by Maisey Yates
She raced out the front door and to the truck, getting inside and jamming her key into the ignition. Then she dialed Grassroots.
She put the call on speakerphone as she maneuvered the car out of the driveway, her head and body still buzzing, an air of the surreal wrapping itself around her.
“Grassroots Winery, this is Sabrina.”
“Hi,” Clara said. “This is Clara. I’m on my way.”
“Clara!” Sabrina hissed. “I thought that hipster guy killed you and made a beanie out of you. I haven’t heard from you since you went on that date, and then you didn’t show up to work.”
Clara’s stomach sank. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. Nothing happened on the date. Really. And time just...got away from me today.” It was a lie, and eventually she would tell Sabrina the truth. But she needed some time to process it herself.
“Well, get here as soon as you can. Lindy hasn’t been down to the tasting room yet, so she doesn’t know you’re not here. And Olivia is on a later shift. Not that I think she would get you in any trouble on purpose, but you know how she is.”
A rule follower to a fault. Yes, Clara was well aware of that. “Thank you. I’ll probably be about a half hour.”
“Okay. See you then.”
She could be there quicker if she didn’t make the stop she was going to make next. But she didn’t see much of a way around it. Well, she didn’t have to go see Asher now. But she didn’t feel right about letting it sit, considering what had just happened.
She drove down the highway in a haze, then turned sharply into Stim’s parking lot.
She put the truck in Park and turned the engine off, then took a deep breath and shook her hands as she let it out.
It was almost impossible for her to process how she had gotten here. From her house that morning, to Alex’s house, to Alex’s bedroom. And then to here. But here she was.
She got out, suddenly very aware that parts of her were quite sore. She shoved her hands into her pockets and lowered her head as she walked into the coffee shop.
She was suddenly filled with a strange sense of déjà vu. Asher was standing there, his back to her, working on making a drink for a customer who was standing there waiting. She waited to feel something. Regret. Desire. That same awe that she had felt watching him make drinks just a couple of weeks ago.
There was nothing.
She was grappling with that when he turned around, white to-go cup in hand, and their eyes clashed. Then he smiled. Like he was actually happy to see her. She was a terrible person.
“I’ll be right with you,” he said. He turned his focus to the customer and handed the man his drink, made some quick small talk with him. Then returned to Clara.
Clara kept her eyes on the other customer, who was putting a packet of raw sugar into his coffee cup. She was not going to start this conversation with an audience. So she waited. And Asher waited too. Awkward silence descended, and they both watched the poor man putting the sugar packets—way too slowly—into his coffee.
Finally, he walked out the door.
“Good to see you,” Asher said. “You have something you want to talk about?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“The awkward silence kind of...gave it away.”
“Right.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I can’t go to Eugene with you.”
He nodded once. “Okay. Is it because of that guy at The Grind?”
Clara closed her eyes. “No.” She opened them again. “Yes. I mean...it’s complicated. It is and it’s not. But I can’t... Something happened. With him.”
Asher shrugged. “Okay. Well, if anything’s ever...not happening with him, we should go out again.”
She blinked. “Okay.” Except she knew that she wouldn’t want to go out with him, even when things weren’t happening with Alex. Because one thing she had learned from her first sexual experience was how attraction felt. And it wasn’t the same as whatever her crush on Asher had been.
“Don’t be a stranger. Hey, before you go, do you want coffee?”
“I don’t like coffee,” she said.
He actually looked surprised by that. “You don’t... But you order coffee from me all the time.”
“Yeah. I liked you. Not coffee.”
He looked a little dazed. “Damn. I guess I was asleep at the wheel on that. But like I said, it’s not a big deal. If things don’t work out with him, seriously, come back and don’t order coffee for me, just ask me out.”
She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I have to go to work now.”
“Okay. See you around.”
She turned and walked back out of Stim, more than a little bemused by what had just transpired. He really just...didn’t care. Well, he did a little bit. Because he definitely seemed to like her. But he wasn’t jealous. Wasn’t possessive at all.
“What kind of new age, hippie crap was that?” she muttered as she got into her truck.
She didn’t like it. She had gone on a date with Asher and Alex had just about morphed into a caveman. She liked that. Much better. She didn’t want wishy-washy milquetoast feelings masquerading as respect. She wanted...she wanted to feel something. She wanted the man she was with to feel something. It didn’t have to be love, it just had to be worth putting some effort into.
Something worth being changed for.
There was no doubt that being with Alex had changed something in her. Or maybe it wasn’t being with him only. Maybe it was getting to the place where she had been brave enough to ask for what she wanted. To admit to herself what she wanted.
It was complicated. And it was big. And she had to go and let that sit in her chest while she did a shift in the tasting room.
As Clara drove down the winding road that led to Grassroots Winery she looked at the trees that lined the narrow roadway, being mindful of the fact that the twists and turns could be deadly if she took them for granted. She sighed. She’d been twisted and turned by life quite enough, thanks.
Though, now she felt a bit twisted and turned in a good way.
