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Chapter One
Piper
People say it’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.
People are idiots.
If I’d never loved at all, I’d be enjoying a weekend at the lake with a calm mind and a peaceful heart. I’d be watching people fish and I wouldn’t be thinking about the stories some guy told me about the goliath trout he caught last summer. I’d be sucking in the fresh mountain air, and I wouldn’t be thinking about the scent of pine on his skin. I’d hear a motorcycle rumble in the distance, and I wouldn’t think of his colossal, tattooed frame bent onto it.
Hell, I’d probably be flirting with the hot, age-appropriate guy on the pier. I’d bet he has some inflated fishing stories to tell.
Instead, I’m stuck on the burning sand with a terrible, cold, bitter, IPA and a head full of thoughts about a man I can’t have.
I take another sip of the awful beer I’m nursing and let out a sigh as I watch my father tie the boat up at the dock. He’s talking to the hot fisherman. No doubt he’s telling him about the single daughter he has who’s in desperate need of a night out. My dad is like that…lovingly intrusive.
I think some people might call it toxic, but where we’re from, it’s customary to grin and bear ill thoughts of your parents. Especially when they’re generally good people,which my parents are. They’ve never done a sideways thing in their lives. My dad owns the service shop in town, and my mom collects antiques and sells them on Main Street. There’s an age gap between them, but that was back when people didn’t think much about those things.
“Peanut…” Dad’s voice is heavy with concern. It’s been this way since he found me with the man I shouldn’t be thinking about. It was a few months back. I was supposed to be in the Springs advertising for Dad’s shop at a biker convention. Instead, I was riding around with Romeo. He’s a biker and drug dealer from the Death Rangers MC that I had no business being with. We met at last year’s convention, and we kept in contact every day since.Every hour of every day for a year—until six weeks ago.
Dad sits on the hot sand beside me. “Is this about what happened with that Death Ranger guy? Maybe you should see a counselor.” He’s been urging me to see someone for months. My parents still think Romeo kidnapped me because that’s what I let them believe. When Dad saw the two of us together, I panicked and, I don’t know, words came out.
Words I hate myself for. Mostly because the look on Romeo’s face as I pushed him away has haunted me every day. He’s the last person on Earth I’d ever want to hurt.
“No, it’s not about him,” I lie and stare out at the lake, watching the waves as they gently lap against the shore.How the hell do I get out of this conversation?
“What’s this about then, sweetheart? You’ve been in your head for weeks. We’re worried about you.”
If I were to tell my parents that I’ve spentevery waking secondthinking about a Death Ranger, they’d have me committed. Thenthey’dspend every waking second wondering where they went wrong as parents. I can’t take that pressure. The pressure of disappointment from the people you’re supposed to be making proud. Anxiety rises in my throat at the mere thought.
I glance back toward my father. “I’m struggling with figuring a major.” This is another lie. I haven’t thought about college once, despite the fact that they’ve been on me to make a decision for years.
He perks. “Oh good! Where are you thinking?”
Considering this thought is not true and I don’t know many colleges, I stick to the easy answer. “Colorado State. I hear they have a good horticulture program.”
“Horticulture?”He looks away. I already know he’s displeased. “Please don’t tell me you’re considering the orchard thing again. There are enough ranches here. You’ll be white noise.”
My chest tightens and sinks. When I was young, I always imagined myself living on a little ranch with a Christmas tree farm and an orchard. I didn’t care what I grew as long as I was down at the market with bushels of fresh fruit every Sunday. He knows this. My whole family does. Their disapproval of my plan is part of the reason I’m stuck in limbo. I snap my gaze back toward him. “What doyouthink I should major in, Dad?”
He shrugs and his tone softens. “A degree costs money is all. You should spend it on something useful. Something that willmakeyou money in return.”
“An orchard will make me money. And technically, I don’t need college to run it.”
He hangs his head and sighs as though he’s fed up with me already. “And where will you get the money to buy this orchard? You’ll need a good-paying job for that. The few hundred you make cleaning my service shop every week won’t support a land purchase that big.”
That’s the truth. I know because I’ve been saving.
“Not sure yet.” I stare down at the sand, squeezing the grains between my toes as I reorganize every disrespectful thing I’m feeling. “I need some space to think, I guess.”
Dad squeezes my hand in comfort, and I stare back out at the lake.
The shoreline is rocky, with colorful gravel in shades of green, red, and white. Spindly legged skimmers skitter across the surface as boats roar and thump across waves in the distance. It’s a gorgeous day to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine but I’m not staying.
“I think I’m going to head back to the house.”
Dad stands and wraps me up in a soft hug.
Why am I so worried about disappointing him? Why does it matter? Why can’t I be who I am and stop worrying about what everyone else thinks?
