I've become friends with her because she's having me design the logo for her new business. She and her friend are developing a line of signature cocktails that she hopes to sell to bars and someday get into stores. I've met with her several times the past week about the logo, but she hasn't even mentioned Trent. I assumed they broke up so I didn't ask.
"Don't be giving me shit about her," Trent says, grabbing the ball from me.
"Who? Your girlfriend?" I kid. Trent hates the 'girlfriend' label. It sounds too serious.
"You better not let her hear you call her that. She'll freaking punch you."
I laugh. "She doesn't want to be Trent Kincaid's girlfriend? I thought that was every girl's dream."
He throws the ball at me. "Shut up, asshole."
"So you're saying she's just like you? Only in it for the sex?"
"Yeah." He lifts his baseball cap and turns it the other way, the flap in the back.
"That's what you wanted, right? Just sex? No strings?"
He shrugs. "I guess."
It's clearly bothering him that she won't be his girlfriend, which is completely shocking. The whole time I've known him, he's never wanted a girlfriend.
"So are you going to keep dating her?" I ask.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"You've already gone past your two week limit. Isn't it time to break up with her?"
"It's a lot of work finding someone new." He glances off to the side. "I think I'll just keep this going."
He's such a liar. He'd have no problem finding someone new. He just likes Leah too much to give her up.
"By the way," I say. "Your girlfriend left her sweater in my truck."
"So that's where it went. She kept asking me if I'd seen it."
He didn't even correct me on the girlfriend label, which means he already thinks of her that way. That's a huge deal. Before he met her, I couldn't even get him to consider the idea of having a girlfriend.
"Come get it." I motion him to the parking lot. "I've gotta get going."
"You got plans tonight?"
"I'm designing a new logo for my mom's business."
"You're really getting into this design stuff," he says as we walk to my truck. "It's good you found something you like."
"Yeah. I think I finally figured out what I want to do." I open the door and grab the sweater and toss it to him.
"So what about Willow? You two still aren't talking?"
"We talk when we need to. Other than that, no."
"I can't believe you've been able to stay away from her."
"If I want her back I need to give her space. And if she decides she doesn't want me in her life, then I'm starting to accept that. I love her, but I'm done playing these games. Either she wants me or she doesn't. And if she doesn't, it's time to move on."
"Good for you, man. I like Willow, but the girl needs to get her shit together." He walks over to his car. "Call me tomorrow. Maybe we'll go golfing...if Leah doesn't wear me out too much." He smiles.
"Yeah, see ya."
I'm jealous. I wish I had a girl to hang out with tonight. And not just any girl. I want Willow. I miss her like crazy and I want her back. What I told Trent isn't entirely true. I'm not ready to give up on Willow. I need to convince her we belong together, and if giving her space doesn't work, then I'll have to find another way, although I'd rather have her come to that conclusion herself.
But like I told Trent, I'm starting to accept the fact that despite my best efforts, Willow and I may not end up together. I love her and want a future with her, but I can't force her to feel the same way. And I can't keep playing this game of back and forth. By the end of the summer she needs to make a decision, and if she decides not to be with me, then I have to move on, even if it kills me to do so.
The following week, Willow shows up at the farm. She's working in the fields again, but only in the mornings, and then she goes home in the afternoons to make more soaps and lotions. When she's at the farm I leave her alone, but I keep catching her watching me. I've been watching her too, but she hasn't caught me yet.
It's now Friday, and almost three weeks since our break-up. Tonight will be yet another Friday night when I should be out with Willow, but instead will be home, working on logos. Trent invited me to go out with him and Leah to an outdoor concert but I didn't want to be a third wheel, or worse yet, have him ambush me with a blind date. I think he knows better than to do that after the incident earlier this summer, but with Trent, you never know.
"Silas!" Willow yells.
I'm way back in the lettuce fields and see her walking toward me. "What do you need?"
"It's lunch time," she yells back.
"Yeah, I'm not hungry."
"You have to eat. You've been out here since six this morning."
How did she know that? Her dad must've told her. Since the break-up, I haven't slept well so I've been getting to work early every day.
"Come on. I have everything set up." Willow's in front of me now, dressed in one of her sexy farm girl outfits; denim cut-off shorts with a tiny white t-shirt and her red cowboy boots, her long dark hair tied back in a loose braid. I'd like to grab that braid, tug it back, and plant my mouth on hers.
"Silas?"
"Yeah." I wake up from my fantasy and toss my cutting shears in the bucket. "I didn't bring a lunch today. I forgot, so I'm just gonna skip it."
"You're not skipping lunch. Come on." She takes my hand, then freezes, like she didn't mean to do that.
I grip her hand, letting her know it's okay, and smile at her. "Are you saying you brought me lunch?"
She smiles back. "I didn't just bring it. I made it."
"What did you make?"
"Fried chicken." She swings our arms a little as we walk through the fields.
"You made fried chicken? Isn't that hard to make?"
"Yeah, and it's messy. Grease splattered all over the walls."
"Then why did you make it?"
