“Holy shit.” Liam ran after me, landing on his knees at my side. He wrapped those fingers of his around my arm and pulled me out of the water bowl until I sat upright with my back against the washer. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I tried to shake him off, but his grip was stronger than I expected.
“Jasper,” he said.
I pushed away from him and got to my feet, reaching down and pulling my wet and ruined shirt off once and for all. I threw it on the floor in front of the dryer and clenched my jaw, realizing too late what I’d just done.
“Jasper,” he said again, his voice an octave lower than before.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, pushing past him and back into the kitchen. Gus dutifully lapped up the spilled coffee, and I headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time until I reached the safety of my bedroom.
I closed the door and locked it, then barely made it to my bed before my knees gave out. On my ass in the laundry room, I’d had a painful realization that wanting to move on wasn’t the same as being ready to move on. I’d been foolish and mixed them up, and I didn’t know where that left me.
I wanted Liam.
I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, deny that.
But was I ready for him? Or for anyone?
I ached for the touch of another man, but when that other man existed? When he was right in front of me and eager to help me make up for years of lost contact? That was different. That was…
“You’re embarrassing,” I mumbled to myself, falling back on the bed with a groan.
I allowed myself five minutes of self-pity, then I shuffled into the bathroom and turned on all the heads in the shower. I let my gaze wander toward the ceiling, appreciating the long glass doors that went all the way up. Michael was the one who’d wanted to install a steam shower.
At the time, the idea felt frivolous and ridiculous, and we argued. But in the end, he won because I could never tell him no. It hadn’t taken long for me to come to appreciate not only the practicality of the shower, but also the added features. It was like having our very own wet sauna, and he’d taken me in there on more than one occasion. With our skin wet from the steam and the spray, he’d bent me over the marble bench and taken me apart, only to put me back together before the water ran cold.
I stripped out of my pants and stepped into the shower, closing the door behind me. I sat down on the bench that held so many memories for me, then I scooted into the corner and lifted my legs, tucking them against my chest. And then, for the first time in a very long time, I let myself think about Michael without worry or guilt.
I remembered when he turned twenty-one and we’d gone to Colebury to celebrate, but got so drunk we didn’t remember anything in the morning. I remembered our engagement, our wedding, the honeymoon, the endless spring nights we spent together counting fireflies on the porch. I thought about arguing over sheets and who got to carve the ham on Easter, and it was like a floodgate opened.
My heart was assaulted with memories about the man I’d built my life around, and then… then I remembered the way I’d nearly broken my hand when I punched a hole in the wall after I put him in the ground. The nights I spent alone in tears, too wrapped up in my misery and my loneliness to accept help from anyone else.
I thought about all of it, and none of it, and then I wiped my face, not knowing if it was tears or water that raced down my cheeks, and I turned off the shower. I dried myself, I dressed, and then I joined Liam on the porch and listened to him hum that same song under his breath until it was time for lunch.
I wanted.
And I was ready.
10
Liam
“Thank you,” I said under my breath, adjusting my grip on my guitar case.
“What for?” Jasper cast a glance in my direction, and in the glow of the parking lot, it looked different than the other looks he’d given me. I’m sure it was a trick of the lights.
“Coming tonight. Bringing me down,” I said.
The part I left unspoken was, thank you for letting me sleep on your couch because the part for my car got sent to a repair shop in Burlington, Ontario, not Burlington, Vermont. Thank you for speaking in more than grunts, thank you for frying eggs, and thank you for letting me touch you for the blink of an eye.
“Sorry your car isn’t fixed yet,” he said.
I shifted my weight and gave him a half-hearted shrug. “It’s not so bad.”
Jasper exhaled a breath that sounded like a groan and started toward the bar.
Baby steps. I followed him inside, the warmth of the place wrapping around me as soon as the door closed. Jasper was already at the bar and I joined him, setting my guitar at my feet and jumping onto a stool.
“Mulled wine again?” the bartender, Auden, asked me. I recognized him from Wednesday, and even though I didn’t really know him, it was nice to see a familiar face.
“Sure.”
"You?” Auden cast a quick glance at Jasper, and I wondered if Jasper had come here before. If he had a drink? If he’d been a normal patron before.
“Shipley cider,” Jasper said, drumming his fingers against the edge of the bar top.
Auden nodded and went to get our drinks and I leaned close to Jasper.
“Do you come here a lot?” I asked
“No,” he said.
“It’s a nice place.” I looked around, surveying the decor and the patrons. “Everyone seems friendly.”
Jasper followed my stare around the room, and I felt it like a weight when it landed on me. I swallowed. I could feel the intent behind the way Jasper looked at me, and I didn’t know if it was obvious to everyone else, but it nearly felt indecent to me.
"What is Shipley cider?” I managed to ask, clearing my throat and forcing him to meet my gaze.
I’d been right, though. The way Jasper looked at me was indecent, and I shifted around on the stool, not used to the attention from him and confused as to when it had turned from cool indifference to something a little hotter.
