Everything Girl

by Emily Mayer

  I let out a miserable sigh. "I can't have sex with you. Not just sex. I'm not good at it."

  Jack made a choking noise, his hands pausing briefly. "You're not good at it? I would have to disagree pretty strongly. You were doing great."

  "What?" I said, confused. I played back my words and shook my head, realizing it had sounded like I’d just announced to this man who was walking sex that I was not good at sex. "Ugh, no, that's not what I meant. I meant that I can't just have sex with you, like a fling or one-night stand or whatever. I need more."

  His hands resumed their leisurely exploration of my back. "I know."

  I lifted my head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. My gaze was skeptical, but it didn't seem to bother him. All easy confidence, he just smiled at me.

  "I don't understand." I needed him to spell it out for me.

  "I know you're not the type for a one-time thing, and I don't want you to be a one-time thing." His gaze bored into mine like he was waiting to see how I would react to his confession.

  "I’m so confused," I responded. The dam had broken wide open and I couldn't stem the flow of words now. "What do you want from me, Jack? Because honestly, a couple weeks ago, I was pretty sure you hated me."

  His expression was pained for a moment as he watched the emotions play across my face.

  "I never hated you, Evelyn. You got off that plane and I wasn't expecting you. When Ben said you were his personal assistant, I was out of my fucking mind with jealousy. I should've known you weren't his type, that you were better than that, after you tried to help me with the luggage. You're smart and kind and funny and so goddamn pretty that you wrecked everything without even trying. I tried to avoid you, put some distance between us. I'm sorry for being an ass, but I didn't want to be back in this situation again." The vulnerability I glimpsed in his eyes tugged at my heart. "I didn't want to fall for someone who didn't want to stay. But you're impossible to resist, and you're worth the risk."

  A slow smile crept across my face as I listened. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or cry, but I knew there was one thing I definitely wanted to do. I kissed him. He responded instantly, his mouth moving to catch up with mine. I broke apart before I forgot there were things I needed to say.

  "I am really, really happy with that answer. We can figure this out together, if you want to. I mean, I didn't exactly plan for this either. For you."

  His hands moved to either side of my head, gently moving my gaze from his mouth to his eyes.

  "I want this. I want to try with you." His voice was so sure. It did strange things to my heart. Strange things that I liked so much it scared me a little.

  "Okay." I nodded, his hands still cradling my face. He smiled at me before placing a kiss on my forehead and releasing my face.

  "Okay." He smiled, looking more than a little relieved. The realization that I made this beautiful man nervous stretched my smile impossibly wide. "We should get to bed. It's pretty late and we both have to be up early."

  Heat pooled low in my stomach. I peeled myself off his lap, standing on wobbly legs.

  "Yes, that's a good idea. You’re just full of good ideas tonight."

  Jack chuckled, standing to join me. I snuck a peek at the tent he was sporting in his pajama pants, and I wasn't disappointed. My cheeks warmed.

  Jack cleared his throat and my gaze instantly snapped to his. He looked very amused—and very pleased with himself. "Let's go, before you get us into trouble." He adjusted himself with a smug smile.

  I hoped he was as suffering as much as I was from his ridiculous self-control. I was fully prepared to rip his clothes off on the couch regardless of who might see us. At this point, Jesus could walk by and I would not care. Would. Not. Care. But I followed him up the stairs anyway.

  Much to my disappointment, Jack actually meant go to bed—separately, to sleep. I tried to drag him into my room caveman-style, but he insisted we do things right, and proceeded to kiss me senseless. I closed the door reluctantly, thinking that it had been, without a doubt, the best goodnight kiss of my life.

  39.

  Despite last night's turn of events, I woke up grumpy to the sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand. I’d been too restless to fall asleep after Jack left me panting in the hallway. My body seemed to have missed the memo that it wasn't going to see any action last night, and refused to calm down even after I’d splashed my face with cold water in sheer desperation. Turns out that trick only works if you’re actually hot.

