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"I thought if we had sex, you'd feel better and I'd be able to forget you."
"A pity fuck?" I stepped back and dragged my hands through my hair, about to detonate at the idea of having the best night of my life be a pity fuck, when the last part of her sentence penetrated my dense skull.
"We had sex. It was done. A one-time thing."
I stuck my tongue to the roof of my mouth and took a breath, searching for patience. "I was fucked up after my dad died. Maybe I still am a mess, but after the fog cleared, I realized the best thing I had going for me in these last three months was you. So maybe I cut it too close, but I'm here, and I'm telling you I want to see you again."
Her face closed down, and the shyness, the embarrassment, and even the spark of memory was shuttered. "It's just not meant to be. Anyway, I need to go."
She moved to the car next to mine. When I’d seen the Donovan's seven-year-old car parked in the lot, I sat for twenty minutes for the next space over to open up. Then I lain in wait for Winter, so I wasn't letting her go until we'd hashed this out, which meant she was going to let go of whatever reservations she had and agree to go on a date with me.
"Ivy and I dated in high school, which is the equivalent of having a play date in kindergarten. It's nothing; meant nothing."
"And your first year of college,” she reminded me.
“Barely,” I muttered under my breath.
“When was the last time you had a girlfriend?"
Her question took me off guard, and it was on the tip of my tongue to lie. After all, what did it matter? But lying is something my old man did, and it destroyed my mom, who always, always found out. I loved my old man, but I didn't want to put that kind of haunted look in any woman's eyes. "Before my dad died, I was dating Verity Michaels. She was a friend of a friend of a friend. We dated about six months."
"Why'd you break up?"
"My dad died." I'd had too much going on in my head, and Verity and I’d had a very superficial relationship that consisted of sex and a few dinners out. She was grateful when I suggested we take a break, not wanting to deal with my sudden change in personality. "You want to tell me what this is all about?"
"Ivy says you're emotionally unavailable and that you like being the good guy, so you stick with one woman until you’re bored and then move on. She said in all the years you dated, you never once said ‘I love you.’”
A nerve in my forehead started throbbing at the idea of Ivy and Winter discussing me as potential boyfriend material. I hadn't been the greatest boyfriend to Ivy. At the time, in high school, baseball was the most important thing, followed by my family and my boys. Ivy was convenient. A girl to take to the prom and homecoming. Someone who was more than happy to accept my unrefined backseat, basement, and sometimes bedroom skills. When we both went to State, she drifted into a different crowd, and while I regretted that I didn't catch on to her downward slide and help her, I wasn't torn up that she'd begun cheating on me.
Then I realized I just characterized my dating relationship with Ivy. As a playdate in kindergarten. Oh fuck. Ivy had told Winter that all my relationships with women were superficial. By comparing a four-year relationship with a kindergarten playdate, I’d just confirmed with my own careless words exactly what Ivy said.
"I'm a different person today." How different, though, even I didn’t know. I hadn’t pinpointed yet what I wanted from Winter, but it was more than a one-night stand.
"Right." It wasn't a good enough answer for her because she moved to the driver's side door and opened it. "I'm so sorry about your dad. I know how it feels."
And she did. Maybe that was why that night resonated so strongly for me. Every comforting word Winter whispered came from her own well of grief that ran deep. But I'd seen Ivy not a month before that night with Winter, and she'd said similar things, and I'd just felt relief when I dropped her off. I didn't feel relief watching Winter's taillights drive away from me.
That I hadn't loved anyone I dated in the past wasn't far off the mark, but that didn't mean I wasn't capable of love.
It meant I hadn't met the right girl.
•••
I slept poorly and woke early, which was for the best. I needed to be at the build site before Henry showed up. Downstairs, the house was quiet. Even though I lived with four guys, two of them college students, we had some early risers. Noah, one of the former Marines I’d told Winter about, was training for an upcoming pay-per-view match. He could be out running. The other Marine, Bo, spent most mornings in bed with his girlfriend. Adam was a night owl who saw the ass side of most mornings and hit the sack around the time most people were climbing out of bed to start a new day at work. Mal…he was a mystery. Four years of college and three years of living together and I still didn’t know him or his schedule.
I checked my phone, but it was curiously blank. No texts from Winter. No messages from my mom. I probably needed to drive out to the farm to make sure she was okay.
I pulled the cast-iron frying pan out of the drawer and set it to heat on the stove. As the bacon fried, Bo’s girlfriend AnnMarie stumbled into the kitchen wearing a long gray USMC T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
“You have a good night?” I asked. Her cheeks pinkened. “That good?”
She ignored my comment and pointed to the pan. “Are you making that just for yourself?”
“If you make coffee and toast, I’ll throw in the eggs and bacon.”
“Deal.” She scooped coffee grounds into a filter. “We’ve missed you around here. Are you avoiding us?”
“Yes. Your boyfriend wants to throw me out of an airplane.”
