Mancandy Crush

by Tawna Fenske

  I love you.

  That’s insane. We’ve known each other two weeks. I know better than anyone how a lust-addled brain can play tricks. Make a total fucking fool out of you when you get carried away.

  But my brain feels clearer than it ever has, and the woman in my arms feels so right my body hums with it. The slow buzz in the back of my brain that’s usually chanting “you’re an idiot” is whispering something else now, something I’ve never heard before.

  This one.

  And I know it deep in my chest, even though I don’t dare say it. Not yet.

  But as Val drifts off to sleep, I’m more sure of it than I’ve been of anything in my life.

  * * *

  ***

  * * *

  The sun shimmers low and pinky-orange outside the window when I wake the next morning. Damp grass flutters with golden sparks of sunlight, and blue sky has wiped away all evidence of last night’s thunderstorm.

  I turn to see Val’s hair fanned out on the pillow, her mouth curved up in the tiniest smile. She doesn’t stir when I lean down to kiss her cheek, so I untangle myself from the covers and find my stuff in the twisted ball of clothes on the floor.

  The straps of her bra catch on the leg of my jeans, wispy lace tickling my fingers. How is this turning me on? And how is it possible I want her again this much just hours after having her the first time?

  Before I can figure that out, I need coffee. Tugging my T-shirt over my head, I trudge down the hall toward the kitchen.

  “Hey.”

  I jump ten feet at Vanessa’s voice, at the sight of her sitting with a mug cupped in her hands at the dining room table. She’s wrapped in a plush pink bathrobe with her hair in a messy knot and her face streaked with tears.

  Oh, shit. “Are you okay?”

  She clearly isn’t, but she’s kind enough to ignore my dumb question as I move closer and scan the room for Raleigh. “What happened? Did you guys fight?”

  She gives a bitter laugh and wipes her eyes on the sleeve of her robe. “He’s gone. Left. Flew home an hour ago.”

  “What?” She’s kidding, right? I bite back the string of curse words that flood my brain. What a piece of—

  “We got into it last night.” She sniffles again, and I grab a box of Kleenex from the counter and hand it to her. The chair beside her is kicked out, so I sink into it and peel off one of the tissues for her.

  “Thanks.” She swipes at her eyes and blows her nose. “There’s coffee over there.”

  “I’m okay.” I should wake up Val, but I don’t want to leave Vanessa alone like this. “So, you argued.”

  Another sob shakes her, and she swipes at her eyes again. “It was way beyond an argument.” The sob becomes a humorless laugh. “I was pissed about him coming home drunk, but I kept it together and tucked him into bed. There’s no point starting a discussion when he’s like that, right?”

  “Right.” Given what he looked like the last time I saw him, I’m surprised he stayed conscious long enough to get his pants off, never mind holding a conversation.

  “He wanted to talk,” she continues, peeling off another tissue. “Said he’d been trying to work up the nerve to tell me something, and maybe this was the only way.”

  What a chickenshit. “Uh-huh,” I manage.

  “I know,” she says. “I know. I told him it could wait ‘til morning, or after the wedding, but he said it couldn’t. He said he’d been trying to break up with me for weeks. Way before we came here. But he wanted to see Oregon, and he thought maybe having my family around would make it easier on me, so—”

  She dissolves into a fresh round of tears, shredding the tissue in one hand as her elbow bumps the coffee mug. I push it away and rest a hand on her back, letting her cry it out. I wish I could summon Val. She’d know what to do.

  The tears finally peter out, and Vanessa pulls herself together. “I feel so stupid.” A hunk of hair escapes her topknot, but she ignores it. “What an idiot, right?”

  “Hey. You’re not an idiot.”

  But I know the feeling. I remember the sting of discovering someone I cared about wasn’t on the same page. The thought doesn’t fill me with bitterness anymore. Just empathy for the woman sitting beside me now.

  “You can do way better than him,” I assure her. “I promise.”

  “I know.” She gives a watery little laugh. “I did do better, didn’t I?”