"I've been watching these cooking shows on TV and I saw them making fried chicken one day and thought I'd try it." She pauses. "And, well, you really like fried chicken."
Is she saying she made it just for me? She's never cooked for me. I've cooked for her many times, but she's never made anything for me, other than cold sandwiches.
"It's been in the cooler," she says, "so it's not hot, but the lady on TV said cold fried chicken is how you eat it in the summer. I also have potato salad but I bought it at the store. And I cut up a cantaloupe that my dad picked this morning. I was going to make brownies but I didn't have time."
I tug on her hand, stopping her. "Why'd you do all this?"
She shrugs, her eyes gazing down. "I just haven't seen you much lately and I thought maybe if I brought you lunch, you'd spend some time with me."
"Willow." I tip her face up to mine. "I'll spend time with you whenever you want. But you told me to leave you alone, so that's what I'm doing."
"I didn't say to leave me alone. Or if I did, I didn't mean that. I just—"
"You said you didn't want to be friends. You said it was too hard to be around each other." I look her in the eye. "Have you changed your mind about that?"
She holds my gaze for a moment, then glances away. "We should eat before the bugs get all over the food." She starts walking off.
God, this girl frustrates the hell out of me. Why won't she just say what she's thinking? I can tell she wants to, but she won't. Just now, some thought entered her head and the happy mood she greeted me with turned sad and almost regretful. But why?
I follow her to one of the picnic tables. The other workers are already eating lunch, two tables down. They glance at us, then return their attention to their phones. I spot Willow's dad standing by the trailer, watching her and shaking his head. I think he's just as confused by his daughter's actions as I am.
"You even set the table," I say, noticing the red checkered tablecloth, plates, and silverware.
"Since I went to all that work to make the chick
en, I thought it should be served in a nice way."
"I like it." I smile at her. "Thanks." I lean down and give her a peck on the cheek.
She looks surprised by the kiss but smiles back. "You're welcome."
As we have our fried chicken, she tells me what she's been up to the past few weeks. Her dad is right. It's like she has this new energy about her. I've never seen her like this. When she talks about all the products she's been creating, her whole face lights up. It's good to see her this happy. Even if we don't get back together, this is what I want for her. To be this happy about whatever it is she ends up doing.
When we're finished eating, she starts putting our dishes back in the picnic basket.
"Need some help?" I ask.
"No, I got it."
"Thanks again for lunch. It was really good." I stand up. "I better get back to work."
"Silas?"
"Yeah?"
She hesitates. "Are you, um, going out tonight?"
"No. I'm working on a logo for my mom."
"Really?" Her brows rise. "I thought maybe you'd go out. I mean, it's Friday." She smiles nervously. "That's date night, right?"
I smile. "I guess, but I don't have a date."
"What about your—" She stops and shakes her head. "Never mind. It's none of my business."
"My what? What were you going to say?"
"I just..." She sweeps the crumbs off the tablecloth in short, quick strokes. "I thought you'd be out with that girl."
"What girl?"
"The one you're going out with." She sets the picnic basket on the ground and whips the checkered cloth off the table.
"Willow." I hold her wrist so she'll stop moving. "I'm not going out with anyone."
She looks up at me. "Silas, you can tell me. It's okay. I assumed you'd start dating again."
I release her wrist. "I'm not dating anyone. Why did you think I was? Did someone tell you that?"
She folds up the tablecloth. "I saw her sweater in your truck. I didn't mean to, but it was right there."
Her attempt to hide her jealousy is a complete fail. I can hear it in her tone. And on her face I see the hurt she's feeling over thinking about me with someone else.
I take the tablecloth from her and set it down. "Just stop for a minute and listen to me. That was Leah's sweater. Leah, as in the bartender who makes your favorite margaritas. She's dating Trent, and one day I had to give her a ride and she left her sweater in my truck. I'm not dating her. I'm not dating anyone."
"Oh." Willow's shoulders relax and she gives me a hesitant smile. "Okay. Well, do you maybe want to have dinner with me tonight before you get to work on your logo?"
I cross my arms over my chest, a grin on my face. "Are you asking me out?"
She bites her lip, avoiding my gaze. "Maybe. I don't really know."
"Well, I need you to know. So when you figure that out, ask me again." I turn and walk back to the fields.
"Wait." Willow catches up to me, but I keep walking. "Could we maybe try being friends again?"
I stop and face her. "Just friends? Or more than that?"
"Just friends. For now."
I almost tell her no because I'm afraid this will just lead us back to where we were a few weeks ago. Friends with benefits and nothing more.
"If we do this, we're just going to be friends. It's strictly platonic. Unless you've decided something about us. But I get the feeling you haven't."
She nods. "Okay. Strictly platonic."
Dammit. That was her chance to tell me she wants us to get back together, but instead she chose the friend option. So frustrating.
"I'll be home around six," I say. "So just call anytime after that and we'll figure out dinner."
"Actually, I'm staying here this afternoon. I'm going to plant flowers where the broccoli used to be. Do you want to help me?"
"I need to finish the lettuce first, but after that, yeah, I can help."
"Then I'll see you over there." She leaves with a big smile on her face.