“A local cidery,” he answered.
“Right.”
Auden returned, setting a bottle in front of Jasper and a wine glass in front of me. I reached for it and took a questionably long drink, hoping the warm and spicy wine would help calm my nerves.
“So,” I started, putting what I hoped to be a reasonably friendly and not sexually charged smile on my face, “How does this open mic thing work?”
Jasper paused, the rim of the bottle pressed against his lower lip, his mouth barely open. I could see the whites of his teeth, the tip of his tongue…
My lashes fluttered and I looked away.
“Don’t know,” he said. “Ask Auden.”
“You just need to find Jon,” Auden answered, without being asked.
“Who is Jon?”
“I’ll show you.” A voice behind me that I definitely didn’t recognize echoed in my ear, startling me. I jumped a bit and turned, finding Emmett, whom I did recognize, standing beside another man.
“This is Tai,” Emmett said, a soft smile settling on his face. “Nice to see you again, Liam, and nice to see you out, Jasper.”
“It is nice.” Tai bounced a little, practically oozing amusement out of his pores.
Jasper made a grunting noise behind me, and I committed three things about Tai to memory.
Tai has really great style.
Tai loves Emmett.
Tai has a nice voice.
“Jon’s up on stage,” Emmett said, tipping his chin toward the corner. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
“And I’ll keep Jasper company.”
As I stood, Tai slid onto the stool I’d vacated and patted Jasper on the back.
“Come on,” Emmett said.
I watched Tai say something that made Jasper smile and then I followed Emmett toward the stage. A flare of jealousy sparked in my stomach, and I couldn’t stop myself from frowning. I wanted to make Jasper smile. I wanted to touch him and have him not literally throw h
imself out of the house to avoid it.
“You like him,” he said to me.
“He’s likeable.” I shrugged, wanting to play it off. I knew nothing would come of how I felt, and it didn’t matter if I liked him or not. I’d be off his couch and on my way to New Hampshire once the water pump showed up.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” I said softly.
“He likes you,” Emmett said.
My breath lodged in my throat. How were the words I’d been so invested in hearing suddenly so heavy and wrong?
“No,” I protested, clearing my throat and giving Emmett what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “He doesn’t.”
“Be easy with him.” Emmett turned away from me and raised his hand. “Hey, Jon. This is Liam. He’s in from out of state and wanted to play a couple songs tonight.”
“Good,” Jon answered, his voice gravelly and rough. I realized he was the guy who’d been playing on Wednesday when I’d gotten into town. “You can be up in ten.”
“What?” I sputtered.
“Ten minutes. You have a guitar or you need the piano?”
“Guitar.” I gestured vaguely toward the bar.
“Ten minutes, then,” Jon said again.
Meeting people in this town was getting exhausting, but remembering three things about Jon was easy.
Jon is older than me
Jon is more talented than me.
Jon’s voice was deeper before puberty than mine is now.
“Thanks,” Emmett said for me while I catalogued Jon into my memory, then he turned and headed back to where Jasper and Tai sat, heads bowed together in a quiet conversation.
I wanted to have quiet conversations with Jasper.
“All set?” Tai asked, looking up when we got back and giving Emmett a sly smile.
“Yeah.” I swallowed. “I just…I need a second.”
I ducked my head and took off toward the door, zipping my jacket up as I went. I shoved the door open, the chilly night air blasting me in the face. I inhaled a sharp breath that burned my lungs and threw myself onto one of the many sidewalk benches.
The street the bar sat on was one of those cute tourist streets closed to cars so people could walk down the center. There were shops and restaurants, and of course the bookstore that shared an entrance with the bar. Market lights zigzagged their way over the street and around the bare trees. Objectively it was cute. Everything about Burlington was homey. The streets, the people, Jasper’s house.
I dropped my head back and stared up at the sky. It was clear, the moon bright and stars twinkling. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Manny. He answered quickly, his greeting muffled.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Did I catch you with a mouthful of dick?”
“It’s dinnertime,” he mumbled. “I’m eating. What do you want?”
“I like it here.”
“Where is here?” he asked.
“Vermont.”
“You’re still in Vermont?” Manny’s words finally sounded coherent.
“Yeah. My car isn’t fixed yet.”
“Have you finessed the hot mechanic yet?” he asked.
I grimaced, closing my eyes and studying the constellations on the backs of my eyelids. I didn’t want to finesse Jasper. I could have done it already if that’s what I’d wanted, but… I didn’t know how to put words to it. I wanted Jasper, but I didn’t just want to conquer him anymore. I wanted him to want it, to more than want it, but I didn’t think that was achievable.
“No,” I said, not eager to explain myself.
“That’s not like you.”
“He’s out here all alone.”
“You’re staying with him,” Manny said.
“I know. But… Never mind.” I sighed and opened my eyes.
“I need to tell you something. But you’re not going to like it.”
“Is this a lecture about my self-worth or my sexual tendencies?” I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the cobblestones in the center of the street.