  I looked at the screen to see a message from Elise.

  Elise: Do you know what I wish right now? That I had actually paid attention when Dad tried to teach us how to change a tire. Sitting in the coffee shop parking lot, waiting for the tow guy to come change my tire.

  Corinne: Yikes. At least you have a cup of coffee while you wait! Here's a video of Celeste being Celeste to help pass the time.

  I clicked play to see a video of Celeste singing to herself in the mirror while wearing two tutus under her nightgown. I laughed. My mood was already brightening.

  Me: Omg, she is going to love you so much when you play that for her prom date.

  Corinne: I knowwww.

  Elise: That was perfect. I'm going to need about 50 more of those videos to keep me entertained.

  I briefly debated mentioning last night, my fingers hovering above the screen. A part of me was afraid Jack would feel differently this morning, but I decided to take a leap of faith.

  Me: So, fun fact, Jack kissed me last night. A lot. There was a lot of kissing. And then I kind of mauled him.

  Corinne: OMG OMG OMG WHAT?! Tell me everything!

  Elise: Why are we just now finding out about this? Please tell me you had sex with him.

  Me: We were watching TV on the couch, and the next thing I know, he’s kissing me. Sorry, Elise, there was no sex. I pretty much begged him, but he was said he "wanted to do things right" blah blah blah. I just wanted the D.

  Me: I can’t believe I just said that.

  Elise: Send me a picture of you right now.

  Me: What? Why?

  Elise: JUST DO IT

  I snapped the world's most unflattering selfie.

  Elise: Oh thank God. I thought someone interesting had kidnapped you and was using your phone.

  Corinne: I am honestly too stunned to fully appreciate this moment. You and Jack are a thing now?

  Me: Yeah, we're a thing. I mean unless he changed his mind already, which is totally possible.

  Elise: There's the Evelyn we know and love. Of course he didn’t change his mind!

  Corinne: So how do we feel about all this?

  I let my head drop back onto the pillows. It was a fair question. How did I feel about this? Physically I felt amazing. Beyond amazing. The memory of his kisses made my stomach flutter. But my brain and my heart were urging me to be more practical. I sighed.

  Me: I feel completely out of my element with him, and more than a little scared. Buttt mostly, I think I feel good about it. It feels right. He feels right.

  I was surprised to find that my response was the truth. Even as I got dressed and made the familiar walk to the kitchen, I couldn't shake the feeling of rightness that had started as soon as Jack's lips connected with mine.

  Coffee seemed to jumpstart my mind—and with it, all the worries. After stopping to say good morning to King, I made my way to Photo's stall for a morning ride to clear my head. It might have been leftover bravery from last night that had me leading Photo away from the barn and down the path Jack and I had taken on our maybe-date. As I took in the scenery, I also tried to take inventory of my scattered thoughts.

  For the first time, I didn’t have a plan. Starting something with Jack was a complication I didn't need. I had no idea what I was doing with my life, and I knew my focus should be figuring out my next steps. Realistically, my life was at least two states away from his life, and I couldn't see that changing.

  I also couldn't ignore the part of me that knew ‘h
aving a plan’ wasn't a guarantee of happiness. I’d tried that once, and it had brought me nothing but a ton of student loans and a job I hated.

  The undeniable truth was that I had nothing to lose but my heart.

  All those thoughts fled when I made my way back to Pinehaven and found Jack walking toward me with a smile on his face. He held Photo's reins while I dismounted and then tugged me into his arms with his free hand.

  "Hi," I said, suddenly feeling a little shy.

  "Hi," he answered before covering my mouth with his. I sighed when he deepened the kiss. He pulled back, only to give me a slow kiss that left me clinging to his shirt. All my worrying about the future had been for nothing, because there was a real chance I would not survive this man anyway.

  "Did you have a good ride?" he asked when we finally separated.

  I may have been thinking more about the kiss than the ride when I answered, "Yeah, it was perfect."

  "I like seeing you on a horse." Jack released me and started to lead Photo into the barn.