The corner of her lip turned up into a smile and she drove on in silent amusement at her own double entendre.
Maybe she was too immature for sex. Or maybe she was exactly the right kind of person to be having it. Because at least she was enjoying it.
Enjoying the fact that she was no longer a virgin.
She hadn’t thought much about it. Mostly because she hadn’t defined herself by it. No one in town did. She was defined by her losses. She was the sad girl who had lost both parents. And recently, the sister of a deceased war hero. Loss was what defined her. Not something she’d held on to.
She blinked back unexpected tears as she pulled into the lot at the winery. Then she looked in the mirror in the truck’s sun visor and grimaced. Great. She hadn’t really thought to check her hair and makeup.
She looked... Well, she looked slightly wrecked. She had gone in to talk to Asher like that.
She cringed in horror. Clearly, she was not as smooth as she imagined. He had asked if something had happened with Alex and she had confirmed it, all while looking like something had definitely just happened with Alex. And the worst part was, it wouldn’t even be gross assumptions on his part. It was the absolute truth.
She groaned, smoothing her hair into place and wiping at the mascara smudges beneath her eyes. Then she took some gloss out of her purse and slipped it over her lips. They looked pink and full on their own, but she preferred that everybody thought it was from makeup. And not from getting seriously kissed recently.
She collected her things and walked quickly across the parking lot, then across the green lawn that led to the tasting room. Normally the rusting setting brought about a certain amount of peace. For a few reasons. It was beautiful, first
of all. But also, it wasn’t her responsibility. It was a lovely place that somebody else took care of. That she was just able to go to and find a certain amount of respite. Even if it was a work shift.
But she felt no peace today. None at all. She felt...well, a little bit giddy. And like she was wearing her recent conquest on her sleeve like a Girl Scout badge.
Achievements in knot tying, making a campfire and losing her virginity.
She rolled her eyes at herself as she walked into the tasting room and shuffled straight into the back to dump her things. When she came out from the kitchen area, she nearly ran into Sabrina, who was standing there with her arms crossed.
“Okay, spill. What really happened?” Sabrina looked avidly interested in Clara, and Clara felt transparent.
“I lost track of time,” Clara said, looking behind Sabrina and hoping to see a dining room full of people. Because that at least would give her an excuse to be busy and not talk. Sadly, it was early yet and the place was empty.
She hurriedly began searching for bar towels to fold. Towels were always necessary. And they’d keep her hands busy and give her something to look at that was not Sabrina.
“You don’t lose track of time, Clara. So tell me. Are you sleeping with him?” Sabrina asked, clearly on tenterhooks for interesting gossip. For once, Clara had some.
But it was a loaded question. A seriously loaded question. And one that Clara could choose to sidestep. Or at least, one that she could use to her advantage, because Sabrina meant Asher. She did not mean Alex.
“I can honestly tell you that I am not sleeping with Asher,” she said, grabbing a damp towel and beginning to wipe down the nearest countertop with extreme officiousness.
“Are you sleeping with somebody?”
Apparently she was transparent as hell.
“Are you?” she countered.
“No,” Sabrina returned easily. “Not even a little bit. Not even close. And anyway, this isn’t about me. Did you miss your work shift because you are sleeping with someone?”
“Yes,” Clara mumbled.
“Clara! I cannot believe you weren’t going to tell me. If I’m going to cover for you—and I have been covering for you today—then I need to know the circumstances of what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry. I was going to tell you. Eventually. I don’t have anyone else to tell. You’re...you’re the best friend I have, and I know we haven’t even hung out outside of work, so that says sad things about my personal life, but it’s true. It’s hard when everything you are is bound up in the sad things that have happened to you. And people either want to only talk about that, or they don’t want to talk about it at all. And sometimes they even avoid you because they don’t want to talk about it. But you don’t do that. I know it’s because you’ve unfortunately been through the same stuff. But regardless, it makes me feel close to you, and I appreciate that.”
Sabrina looked surprised. And pleased. But she pushed down what looked like the start of a smile. “Not close enough to me to tell me that you’re sleeping with someone,” Sabrina grumbled.
“Because I had never done it before,” Clara all but exploded. “I didn’t feel ready to talk about it. I don’t feel ready to be here facing people. It just happened. And...it’s stupid. I never really thought much about it. I mean, about being old to have not done it with somebody before. But I guess I kind of was. And now I’m kind of dealing with all the implications of it after it’s already happened. And now it’s weird. It’s weird, because here I am at work and already telling you I was a virgin a couple of hours ago and I’m not anymore.”
Sabrina blinked, and her mouth opened, then shut again. “Well. That’s not what I expected.”
“You didn’t know you’d made friends with somebody who was so cool, did you?”
Sabrina pulled a face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m good. I mean, I’m a little bit crazy, but I’m good.”
“You’re not weird,” Sabrina said. “Or crazy. There’s nothing wrong with waiting for the right person.”