“No. Your dad called me.”
I straightened, my chest tightening around my lungs and making it near impossible to breathe in the cold.
“What… what did he want?” I asked.
There was no reason for either of my parents to call Manny unless they knew I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
“He said he hadn’t heard from you and your mom was getting worried.”
“Shit,” I muttered.
“I don’t think he knows you’re gone, but you should call them and check in.”
“Fine.”
“Liam,” Manny said, like he knew I wouldn’t do it.
“I’ll call them tomorrow,” I promised. “What did you tell them?”
“He asked if I’d seen you and I said no. He told me that was weird, and I said you were just busy. I told him you were fine. That I’d talked to you, just hadn’t seen you,” Manny regurgitated the conversation to me.
“He has to suspect I’ve done something, that I’ve left or…” I didn’t dare finish the thought or else I’d manifest it into reality.
I swallowed, blinking back tears. What had I been thinking? There was no way I could have pulled this off without him finding out. Sooner or later, he would realize I wasn’t where he thought I was. My dad was too well connected for me to get this far without him catching on. It wasn’t that I’d be in trouble for taking the trip, but I’d be in trouble over my reasons for taking the trip.
I didn’t know how to tell my parents I didn’t want to finish school, that I didn’t want to go into politics. I didn’t want the life they’d groomed me for, but I didn’t know what I wanted as an alternative. Just not… that.
“It’ll be fine,” Manny said.
“I don’t want to tell him the truth,” I whispered.
Behind me, someone cleared their throat and I spun around, finding Emmett. He gave me a cautious look, his arms folded over his chest.
“How long were you there?” I asked, worried about how much of my conversation he’d overheard.
Emmett exhaled a long breath. “Long enough. Come on, you’re up.”
“I gotta go, Manny.” I ended the call and scrambled up from the bench. “It’s not what it sounded like.”
“I told you to be easy on him.” Emmett held the door for me and I slipped back into the warmth of the bar. My wine sat untouched between Jasper and Tai, and I shoved my arm through and grabbed the glass, pouring it back in one swallow.
The warmth and the spices burned my throat and I grimaced, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Take it easy, there,” Jasper said softly.
“I’m good, Sparky,” I lied.
I was anything but good. I was confused by my own brain, my own wants. How could I want Jasper and not want him at the same time? How could I even care what Emmett had overheard? How would it impact his opinion of me or Jasper’s thoughts about me?
I was leaving Vermont. There was half a country left to see.
None of that mattered, even though all of it did.
I grabbed my guitar case and left Jasper at the bar, meeting Jon on the stage. I set my case down and flipped it open, petting my trembling hand over the strings of my guitar.
“You ready?” he asked.
I nodded.
“All right,” Jon said into the mic, that rough voice of his washing the worry out of my mind.
I stepped onto the stage and sat on the stool in front of the mic. The bar was barely lit, but a bright light from the ceiling to the stage washed everything out. It was better this way. I strummed a test chord to make sure my hand wasn’t shaking too bad. It sounded passable, and I hoped my voice would match.
Jon slid the mic closer to me and I leaned in, tapping it once.
“Hi, everyone,” I said, clearing my throat.
Why was I nervous? I’d done this a thousand times before.
“My name is Liam and
I’m here for a few days from California. I’m gonna play you some songs that I like to listen to on the road.” I strummed a few more notes, then launched into a song.
11
Jasper
“He has quite a presence,” Emmett said beside me.
I exhaled and finished my cider.
Emmett wasn’t wrong. Sitting on my couch wrapped in blankets and tired from sleep, Liam was a force. On stage with a guitar and a microphone, he was a hurricane.
“What’s his deal?” Tai asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Like, what’s he do? Where’s he from? Why’s he here? Why’s he still here?”
“Part’s delayed because of the storm,” I grunted, shoving my empty bottle toward Auden.
“And the rest?”
“He’s from California,” I said.
“What’s he do?” Tai asked.
I got frustrated, heat flaring up the back of my neck. “I don’t know and it doesn’t matter.”
“Jasper,” Emmett said gently.
“I need some air.” I climbed off the stool and trudged outside, zipping up my coat on the way toward the door. On stage, Liam continued playing and I hoped he didn’t see my departure as a dismissal, but the inquiry from my friends was too much. I liked Emmett and Tai, but sometimes they made me really appreciate Devon and the easy silences between us.
The night air was brisk, but the sky was clear and the snow from the storm earlier in the week had melted. I sat down on one of the metal benches that faced the street and sighed. I wasn’t mad at Emmett and Tai for poking around, but I was mad I didn’t have answers for them.
Liam was skilled at avoiding my questions while spending all of his time needling answers out of me about my past. I’d managed to avoid telling him about Michael, instead letting him assume what he wanted about the state of my marriage. But whenever I pushed him to answer my own, he deflected, and worse… he flirted. I didn’t know a single thing about him besides the kind of car he owned and where he was from.
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