinking long swallows between washing my hair and my body. I'm not going to think about him. I'm definitely not going to think about the last time we were in here together. I'm not.

I slip into PJs and brush my hair. There is no Gage. I drop onto the couch and turn on the TV and flip aimlessly through channels. I don't care what I watch. I don't care about anything. I swear. I don't. Especially about Zoey or Gage. Nope. Not at all.

Except there's a knock at the door and I know it's Gage and my stupid, traitorous heart does little flips.

I open the door and he's standing there looking all gorgeous and furrow-browed. Not happy with me. As if he has a reason to be mad. As freaking if. I raise my own brows, keeping the rest of my face emotionless. "What?"

"Hello to you, too." He comes in, walking past me and grabbing my hand, like he just expects me to follow him.

I tug my fingers out of his grasp. "Sure. Come on in."

He ignores my sarcasm and turns, leaning against the wall to study me. "Didn't we have plans to leave together?"

"Things changed."

"You left without saying anything."

"Guess we aren't the kind of people who say things to each other."

"You're mad about Zoey." It's not a question, and he still has the nerve to look annoyed.

"Uh, you think?" I didn't mean to admit it, but the words flow from my mouth and I don't do anything to stop them. "I mean, are you kidding me? Your ex works with us and you didn't think you should mention her to me?"

Now he has the decency to drop his eyes.

But he looks up a second later, and instead of looking sorry, he looks even more pissed. "You never want to talk about anything personal, Cassidy. You've never even wanted to come to my place." He lets out a frustrated sigh. "And you definitely don't ever ask anything about me-so why would I force anything on you? Including Zoey?"

"You didn't have to tell me every little detail about your relationship with her," I say, stung by his words. It's not like we're strangers. Hell, he even knows about Jason. You only told him because you were drunk. I ignore the hiss of my conscience. "But don't you think it's kind of fucked up not to mention that you have a thing for sleeping with every girl at BackBar? It's something I might have taken into consideration before becoming one of your tally."

"My tally?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "First of all, there is no tally. Second...tell me, Cassidy. What's my last name?"

I know this.

Don't I know this?

How can I not know this?

"Logan." He wants to say more, I can tell by his intake of breath, but he stops himself instead and closes his mouth.

"I knew that." Okay, I totally hadn't known that. But still, "What were you about to say?" I push him, my irritation growing disproportionately to the way I can see him trying to calm himself. "Don't back down now."

"You don't even know my last name."

"Oh, what, and that makes me some slut because I jumped into bed with you?"

"No! God, Cassidy." He shakes his head. "But how am I supposed to know what's important to you?"

Guilt flickers through everything else I'm feeling, but I'm riding this rush of anger too fast to let it faze me. "Try some common sense, maybe. God. Do you have any idea how embarrassed I am? I have to work with her."

"You're right." He sighs again, the tension draining from his stance. "I should've told you. I was going to, but I didn't know when she was coming back and until then I didn't want to rock what you and I had going on."

"You didn't want to rock it? Like what? We're on a boat? Well now I'm fucking overboard. So congratulations on that." I'm not finished being mad even if he is.

"What does that mean, you're overboard?"