  “How do you mean?”

  She shrugs and fiddles with the pile of shredded tissue in front of her. “With you. You’re a good guy, Josh. And I threw that away.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. She must see panic in my eyes, because she puts her hand on mine like she’s trying to keep me from running.

  “I’m not hitting on you,” she says. “That’s not how I meant it. You and Val belong together. I’m happy you found each other. I just—I don’t know. You’re proof good guys are out there. That I’m the dummy who doesn’t know what to do with one.”

  Christ, is she really blaming herself for Raleigh turning out to be an asshole? “You can’t make this your fault.”

  “But it is.” She shakes her head and lets out a long, slow breath. “It’s been like that every time I’ve dated someone who’s an actual nice guy. I just keep screwing it up and chasing after these—these losers.”

  Aw, hell. I hate seeing a woman in pain like this.

  “Ness, no.” I pat her back, struggling to find the right thing to tell her. “Remember what you said that night we hiked Pilot Butte to watch the stars? We talked about my dad. You told me how it wasn’t my fault he walked out. This is the same thing. It’s on Raleigh, not you.”

  She shakes her head, not believing me. “I can’t stop thinking I missed the boat somewhere.”

  Another sob shakes her, and I rest a hand on her back to steady her. She’s gripping my hand harder now, and I think she’s forgotten she’s holding it. “Hey,” I murmur. “It’s not too late. It really isn’t.”

  Her sobs ebb to quiet crying, and I let her go with it. She stares down into her coffee mug and doesn’t say anything for a long, long time.

  When she finally looks up, her brown eyes are red-rimmed and tender. “Were you serious back then?” she asks. “When you asked me to marry you?”

  I hesitate, not sure why she’s asking. Not sure if this is some sort of trap. But if I’ve learned anything from Val, it’s the value of being honest.

  “Yeah,” I tell her. “I was. But—”

  “I meant it, too. Back then? I really did think we’d get married. Travel the world together, make babies, all that stuff. I was young and dumb, I know. And I thought—I thought I actually had it right this time. That I might really get those things.”

  It takes me a second to realize she’s talking about Raleigh. That just like me, she’s got the hindsight to recognize our sweet teenage fling was a training ground to learn what we really want.

  My mind flashes to Val sleeping in the back bedroom, and a warm glow spreads through me. My thoughts drift back to last night and how right it felt to be with her. How much I want it again.

  “It’s not too late,” I repeat to Vanessa. “You’re young and beautiful and amazing and brave and—”

  A cough behind us jerks me out of that train of thought.

  We whip our heads around to see Val staring at us from the edge of the hall. She’s got a garment bag in one hand and a blank look on her face.

  I watch as her eyes land on Vanessa’s hand cupping mine, my hand on her sister’s back, the closeness of our chairs.

  Then Val closes her eyes like her worst fears have come true.

  Chapter 9

  VALERIE

  Josh drops his hand from my sister’s back, but his words hang like scorched tinsel on a tree branch.

  It’s not too late.

  I heard the rest of what he said to her, too. The part where he called her amazing and brave. Vanessa is both of those things and I’m neither.

  I�
�ve never been more aware of that than I am now.

  Josh starts to stand. “Val, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

  I grab my sewing case off the end table, desperate for something to keep my hands busy. There’s a reason I came out here, and it’s got nothing to do with this scene at the kitchen table. “There’s a wedding emergency.”

  “What?” Vanessa blinks, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy.

  That gives me pause. Sympathy tugs a corner of my heart, but that’s not enough to distract me from how the rest of the organ aches like it’s been kicked. That dull ache, those biting needles of pain in my chest—they’re a million-and-one reminders why I tried not to get attached. Not to let this thing with Josh be more than a fling.

  I failed. I failed so miserably, it’s pathetic.

  I clear my throat, determined to hold it together while everything inside me comes unraveled. “The bottom of Bree’s dress got shredded,” I inform them, determined my voice won’t wobble. That I can handle this like a stoic grownup. “She had the window open for the thunderstorm last night, and raccoons broke in and got to the dress.”

