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Josie
“Shit.” Everett pulls out of me so abruptly that I hiss, fluid spilling out of me onto the dry earth below. Oookay. “Shit. I need to go find him.”
Not how I imagined my first time ending, but, you know. This is not a normal situation.
Still, I try to seem calm as I sit up, my limbs stiff and blades of grass stuck to my hair. Everett’s kneeling above me, tugging his belt closed, his face cast in shadow, and I touch his knee, suddenly shy. “Harry will be okay.”
A cold breeze drifts over my bare chest and I shiver, yanking my top back down over my rumpled bra. “He just needs some space to process. If we give him some time to think, then tomorrow we can sit him down and tell him—”
“This was a mistake.”
I go still, my heart clenching painfully.
No. No, he doesn’t mean that.
You can’t make love to a girl like that, can’t touch her and taste her and worship her body like she’s the holy grail, only to toss it all away like it was nothing. There’s no way.
“We all need sleep.” I try again, voice hoarse. “If we all take a minute to cool down, then tomorrow things will look better.”
“Josie,” Everett snaps, pushing to his feet. He glares down at me, and I feel like a bug in the dirt. Worthless. “I told you. Harry is my nephew. This was a mistake.”
Huh.
Didn’t know my chest could cave in on itself like this. Then Everett tosses my shorts and panties into my lap, and I want to cry.
Actually, no: I want to yank these clothes on, surge to my feet, push Everett Bray into the freaking fire pit, and then I want to cry.
But real life doesn’t work like that, so I settle for dressing quickly, chin ducked. A tragic part of me thinks Everett will take it back, that he’ll kneel down next to me and sweep me into his arms and tell me that was dumb, that he didn’t mean it. That it was a knee-jerk reaction, his old shame rearing its ugly head. And I’ll yell at him a little, but we’ll be okay.
Heavy steps crunch against the gritty earth as Everett strides away, calling for Harry.
My clothes are uncomfortable, my panties sticking to the wetness still leaking out of me, and I thought I knew low points before? Guess someone up there is laughing. It’s a hell of a joke, and it’s all on me.
I can’t go back inside.
Can’t face being in the same building as Everett Bray right now.
So I sit beside the fire pit for the rest of the night, until dawn stains the sky and there’s nothing left but embers.
* * *
A long, hot shower makes me feel a tiny bit more human. Let’s say three percent. I use the bathroom in Harry’s barn, even though he’s surely mad at me, because I cannot go near Everett’s place, even though all my stuff’s in there. I just can’t.
I borrow a black pair of Harry’s sweatpants and one of his burgundy college t-shirts, too, knotting the baggy hem near my hips. My hands are steady, but I’m numb.
I know I have no right to borrow Harry’s things. Know I’m a terrible friend.
But I can’t wear my clothes from last night for another single second, and I can’t risk bumping into his uncle. So here we are—and I have another thing to beg forgiveness for.
The Barns are quiet. I don’t know where the Bray men wound up last night, but there’s no sound from any of the buildings. Harry’s bed doesn’t look slept in when I poke my head around the bedroom doorway, but his stuff is still here, so with any luck, he hasn’t gone forever.
I left my phone in Everett’s bedroom.
If I send out physic brainwaves, will Harry hear those instead of a text?
It’s dumb, but I try it anyway, mentally calling out for my best friend through the ether as I fix a strong coffee in his kitchenette. After a moment’s pause, I make a second mug, too.
Maybe I can summon him with an offering. Like the old gods.
