by Angel Lawson
15
Holden
Even though it’s my truck, Sierra has no problem adjusting the radio station as we drive into town. She flips past country, rap, pop, and thankfully the talk-radio channel, finally settling on classic rock. She spins the volume dial, cranking it up, and leans out the open window, hair flying, singing.
I’ve never seen her so happy and I smile watching her.
“What?” she asks, noticing me noticing her. She rests her foot on the seat, revealing a long, bare leg.
“You must like this song.”
“It’s Led Zeppelin. Of course, I like this song.”
I’ve seen the songs on her playlist, the name of her business, her entrenchment in the Supernatural fandom. It’s weird, but cute—nice that she has something to cling to. “The Wayward Sun, that’s after the Kansas song, right?”
Her face lights up. “It is. Did you know that, or did you look it up or something?”
“I didn’t get it at first, but after looking at my mug this morning for like, thirty minutes, it clicked. What made you pick the name?”
She shifts toward me. “A couple of things, I guess. The shop and house used to be a boarding house, and really the whole town of Lee Vines is kind of a pit-stop on the way to somewhere else. It felt likely that some lost souls would wander in occasionally.” She pushes her hair behind her ear, but the wind makes it fly back out again. “Then there’s the Supernatural connection. Sam and Dean, the real Wayward Sons, traveling across the country, fighting demons and saving the world. Once the boys all moved in, it gelled even more. It just felt like a good fit.”
“I think it’s a very good fit.” I turn on the main road into town. “I also think what you did for Dexter and the other boys is pretty awesome. I could’ve used someone like you in my life when I was their age.”
“Maybe. Sometimes I think I was too hard on them. Maybe I should have given them more time to be kids.”
“You taught them self-reliance, taught them skills, and gave them a safe home. That’s the best thing for kids in that situation,” I say. She looks at me curiously and I grimace. “My house was a mess. My parents were divorced. My dad spent most of his day stoned, while my mom was too worried about giving me everything I wanted, never really thinking about what I needed. Our house became the party house—anything goes. Booze, drugs, sex. My mother turned a blind eye because she thought me being happy was the best thing for me. In reality, it was the worst. I stopped going to class and spent my days watching TV or fucking off. I got a couple DUIs and the judge came down hard on me and my mom. She sent me to a wilderness program and although it was hard, and at times I hated being there, it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Is that where you met Adrian?”
I nod, surprised she knows. “And Smith.”
“Huh.” She looks out the window. “By the way, if you’re trying to make me feel better about my skills as a quasi-foster mom, it’s working.”
I laugh. “You did what you could, Sierra, and we met those kids at Christmas. They seem to be in a good spot.”
She snorts and shakes her head. “They do, although they’re all sharing the same girlfriend, and I still don’t know what that’s all about.”
“They what?”
“I try not to ask too much about it but yeah, they all date the same girl.” She shrugs. “It seems to work for them.” I pull into the parking lot of the store. “Starlee has calmed them down, and honestly, I think they helped her deal with her own insecurities. Whatever it is, they’re happy, despite the fact I tried my hardest to ruin it for them.”
“You did?” I ask, turning off the ignition. “Why?”
“It’s complicated. I was worried about my foster care license—which was a valid concern. It did get suspended. But I know it wasn’t Starlee’s fault, and I know the boys love her. I do. It’s just unconventional, but they’re not exactly conventional guys.”
Four guys and one girl--the idea is definitely unconventional--but I think about the situation we’re in, the three of us living at Sierra’s house. The three of us all interested in her if we’re willing to admit it or not.
“You think they can keep it going—long term?”
“I don’t know, but if anyone deserves to give it a shot, it’s them.” She reaches for the handle. “They’ve been through hell and back and deserve someone that loves them, even if it’s just for a moment in time.”
I think about the possibilities—the options. Adrian, Smith, and I have been through a lot. A girl isn’t going to be the thing that splits us apart.
But, I think, watching Sierra hop out of the cab, I wonder if it could be something that brings us together.
16
Sierra
The smoke from the grill wafts into the house, making my mouth water. Holden had the idea while we were in town that we should cook out tonight. We bought the food we needed, and I pointed out the old charcoal grill under the house. The guys got to work.
I’m happy to be in the kitchen, out of the heat, prepping a salad to go with the meal. I like having the guys here, really like it, actually, but sometimes just being around them can be overwhelming.
I’m taking a sip of my beer when Smith walks in the room. He smells fresh, all the guys showered after either working on the house or heading into the Park for a few hours. Smith and I had done our best not to be alone since they’d moved in. Or at least, I’d done my best. I’d felt like he may be avoiding me all around, which made his appearance in the kitchen all the more surprising.
“Hey, uh,” he looks around me, eyes searching, “do you have any soy sauce?”
“I think so,” I say, opening the cabinet in front of me. I push through the bottles until I find the one I’m looking for. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” he says, taking it from me. I focus on the carrots on the cutting board, but notice he doesn’t leave.
“Something else?” I ask, feeling that tickle of nervousness I get when he’s around.
His jaw tenses. “I just want to thank you for letting us stay here. I know me being around isn’t easy.”
