Chapter 9
NINE
Jade
It’s been a long day, and I’m looking forward to going home and spending the rest of the night on my couch. Maybe with Meyer, if I’m lucky.
I smile as I think about him. He’s been on my mind all day. Every time I think about our night together, I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. It was…everything. It was better than I hoped for my first time.
My body heats, and I squirm in the driver’s seat as I replay all the things he did to me last night.
Maybe I can get him to give me a repeat performance, I think with a smile as I turn onto our street.
My smile widens when I pull into my driveway and see Meyer sitting on my front porch waiting for me.
“Hey!” I call as I climb out of my car.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing over here?”
“Missed you.”
“Yeah?”
He grunts, and I grin.
“How was your day?” he asks as he takes my bag.
“Good. I got to oversee some new trees being planted up on the east ridge.” I point towards the forest where I spent most of my day.
“Sounds fun.”
“It was. How was your day?” I ask as I unlock my front door and head inside.
“Boring.”
“What did you do?”
“Hung out around the house. Chopped some more firewood. Talked to an old friend.”
“Yeah? Who?”
“You don’t know him,” he says dismissively.
I roll my eyes. “Right, but does that matter? Tell me about him.”
“Why?”
“I’d like to know more about you and your friends.”
He crosses his arms and looks out the window at his house. “His name’s Luca.”
“Uh-huh. And he was also a Marine?”
“No.”
I wait for him to go on, but he doesn’t elaborate.
“Navy?” I guess.
“He’s an Army Ranger, but he’s getting out.”
“Oh, was he hurt?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s good…”
Meyer grunts, and I lose my patience.
“Are you going to see him?”
“He’s coming here. Turns out his brother lives in Wolf Valley now.”
“Small world. Who’s his brother?”
“Milo Wright. He’s a firefighter.”
“When’s he coming here?”
“Soon.”
Oh, my god. I want to scream but force a smile instead.
“It’ll be good for you to have another friend in town,” I say as I set my things down. I grab a can of Coke from the fridge. “Do you want one?”
“Sure.”
I pass him a can and watch as he takes a long drink.
“What else did you do today?”
“Nothing.”
I sigh. My good mood is officially soured. Is this what I want? Meyer is so closed off. If I ask him for even the smallest detail, he clams up. He won’t talk to me about anything. Not his friends, his time in the military, his past. Is this how our relationship will be? And if it is, is this what I want from my partner? To constantly be in the dark. To always have to carry the conversation and feel like I’m pulling teeth to get the tiniest detail.
“How come you never want to talk?” I ask him quietly.
“Not much of a talker,” he says, taking another drink of his pop.
“Right.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks, finally picking up on my annoyance and the tension in the room.
“I hate feeling like I’m nagging you every time I try to get you to tell me anything. I get that we don’t know each other that well, but I’m trying. I’d like to know you and for you to trust me. But I feel like that’s not what you want.”
“Because I haven’t spilled my guts?” he asks, frowning hard.
“It’s not spilling your guts!” I snap. “I’m asking basic questions and you make me give you a reason why I want to know and practically beg before you answer.”
“That’s me,” he says, his hands tightening to fists on the countertop.
“I guess I was hoping it would get easier. That you would trust me and want to build something with me.”
“Who’s saying I don’t?”
“You! I’m telling you how I feel, and you’re giving me nothing.”
“You knew how I was before you slept with me.”
“Wow.”
He glares at me, his green eyes flashing.
I glare back. “I want someone who tries. Someone who trusts me.”
“I’m trying.”
“No, you’re not.”
We stare at each other, and I’m suddenly exhausted.
How did today go from the best of my life to this?
“I think you should go,” I whisper.
Meyer’s lips flatten into a thin line. He gives me one last look, turns on his heel, and stalks out of my house. The door closes quietly behind him.
I sag against the kitchen counter. Tears spill onto my cheeks as I think about how badly that conversation went.
Did I mess everything up? Should I have been more patient with him?
I stare at nothing as I figure out what to do next.
Nothing .
I told Meyer how I felt. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t want to talk to me or open up. What happens now is up to him.