Page 48 of Thirst For Me
However, Layne isright there, so instead of asking any follow-ups, I smash a couple of strawberry-shaped stamps on a buy-ten-smoothies-and-get-one-free card and thrust it at Kaylie. I force my best customer-service smile and send them off with a bright “Great to see you! Have a wonderful night!”
“Thank you!” Kaylie calls out as her dad takes the hint and guides her out of the shop.
“See you, Sierra,” he says, as I busy myself wiping down the counter in front of me.
Sophie flips the sign toClosedbehind them and locks the door.
“Are you kidding me?” I semi-shout at her. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah. What a great kid.”
“Notthat. The part about how Mason keeps talking about me.”
“But we already knew that, right? He’s probably telling everyone he sees to boycott us.”
“In front of his niece? That doesn’t sound like what she meant.” But whatdidshe mean? She seemed to think I might come over to their house again.
“You’ve been polishing that spot on the counter for a very long time,” Sophie says a moment later. “Just so you know.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I think you may be reading into things, hon.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Because you have a crush on the enemy.”
I toss my rag at her. “Stop.”
When we lock up for the night and leave, Mason is in the bar parking lot with his friends Jace and ... Ethan? I can’t remember his name. The other hot one, who looks like he should be in the military: muscles, commanding air, tight-cropped hair. Jace straddles a motorcycle, a big, black Harley, and they’re gathered around it, talking loudly, laughing.
Mason looks right over at me—and stops smiling.
“Okay, I’ve seen his brother,” Soph mutters to me. “And those are his friends? Shiiit. Is there something in the water around here?”
“I know. I think it’s the cider,” I mutter back as we climb into my van and get the hell out of there.
“I wouldn’t call it a crush, per se.” I’m standing on the back porch of the Cozy Cottage, smoking weed with my best friend that she procured from some random farmhand because Sophie Moore is resourceful like that.
She breathes out a plume of smoke and smirks at me. “Then what would you prefer we call it?”
I gaze past the thicket of trees that surround most of the cottage. The back porch is the best thing about the cottage, really. Fromhere, there’s a clear view of row upon row of apple trees. June’s, and beyond, the ones that belong to the Grant family next door.
And beyond those, the water, where dark humps of land, the Southern Gulf Islands and the Saanich Peninsula, look like sea creatures slumbering in the dusk.
The sun is going down and it’s a real bummer inside the dank little cottage after dark. Plus, I saw two spiders in there last night. I need to spring for some new lamps at a yard sale or something. And maybe inspect every inch of the walls, floor, and ceiling for cracks. I can’t room with spiders.
I take a drag from what’s left of the joint and try to explain my fucked-up feelings toward Mason Grant. “It’s more of a lust situation. I would do him,ifhe had the completely same body but an entirely different personality.”
Sophie considers this seriously. “Whose personality?”
I think on that long and hard as if itisserious business—becauseweed—and finally say, “King Kong.”
My best friend cackles. “What the hell, Si?”
I shrug. “He knows what he wants. He literally, like, climbed the Empire State Building for her.”
“I’m not sure you’ve actually seen any of the movies ...”
“And I don’t mind a big, burly grump. As long as he’d move mountains forme.”
“This is disturbing information. How are you even gonna fuck with a giant—”