I frown. “What are you talking about?”
“I flipped out on New Year’s. That was on me—not you. I want to just make that clear.”
I set down the knife. “Smith, you came to my defense in the bar the other night. You’ve replaced shingles on my roof. You even sat outside in the car to make sure I was okay. We’re good. Just because you didn’t want to kiss me doesn’t make you a bad guy.” I turn back to the carrots. “It makes me a really bad judge of a situation, that’s all.”
Again, he doesn’t move other than the twitch in his jaw.
“You’re not a bad judge,” he says quietly.
My heart flips. “What?”
“Your judgement wasn’t off, Sierra. I wanted to kiss you that night. Big time. But when it happened, it was…I don’t know…a little more intense than I imagined. I’ve got a lot of set rules in my life. Rules that keep me on track. Rules I learned the hard way.” He swallows. “Kissing you was breaking those rules.”
Without another word, he takes the bottle of soy sauce and walks out of the kitchen as though he hadn’t just dropped a bomb. He’d wanted to kiss me too that night. I hadn’t misread the situation. The stuff about rules? God, he sounds like Dexter, too caught up in his own drama to enjoy the world around him.
Or at least, he used to be.
Dinner is nice; the sun slips behind the mountain, leaving cooler air. I zip up my hoodie and watch as Holden maintains the fire pit, tossing in new logs. The outside hadn’t fared so well without upkeep, but I’d been trying to spend a little time out here each day.
“Too bad it’s still hazy up there,” Adrian says, glancing toward the sky. It can take weeks for the view to clear after a fire that size. “But they did say we could go back to the cabin soon and see if there’s anything salvageable.”
No one seems very optimistic.
&
nbsp; Holden gathers the plates, and Adrian starts collecting bottles. They mention an early shift tomorrow in the Park, and a few minutes later Smith and I are alone on the deck, fire crackling between us.
“So,” I say, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ve heard that Adrian started life as a petty theft and Holden a gluttonous party boy.” I shift my eyes to Smith, who is poking the fire with a long stick, “What about you? What’s your story? How did you end up in the wilderness program?”
“I told you,” he says, eyes glowing from the fire, “I spent the first half of my life breaking any and every rule I could. It was like a compulsion. The counselors called it 'oppositional defiance'. I just wanted to do what I wanted to do.”
I take a pull on my beer. “What does that mean, exactly?”
He shrugs. “It means I started driving cars when I was twelve. Stolen cars. It means I took what I wanted, money, drugs, and jewelry. Stuff I didn’t want. I just thought it was fun. I liked the risk, and the adrenaline that came with it. I didn’t care if I got caught. I didn’t care if I was failing school, or that my parents had no idea what to do with me. I was impulsive. Daring.” He laughs. “Stupid as fuck.”
“But you finally stopped all that?”
“My parents tried everything. Boarding school, the military academy, finally they decided I needed a little fucking perspective. So, they sent me to a program in the middle of nowhere, and from there I was tossed in the middle of the woods, and told to figure out how to survive. There was no safety net, no soft bed, no warm shower or prepared meals. It was all on me. There was no one to defy but Mother Nature.” He glances to the hazy sky. “And no one is controlling that bitch.”
I lean back in my seat, listening and observing. He tells it all casually, without a trace of angst. He owns who he is—no excuses—and that is a little refreshing.
“What rule did you break when you kissed me?”
“The one where I don’t dump my baggage on other people.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You are just like Dexter.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My brother, he’s always making things more complicated than necessary.”
“The baker?”
“Yep. He’s gotten better, though.”
“How so?” He seems to genuinely want to know.
“By falling in love and not taking himself so seriously.”
“So, a woman changed him?” I hear the eye roll even if I can’t see it.
“No, a woman stood by him and he stood by her. Starlee taught him that he was more than his past and the anger and defiance that boiled under his skin.”
He stares at the fire and admits, “Maybe we are a lot alike.”
I may have had too much beer, because I make my own confession, “I kissed you that night because I liked you. You’re hot and I was looking for a little fun, not a commitment for the rest of my life.”
His eyebrow lifts. “You think I’m hot?”
“When you’re not being a jerk.”
He nods, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I’ll remember that.”
The fire crackles, but that’s not the only heat ebbing between us. I’m glad he can’t see how red my face is or how loud my heart is thundering. I don’t want to let him know that the dark side of him, the one he’s fought so hard to shed, is attractive to me, too. It’s probably the real reason I sought him out that night.
And it’s also probably the reason I’m sitting across from him now.
17
Adrian
I don’t know if it’s because I flooded the bathroom, or just because it needs to be done, but when the guys go into the Park for the afternoon, I volunteer to spackle the living room walls.
I’m not alone, Sierra is working alongside me, wearing one of those too-thin tank tops with a strappy bra that criss-crosses over her back, and shorts that graze her upper thighs.
It’s not helping me forget about that kiss. I’ve been replaying it on a loop. Her soft lips, the taste of mint on her tongue, the way she’d responded just before she pushed me away. The look in her eye wasn’t angry or upset—just cautious.