  Apparently, seed pearls and tiny crystals are big draws for trash pandas. I glance at Josh, then look away fast. I’m no better than a raccoon, distracted by bright, shiny attraction. Why didn’t I remember that’s all this could be? A sparkly fantasy, not meant to last more than a couple weeks.

  The ache of accepting that nearly buckles my knees. I grip my sewing case harder and force myself to breathe through the betrayal.

  “Oh my God,” Vanessa says. “Can you fix the dress?”

  Irritation flickers through me, then doubles because I hate being mad at my sister. I hate feeling this swell of dark emotion that’s screaming to get out of me.

  I push it back, not willing to go there. Not willing to let them see how much this hurts. “I won’t know until I get to Bree’s,” I tell her. “The wedding’s in eight hours, so hopefully we can repair the damage before it’s too late.”

  My words sound ominous for someone talking about a damn dress, which is a good indication I’m not talking about the dress. Josh is standing beside the table looking like he wants to say something but has no idea where to start.

  I need to get out of here. I need to go back to remembering this is just a fling. That’s all it ever was; that’s the only way I can keep this from hurting.

  Too late. Too late. Too late.

  My heart throbs in the rhythm of those words, sore and achy in my chest. This is exactly what I feared most from the start of this whole mess. What did I think was going to happen?

  I start for the front door. “Bree needs me,” I tell them. “I have to get over there.”

  “Val, wait.” Josh moves toward me, a stricken look on his face. He glances back at Vanessa, and their silent exchange reminds me how silly I’ve been. I let everyone convince me this thing between Josh and me was special. Unique. Like nothing either of us had felt before.

  Why did I let myself believe that?

  Slumping in her robe, Vanessa puts her head in her hands. “Raleigh left.”

  That stops me in my tracks. “Left?” I hesitate halfway to the door. “Like he went out for donuts or something?”

  Vanessa says nothing right away, but I notice the pile of tissues in front of her. Holy shit. Maybe I’ve read this wrong. Maybe—

  “Raleigh broke up with me.” Vanessa looks up, twisting a tissue that sends dust flecks spiraling in a sunbeam. “We’re not getting engaged.”

  The words land hard and fierce, four quick sucker punches to the spleen. I’m torn between sympathy for my sister and the stabbing ache of knowing what else I heard.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” My heart slams harder now as I grip the handle of my sewing machine so hard it creaks. I glance at Josh, who’s frozen midway between my sister and me. “He asked you to marry him.”

  Ness blinks in confusion. “Raleigh? I just said—”

  “Not Raleigh. Josh.”

  Color drains from Josh’s face. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “You never mentioned that.” I glance between them, twins in their deceit. “Neither one of you. As much as we’ve talked about things, it seems odd you wouldn’t have said a word about getting engaged.”

  They glance at each other, and my heart twists again. Even now, their silent conversation doesn’t include me.

  I remember Josh’s words to her just a few seconds ago. “Remember what you said that night?” His voice was rich with shared memory, a voice I’d never heard before. “You told me how it wasn’t my fault my dad walked out.”

  I never even knew he had a father who left. Not that he owed me every detail of his childhood, but still. I thought we were opening up to each other. Sharing the secret parts of ourselves we’d kept safely hidden before.

  What an idiot I was.

  A bone-deep ache ripples through me, the taste of self-doubt bitter on the back of my tongue. The first time in years that I trusted someone, and this is how it goes.

  I start toward the door again. “I don’t have time for this right now,” I tell them. “I really have to—”

  “We weren’t engaged.” Vanessa throws out a hand to stop me.

  I stop moving, resisting the urge to shrug her hand away.

  “Not formally, anyway,” Vanessa adds softly.

  For some reason, that stings more. It’s confirmation of what I feared most. That this thing between Josh and me could never compare to what he felt for my sister. Or still feels, I have no idea. I don’t know what to believe anymore.