  If I had responded honestly it would have gone something like, ‘I can think of something else I’d like to ride.’ But I stuck with the much safer, "Oh yeah? You don't mind seeing a city girl up on a horse without you there to babysit her while she plays cowboy?"

  Okay, so maybe not that much safer. Jack took my small jab in stride, shaking his head with a self-deprecating grin.

  "What are the odds you let me live that one down sometime this century?" he asked, taking down Photo's saddle and passing it back to me.

  The things it did to my heart when he used words like ‘century.’ I hmmed, pretending to give his question some thought. "Not great."

  He chuckled. "That's what I thought. Are you hungry? I've got to get the goat enclosure ready before Mom and Gabe show up with them, but I've got time for lunch."

  "Lunch sounds good."

  We worked together to get Photo's tack off and settle her back into her stall. On our walk to the house, Jack reached out to take my hand in his, so casually, and I wondered if he felt how right this seemed. He kept my hand trapped firmly in his much bigger, rougher one until we got to the kitchen, only releasing it to peer into the fridge.

  "What are you in the mood for?" His voice sounded muffled as he shifted the fridge's contents around.

  "Um, anything is fine. Anything that’s already been cooked by your mom, I mean," I added, just in case my inability to cook wasn't already obvious. I didn't think burning lunch would impress his pants off.

  He turned around to smile at me, holding a pile of plastic containers and various ingredients. "How do you feel about paninis?"

  "Ohhh, fancy. I like it." I slid onto a stool to watch him. "Do you need any help?"

  "Nah, they're easy," he said, pulling out slices of bread and setting them on the counter. "So you don't cook? At all?"

  "That depends,” I said, wondering when I had started finding cooking such an attractive activity.

  "On?" Jack prompted.

  "On whether you think boxed mac and cheese is cooking. I can also make a mean microwavable dinner." When had he started smiling so much? This was the elusive man Margot had tried to assure me existed. "Where did you learn to cook? From your mom?"

  "Yeah. I can't say I had much interest in learning until a couple years in on the circuit. After traveling started to get old."

  "How so?" I was having trouble connecting rodeos to cooking.

  "You do a lot of traveling, so it's a lot of shitty bar food or whatever you pass by or end up near. I learned a couple things to make on a hot plate. Nothing fancy." He reached for a pan, coating it with butter before placing it on the stove—all while I watched the muscles on his forearm flex, like a creep. "Plus, a grown man shouldn't have to ask his mom to make him a meal."

  I laughed. "I don't know about that. Your mom’s a pretty amazing cook. When I visit my family, my mom still sends me home with a ton of precooked meals and groceries, just like she did when I was in college."

  The smell of butter melting and all the talk about food reminded my stomach that woman could not survive on coffee alone, and it gave an embarrassingly loud growl. Jack deposited a panini on my plate without breaking that easy grin. "Sounds like this is just in time."

  The color in my cheeks deepened three more shades as a I smiled sheepishly up at him. "Thanks. This looks amazing."

  It also tasted amazing. I hopped off my stool and poured two glasses of lemonade, feeling oddly at ease with this very domestic scene—so at ease, in fact, that I stopped to give Jack a quick kiss on the cheek on the way back to my spot.

  Jack took the spot next to me, his thigh pressed close to mine. I silently willed myself not to choke.

  "What are you doing tonight?" he asked, taking a bite of his panini.

  I paused to stare at him, then cleared my throat, trying to sound nonchalant. "Nothing. I have no plans." Then I realized I had a mouth full of sandwich shoved into my cheek as I answered him, doing my very own impression of a human chipmunk.

  "I have some ideas on how we should approach King. I really want to get him settled before we start getting snow. He's too exposed out there in that paddock, especially with his coat in the shape it is. I was thinking we could start tonight, if you have time."

  We. We. We.

  The word ricocheted around my heart, knocking things loose and just generally wreaking havoc.

  I nodded my head in agreement, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice. "I have time."