“Agghhhh,” she groans, and I look over. A large glob of spackle fell from the knife. “This job is the worst. So freaking tedious.”
“Yeah,” I agree, handing her a rag to wipe up the mess. “It’s not the best.”
“Hey,” she says, suddenly, “do you want to go on a hike with me?”
“A hike?”
“Yeah, you know, hopefully without the bears.”
“That would be awesome. I’d love to go on a hike with you.” I frown. “The Park isn’t allowing visitors yet.”
“Actually, there’s one not in the park that I think you’d like.” Her lips twist into a smile. “Wear something you can swim in.”
We clean up and change, meeting outside at the car. I drive and head toward the little local gas station with a surprisingly good deli. Sierra leans against the window, the tension I’d noticed in her earlier slowly easing away. Her hair is twisted up in a knot on top of her head, and she’s still wearing that tank, but the strappy bra has been replaced by the strings of a bikini. I notice she’s wearing the boots from when I found her lost in the park.
“Want to tell me where we’re going?” I ask, cranking the engine.
“Have you ever been to Star Falls?”
“No.”
“There’s this trail up near Lee Vines that leads to a waterfall.” She runs her hands over her thighs. “I haven’t been up there really since I left town, and I don’t exactly want to run into the guys, or anyone else I know.” She wrinkles her nose. “That’s why I asked you to drive.”
“I think it sounds great.” I’m surprised she’s taking me somewhere personal. Maybe she’s finally letting down some of those walls.
We don’t go quite into Lee Vines, turning off before we hit the one-light town. I sense her agitation as we get closer, her hands continuing to run up and down her legs. I reach over and take one, threading my fingers with hers. I expect her to pull away or flinch, but she doesn’t. Instead she tightens her grip, anchoring herself to me.
“You can park up here,” she says, after directing me through a few turns. I ease the truck on the edge of the dirt road. There’s nothing much up here. Just some burned-out forest and an old, dilapidated cabin. I eye it cautiously, the doors are off the hinges, and there’s trash littered all over the floor. Mostly beer cans.
“The teenagers come up and drink in there,” she says, walking past it. “Most of them have no idea about what’s just ahead.”
The sun burns overhead, but it’s above the lingering haze from the fire. At first, the hike is nothing special, just a creek and some low-lying brush, but slowly, as we get away from the burn line, the area turns increasingly lush and green. Ferns line the creek, and the trees that surround the path are strong and tall. I follow Sierra, absorbing how her shoulders relax with each step forward and her gait picks up. I study the long column of her neck and the way the hair curls at the nape. My eyes skim down her body, eyeing her slim waist and curved hips, down to her long, strong legs. I feel like a douche, checking her out like this, but I’m only human—and male—she’s hot. I’m ridiculously attracted to her.
The sound of rushing falls grows louder as we make the climb and there’s a break in the foliage as we reach an outcropping. I step next to her and take in the wide, flat stones. The flowing waterfall. The pools are deep and clear with round stones that line the bottom and the shore. It’s an oasis.
“Legend has it, the founder of Lee Vines asked his wife to marry him here.” She removes her backpack, dropping it on one of the flat rocks. She kicks off her boots. “I know for certain my brother and the guys brought Starlee up here for their first kiss.”
It’s a lot of information and I’m not sure why she’s sharing it, but it doesn’t matter much anyway. Sierra pulls her tank over her head, revealing a red bikini top that is more str
ings than fabric, and my brain stops functioning. Her body is perfect, her breasts round and firm. My fingers twitch, and I busy myself taking off my backpack and removing my shoes. When I look up again, she’s eased down her shorts. My heart stutters at the sight of her flat belly and curved ass. Jesus.
“How cold is the water?” I ask, watching her dip her toes in.
“Cold.”
I’ve built up a sweat, but most of all, I need to just cool off.
I pull off my shirt, and without the slightest hesitation, get in the cold, crystal-clear water. I duck my head, letting the cold water adjust my body temperature. When I look up again, I see Sierra watching me with those calculating, gray eyes.
I move over to a flat rock that’s hanging over one of the pools and hop up on it, letting my legs dangle over the edge. The rock is hot, warming my cold ass, and it’s my turn to watch as she eases into the water, inch by inch. Her skin pebbles, shocked by the cold, and her belly caves in reaction.
I’m going to have to get back in the water.
The rush of water from the falls creates a noise barrier, but all I hear is the beat of my pulse. “Thank you for showing me this place. It’s special.”
“You’re welcome. I thought you may like it—plus I owed you a successful hike after the last one.”
She shivers and her nipples raise, peaked through the fabric of her top. I look away, but then look back. I can’t help myself.
“Here,” I say, offering her my hand. Maybe if she warms up, it’ll stop, and I can behave. She climbs out of the water and sits next to me, leaning back on her hands. Once again, we’re wet and in close proximity. This time there’s no one around to interrupt.
Her shoulder brushes mine and other than my building desire, I can’t help but think about how nice it is to just be here with her. Sitting side by side, enjoying the quiet of nature. It’s something I usually just share with the guys, but being with Sierra, it feels special. Like snapping a missing piece of puzzle into place.