  “It wasn’t like that.” Josh finds his voice at last and steps closer, moving like someone approaching a rabid bat. “Not like you’re thinking.”

  “What am I thinking?” I turn back to face them, wishing I could hate them both. Wishing I felt rage instead of this deep, achy certainty that I took a risk and failed. That I gambled with my heart and watched the whole damn card deck catch fire.

  Josh rakes his fingers through his hair, looking desperate. “It wasn’t some big thing where I got down on one knee with a ring,” he says. “Just a conversation. Several conversations, I mean—we talked about it, yeah. But you talk about a lot of stupid shit when you’re high on hormones and summer lust.”

  I square my shoulders. “So that’s all this was.”

  Josh frowns. “What?”

  Nothing he’s saying is making anything better, and I need to get out of here. The longer I stand here letting him unravel my pride, the worse this will get. I need to get to Bree’s. I need to escape with what’s left of my dignity.

  “Look, I don’t care what happened,” I tell them. “The fact that both of you conveniently failed to mention a previous plan to spend the rest of your lives together seems pretty fucking suspicious.” I glare at Josh. “I’m not stupid, okay?”

  He flinches, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. Good. Why should I be the only one feeling like crap right now?

  But no, that’s a lousy way to be. I can’t do this, not on the day of Bree’s wedding.

  “We can talk later,” I offer weakly. “I really have to go. I promised I’d be there ten minutes ago.”

  Vanessa tries to follow. “But Val—”

  “Please.” The word sounds more desperate than I wish it did. I wanted a fierce bark, not an anguished plea. “Let’s not do this now. It’s Bree’s wedding day, and the last thing she needs is drama from her cousins.”

  Josh moves closer. “At least let me drive you—”

  “No.” I grab the door handle, needing some air. Needing some space.

  I’m seven years old again, alone in the forest. Forgotten.

  I’m thirteen and so sure what my agent says is true. That I’m talented and beautiful and special.

  But I’m twenty-four now, and I busted ass to get my self-esteem on track. I’m not getting derailed now. “I have to get to Bree’s.”

  Vanessa bites her lip. “Are we still getting ready together?”

/>   “Sure.” Act normal, that’s key. Just pretend none of this happened.

  Josh looks like he wants to chase after me, like he’s sure he could fix this if we just had ten minutes alone.

  But we don’t have that kind of time. And I don’t have the strength to hear what he’s got to say. Now that I know what it’s like to take this risk and fail, I need to run far, far away from this feeling.

  “We’ll talk later,” I call over my shoulder.

  I’m lying, one of the few times in my life I’ve done it.

  But at least I’m in good company.

  * * *

  ***

  * * *

  Bree and Austin link hands and raise them overhead, beaming as their wedding bands sparkle against the snowfield behind them.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife,” the minister says. “You may kiss the bride.”

  Austin’s already there, pulling his wife into his arms and laying the kind of kiss on her that makes my toes curl in the custom snow boots they gave us at the bottom of the chairlift.

  The crowd goes nuts, waving their jingle bells even though we’re not supposed to do it yet. I give mine a shake and breathe in the clear mountain air, the smell of pine trees swooping down the slopes. From Mt. Bachelor’s summit, we can see clear to California. Acres of tree-dotted forest sprawl below, with lakes splashed around like candy-colored puddles. I’ve never been nine-thousand feet above sea level like this, and I’m almost sad Bree’s wedding is over.

  Almost.

  Part of me can’t get out of here fast enough.

  Vanessa shakes her bell beside me as Bree and Austin start down the aisle with the bright blue sky behind them. The hem of Bree’s gown swishes to reveal dressy white snow boots crunching through the glittery crust. A pair of reindeer glance up with expressions of practiced boredom as the happy couple passes.

  “How do you think they got reindeer up here?” Vanessa murmurs beside me.

  “Chairlift?” I guess.

  “I’d pay good money to see that.”