Clara laughed. “I don’t know if he’s the right person. I just know that it happened. And that I wanted it to. I mean, I kind of pushed him into it. Not that he wasn’t excited about it. You know.”
Sabrina looked slightly uncomfortable now. “Right.”
“But it’s not like I’m in love with him. And it’s not like it’s going to be forever. It’s just that it was time.”
“Clara,” Sabrina said. “It...you didn’t sleep with Asher, did you.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
“So it was...”
“Yes,” Clara said in a rush.
She trailed off into silence, and she noticed that Sabrina’s cheeks were getting increasingly pink. Then she lifted her head, her eyes full of a strange expression she couldn’t quite read.
Clara shifted uncomfortably. “Yes,” she repeated.
Sabrina let out a long, slow breath. Then she bit her lip, looking like she was debating what she was going to say next.
“Sabrina,” Clara said gently, “I just overshared to a massive degree. And I never do that. I have never done it with anyone. Because I’ve never liked anyone enough to do it. So whatever you’re going to say, I’m not going to be upset. And I’m not going to judge you. I know you want to say something, so just say it.”
“How good was he?”
That was not the question Clara had expected. What were you thinking? Or Did you know that I used to get it on with him too? was more what she was expecting given her extreme reluctance.
“How was he? He was...well, I mean it was great. It was great, though I don’t have anything to compare him to.”
“But amazing, right?”
“Yes.”
Sabrina closed her eyes, a wistful expression on her face, and Clara had to wonder if she was thinking of Liam. It was clear to Clara that even though it was ancient history, Sabrina wasn’t over Liam. And there was no mentioning Alex without her thinking of Liam.
“That’s good to know,” Sabrina said. “I mean, nice to know at least one of the Donnelly brothers lives up to the hype.”
Clara couldn’t tell if that was a burn directed at Liam or not.
“He’s not Liam,” Clara said.
“I know,” Sabrina responded. “I do. But it’s impossible not to wonder about similarities.”
“I guess.” She supposed it was impossible if you were still hung up on your ex. But since Clara didn’t have one...
“This isn’t about me,” Sabrina said. “I’m sorry. I’m being weird about the fact that he’s Liam’s brother, and I know that. But Liam being back in town is making me a little bit crazy.”
“Do you still love him?” Clara asked.
Sabrina laughed. “No. I don’t love him. I don’t think I ever did. I mean, how much can you love somebody when you’re seventeen and ridiculous? You don’t know how the world works. You don’t know what you actually need from life. From a man. He wasn’t a man either. He was a boy. Older than me, sure, but still a boy. So I don’t love him.” She blinked rapidly. “I might hate him. But I don’t love him.”
There was so much bitterness in what Sabrina said. And it made Clara feel...well, she didn’t know quite what it made her feel. A little bit nervous, truth be told. Because she knew that Sabrina had not set out to be hurt by Liam. She knew she hadn’t set out to fall in love with him, in whatever way a seventeen-year-old could fall in love.
But she was a teenager. And you’re not.
Still, one thing that Clara didn’t need was another wound that was never going to fully heal. She didn’t want Alex to be a wound.
She wrinkled her nose. He wouldn’t be. That wasn’t what this was about. It wasn’t about Alex. It was about her. She knew that he was onl
y going to be here for a short amount of time. She knew that he was only here to help get the ranch established. To get the bison brought in.
And that was good. It really was. Because she had taken some control in that. And she had finally tapped into a part of herself that she’d been ignoring for a long time. It was healing. Or it was part of it. Part of making herself more than a creature of grief tossed around by life’s waves. Against all those damn rocks.
And when Alex left, she would be a fully, sexually awakened woman. With bison. That was the dream. Well, maybe not so much the bison. But it was a dream.
“I’m sorry he hurt you. But I’m going to be fine,” Clara said, more to herself than to Sabrina.
“Girl, I hope so. But if in the end it hurts... At least he was good, right?”
Clara closed her eyes. “I think no matter what happens this will be worth it.”
Sabrina’s sigh was definitely wistful. “With all the pain Liam left behind, I wish I had more of those memories.”
And that, more than anything, confirmed to Clara that what she was doing was fine enough. Necessary enough.
“Well, I pledge to make memories with Alex’s naked body.”
“Hell yeah.” And then Sabrina lifted her hand and Clara just stared at it. “High five. No high five for sex? Okay.”
Clara laughed. “Wait. I will give a high five for sex.”
Her friend lifted her hand and they engaged in the world’s saddest, most immature high five.
It was a very strange day. Clara had propositioned a man, lost her virginity, broken up with another man and taken a work friendship into real friendship territory. All in all, she was going to count it a win. And in this sad run of losses, she would gladly take it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ALEX FELT LIKE a damn teenage boy. Except never once as a teenage boy had he smuggled condoms in a paper bag that also contained soup and homemade bread. But that’s exactly what he was doing now.
Standing on Clara’s porch with a brown paper bag of deceit, ready to do for a second, third and fourth time what he should never have done even once.