I swear, I can't figure her out. She wants to spend time with me but she doesn't want to date me. She says she loves me but won't commit to being in a relationship with me.
I've been trying to stay positive, but I'm starting to think this summer isn't going to end well.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Willow
I'm convinced I'm going through Silas withdrawal. I was completely addicted to that boy, and still am. Ever since we broke up, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him. Wanting him. Craving him. It's bad. So bad. I have dreams about him. Naughty dreams. And if that's not bad enough, I keep embarrassing myself, trying to find ways to be around him.
I'm like a pathetic lovesick teenager. Technically, at 19, I still am a teenager but I like to think I'm no longer pathetic or lovesick when it comes to guys. But it turns out that's exactly what I am when it comes to Silas.
It's a good thing I've had work to keep me busy so I'm not constantly thinking about him. I'm starting to really like working in the family business. Actually, I love it. I'm surprised I'm even admitting that because for years I told myself I had no interest in the farm. I'd help out every summer but I had no interest in doing anything beyond that. My dream was to run a large corporation. I even imagined what my office would look like, with a big desk and floor-to-ceiling windows that look out at a city skyline.
But just last week, as I was sitting in my parents' office, I imagined myself running a small business. I even imagined running the farm someday, transforming it into something bigger but still keeping that homegrown family feel. I'd expand the prepared food line with jams and jellies and salsa, and maybe even get them into retail stores. And I'd do the same with the soaps and lotions and other skincare products.
Last night I wrote all my ideas down and had so many I didn't finish until two in the morning. Now I'm actually considering doing this. I might do like Silas said and take next semester off and go to UC-Berkeley in the spring. I'll miss being at Camsburg, but I'm not as sad as I was about not going back because I have other options. Options I might even like better than my old ones.
"Thanks for dinner," Silas says as we're driving home. I took him to the barbecue place he likes.
"You should thank my dad. It was his money."
"You still invited me. You could've gone with someone else."
"Well, apparently I have no friends other than you," I say kiddingly.
"Willow, I didn't mean it that way. I know you have friends."
"I did, but they've all moved on. Or some moved away. I called Kami last week and she's working at a summer camp in Portland. And Anna got an internship in San Diego."
He nudges my arm. "So that's why you wanted to be friends again? You had no other options?"
"No. It's because..." I pause. "Because I missed you. I really missed you, Silas."
He smiles at me. "I missed you too." He pulls the truck into my driveway. "Have a good night."
"Oh. Okay." I hear the disappointment in my voice.
"Is something wrong?"
"I guess I didn't know we were done." I undo my seatbelt and put my hand on the door handle. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah. Bye."
I start to get out but then stop, turning back to Silas. "Would you care if I came over for a little while? I know you have to work, but it's Friday night and I'm not quite ready to go home."
A slight smile appears. "Sure. You can come over."
I close the door, relieved that he agreed to it. Dinner only took an hour and I want more time with him. I freeze when I feel his arm reach over me for the seatbelt.
"Gotta buckle up." His hand brushes against my chest as he pulls the belt over me and clicks it in place. I'm burning up inside from just his brief touch, which is completely ridiculous. Just a few weeks ago, I was having sex with him several times a day, and now just the feel of his hand on me sends sparks flying? This guy has way too much power over me, and yet I like it.
"So w
hat do you want to do?" he asks on the short drive to his house.
"Maybe just hang out in your room," I say casually so he doesn't read anything into it. He's being very strict about this platonic rule and although I know why he's doing it, I find it frustrating because it makes me want him even more.
Once we're in his room, he sits on his bed, tempting me once again. But I fight the temptation and go sit at his desk.
"Can I see what you've been working on?" I ask, turning to face his computer.
"Yeah, I can show you." He comes up behind me, leaning over me to wake up his laptop. His scent surrounds me. The scent that belongs only to him, and that I love and find comfort in. "So this is what I've been working on for my mom." He clicks open several files, each with a different logo. "These are just some rough drafts. I have a lot more work to do."
I look over his designs. "Silas, these are so good."
"You really think so?"
"Are you kidding?" I turn back to face him. "They look like they were done by a professional design firm."
"Thanks." He smiles and our eyes lock. He's still leaned over me, our faces so close they're almost touching. Before I can stop myself, I kiss him. Almost. He backs away before our lips meet.
I feel my face heating up as I quickly turn back toward the computer. "Sorry. It's just a habit. I'm so used to..." I don't bother finishing the thought. He knows I wanted to kiss him.
"Don't be embarrassed," he says low and soft by my ear. My pulse races at the feel of his breath. "You know I want you, Willow. I want you so fucking bad."
I freeze, my breathing fast and shallow from my racing heart.
His lips brush over my ear as he says, "But I won't let myself have you until I know that you're mine. For good this time. Understood?"
I swallow, then nod.
He raises up and points to the laptop. "So those are the designs I'm working on for Leah."
He just goes back to normal, while I'm left with my heart beating out of my chest, heat burning up my core, my head filled with images of Silas ripping my clothes off and taking me right here on his desk.
Still Love You Page 26