  The way Jack was looking at me right now made me wish I had all the time in the world to give him. I just hoped what I had would be enough.

  40.

  After lunch, I shooed Jack out the door, promising I would clean up our lunch mess—but not before he pressed me into the counter for a kiss that left me hungry for more than a sandwich.

  I made my way to the office to work on the project I had been so excited about before last night turned everything upside down. Finishing it would mean Ben and I were one step closer to leaving. I rubbed that spot just below my shoulder that ached a little at the thought of leaving. Somewhere down there was the truth, floating just below the surface. When I looked out the window and saw the empty goat enclosure surrounded by barns and fields, it was easier to grasp that buried thing.

  "I don't want to leave." The walls were the only ones to hear my confession, but the weight of the words pressed down on me just the same.

  After a while, Ben joined me, adding his own insights to the work I had done the previous evening. He seemed pleased with how much we had already accomplished, and suggested we start getting the material organized to present. I smiled through the anxiety I felt bubbling up, and agreed. It was the next logical step in the process.

  But I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Are we both going back for the board meeting?"

  Ben gave me an enthusiastic smile, because of course he didn't understand the real reason for my question.

  "Yes, Evelyn, we’re going back to the land of food delivery and coffee shops on every corner. I managed to get in contact with everyone, and they’re expecting us at the meeting. Peterson even agreed it was time for me to come back. It’s time to get back to the real world."

  His words left me hollow. It was the same feeling that had taken root in my chest the day I had finally handed in my resignation letter, a horrible combination of dread and uncertainty. Why did it feel like my world was right here?

  The sound of the trailer bouncing along the gravel road had us both looking out the window to see if Gabe and Mary were back.

  "This should be good." Ben turned, closing his laptop.

  Without discussion, we headed for the door and got out to the truck just in time to see Gabe swinging down from the driver's side. His hat was missing part of its brim and the hem of his shirt looked like it had been torn in places. The easy smile that was almost a permanent fixture on his too-handsome face was missing; a frown tugged down the corner of his mouth.

  I gave
him a tentative wave, and he shot me a thunderous look that made my hand drop back limply to my side.

  "What's going on?" My eyes flicked briefly away to Jack approaching us.

  "These goats are a fucking menace,” Gabe huffed, coming to stand next to me and placing both hands on his hips. It looked like he was making a visible effort to pull himself together. "I swear to God, Evie. Little fucking nightmares."

  I heard Ben coughing to cover up a laugh. He cleared his throat before motioning up and down with his hand and asking, "Are they responsible for… whatever happened here?”

  Even Hank Williams, who had just hopped out of the passenger's side, was looking a little frazzled. Mary was wearing a placating smile, following behind him. Hank made a hasty exit toward the porch. I watched him slump down into a shady spot before returning my attention back to Mary.

  "Now, don't anyone worry, they were just a little nervous about the trailer." Her smile was starting to fray around the edges.

  Ben, Jack, and I exchanged glances. Gabe made a huffing noise, but made no movement toward the truck. A bleating noise came from the trailer, followed by an entire chorus of bleating. Still no one made any movement. This was starting to feel like a bad horror movie. The bleating slowly wound down, leaving an eerie silence. It reminded me of the last few kernels of popcorn in the microwave.

  Jack took a decisive step forward, then came to a halt when a metal pinging sound came from inside the trailer. Another ping followed close behind, then another. My hand shot out, grasping Jack by the arm and dragging him backward as the pings intensified.

  Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.

  It sounded like someone was throwing a rubber bouncy ball violently against the trailer. We all stood in stunned silence as the trailer rocked from side to side on its wheels. The sound of the pings was joined by Hank's howling from the porch and the occasional bleat from inside the besieged trailer. I was pretty sure Gabe was mumbling something about ‘fucking goats’ next to me.

  Jack's forearm tensed under my hand, which was still clutching his arm like it was a life preserver. I kept my gaze fixed on the trailer, waiting for Godzilla to burst out and start breathing fire.