Page 11 of Mountain Pine
“Is that Conner?”
“Yeah. He just stopped by to…” My heart clenches. “Get some moon pickles.” Austin scoffs in my ear and my rage blooms. “Don’t make that sound at me.
“Moonpickles, Taylor? Come on.”
“What’s wrong with my pickles?” Geez, I can’t do anything right, can I? Austin always has something to say about my things.
“He’s not there for thepickles, Tay.”
“You know what? Fuck you, Austin. You’re right. He didn’t come for the pickles. He came to drop off about six pounds of dandelions for me.”
“Six pounds.” He doesn’t sound impressed.
“That’s two huge five-gallon buckets packed to the brim,” I proudly announce. “And he did it without me even asking.”
“Gee. Wonder why.”
“Stop it.”
“When are you going to wake up, Taylor?That man is not your friend.”
“Oh my god.”
“He’s always wanted to be more than that.”
“Just stop it.”
“Youstop it. You’re either playing stupid or you are that stupid, but either way, you’re an idiot if you can’t see that he’s in love with you.”
“I’m done here.”
“Yeah. You know what? So am I.” Austin hangs up before I get the privilege and that just pisses me off even more.
What an asshole!
He’s always saying shit about Conner having more-than-friends feelings for me and it doesn’t piss me off, it hurts me.
Because I’d give anything for that to be true.
It’s ten at night before Conner pulls up.
I’ve had four beers and a burger… and three orgasms.
Please don’t ask me how I came today, after a breakup. I just…
Okay, fine. I went online and stared at my best friend’s account and got off on it. Happy? Geesh.
Listen, he’s a six-foot three, dark haired, chiseled to perfection, Greek god with eyes as brown as honey quartz. A girl can only be so strong.
“Hey.” Conner’s still in his work clothes and his boots are dragging.
Shit. He looks like he’s been through my dad’s wood chipper. “Hey.”
God, I’m so selfish. So stupid and selfish. I knew Conner was exhausted and I should have told him we’d reschedule for another day so he could go home and crash. Instead, I felt sorry for myself, and I want my best friend, and I didn’t care if he was tired or that I’m half blitzed on beer or that it’s way too late to be grilling him a steak.
“You hungry?”
“Mmph.” He plops into a chair in front of my little fire and closes his eyes. “If I ever see another rose bush again, it’ll be too soon.”
