Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
TODAY IS INCONVENIENT BONER DAY, ISN’T IT?
Dash
“Now what?” Keanu asks as he pulls into a parking spot in front of the Eat O Rama. We’re heading in for some sodas since today is, per usual, pretty slow where crime is concerned.
“Nothing,” I say as I obsessively check my phone. Relief smacks me when I see Sterling finally texted me back. He’s one of those guys who doesn’t give a shit about his phone. There are no bright icons for social media on his home screen, he doesn’t use it for music and he’s not a big texter.
And something about how content he is without all that shit is… hot.
I read his message and let out an uneasy sigh.
Keanu unclips his safety belt, pinning his blue eyes on me. “You helped that kitten out of the storm drain. And you’re still all… mopey ,” he says, opening his door while waiting for me to unclip. “You usually love that corny shit.”
“I know,” I sigh, staring at the toes of my boots. “It’s Juniper.” Finally, I look at my partner, finding a lopsided grin on his face.
“How’d I know?” He preens, outstretching a leg into the parking lot. Getting out, I meet him on the curb, his blond hair streaking over his eyes as a breeze hits. He tucks it back, nodding as he hits me with a knowing grin. “Finally gonna make a move?”
Strolling forward, the double doors of the market slide open for us. A clerk that went to school with Keanu nods hello. We nod back, veering toward the back of the store where the cold drinks are stored.
“Finally what?” I retort. “No way.” My lies crawl up my neck and tingle my cheeks but thankfully, we reach the case of cold drinks just in time. I revel in the cool that swamps my face after pulling the door open. Keanu reaches past me, grabbing two bottles of Coke by the necks.
“Bro, you’re so super in love with her, just ask her out already,” he says coolly, passing me my drink as the door swings shut.
“I’m—” I stop myself, both my feet and words. Keanu halts a few paces up, tipping his head to the side.
“C’mon, man, don’t be dramatic. If we check out quick enough, we’ll get to the farmers market before all the good fudge is gone.”
Keanu is typically unhurried with the exception of farmers market day. He is motivated by sugar and pussy. And—world’s smallest violin here—I don’t want to stop another person in my life from having what they want. Catching up to him, I keep my voice low as a woman pushes her cart past me, giving me a shy smile.
“Badge bunny,” he says, hooking his thumb over his shoulder after we pass. “She was trying to eye fuck you,” Keanu points out in a whisper after we’re at the end of the aisle. “See, you’re in love with Juni. Guys in loooove never notice other women.”
I shake my head as we filter into the line. There’s only one checkstand because small towns, you know?
“Here’s the thing,” I tell him quietly —because small towns, you know? “Sterling has known her longer. They’ve been friends longer. If either of us should ask her out, it should be him.”
Keanu, with his aviators back on, drags them down the bridge of his nose with a finger. Peering over the top, he says, “Love isn’t first come first serve.”
I roll my eyes. “Stop saying love,” I retort, neck strained. “And if we both… like her, ” I say, dragging the words apart slowly, “then it’s shitty if I ask her out now. We’ve been hanging out together for two years, man.”
The woman in line ahead of us pays, and we hand our bottles of Coke to Martin, the man who has been checking groceries at the Eat O Rama as long as the store has been open, legend has it.
“Coffee’s better for ya,” he says, holding his hand out for the three dollars and twenty cents that Keanu fishes from his wallet.
“I don’t like coffee when it’s hot. Makes me get sweaty,” Keanu replies, passing him three one-dollar bills and a quarter. “Keep the change,” he says, pushing his aviators up the bridge of his nose.
Martin drops a nickel in the plastic “HELP FEED FAMILIES” box. “Generous. Thank you.”
We edge outside into the sun and enjoy the satisfying whoosh as we twist our Cokes open. “I’ve been getting this sense from Sterling lately that he’s… I don’t know… maybe down ? And I wonder if he and Juni had time without me, maybe it’d cheer him up. He deserves that.”
I tug my own shades over my eyes, hiding how far away I go for a moment while sipping my cold drink, envisioning Sterling climbing over a naked Juniper, sliding what is likely a perfect cock into the softest, sweetest place between her legs. Another burning sip of carbonation and I add, “I’m telling him tonight that he needs to go for her. He should ask her out.”
“What if they actually do, though?”
I shrug. “That’s what I want.” My stomach sours.
“Now, I mean, how you gonna feel if they do go out?” he asks after a belch tears from his chest, echoing under the eaves of the grocery store.
Ignoring the pain that sluices from me at just the mention of them together, I shrug. Envisioning them fucking is a turn-on, but imagining their hands linked in daylight not in the throes of passion, it hurts. It’s confusing that imagining them together in my mind feels both right and wrong. They’d make a good couple. Jealousy is natural. “Fine. Seeing two friends happy together is… good.”
Keanu claps his hand on my shoulder. “Are they just friends, though?”
“My best friends,” I correct, because it’s true.
“Here’s the thing, man, I’m thinking you love Juni. Right? And you have for a while. I’ve been letting you swim in denial because no harm, no foul. And I’m no love lifeguard. But this idea of Sterling and Juni getting together. It doesn’t make sense.” He smirks as he moves toward the squad car, grabbing and tossing our now empty Coke bottles in the trash on the way. “Completely whack.”
Inside, the AC returns, blasting us as he peers at me. “I think, though, my man, you’re in deeper denial than I realized.”
“ Deeper ?” I question, not denying his observation about me loving Juni.
“That’s what she said,” Keanu replies with a snort. “And yeah. Because I also don’t think Juni is the only one you got it bad for.”
I blink at him, lost and completely confused. In my mind, I sift through the very short list of women I’ve dated in Bluebell.
Meg.
Never went beyond three dates. “I’ve been on three dates in two years, dude. I have no clue what you mean.”
“Sterling,” he states simply while fidgeting with the AC vents.
“What?” I retort, sinking against the locked door to glare shockingly at him. “I don’t have it bad for Sterling. He’s my roommate. He’s my best friend.” And he’s a man , but I don’t say that because obviously Keanu knows. Instead I say, “And I’m not gay.”
Reversing the cruiser, Keanu glances my way once we’re driving on open road. “No, you’re not. You’re bisexual, or some variation of that. Either way, what does it matter what label you’re wearing? Sterling’s dope. You looove him. It’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t—” I start. “I’m not—” I attempt a response but no rebuttal comes. Saying that I don’t love him feels wrong, but if I admitted I did like him it would be a big fucking deal. Instead I stay quiet, keeping my attention on the landscape that whips past the window. Keanu drives toward Goode’s.
After parking, he runs in and I choose to stay in the cruiser. Being alone can sometimes be my favorite thing, so I can get lost in my thoughts without any distractions. Like returning to a dream, trying desperately to sink back into sleep where you can find the same ethereal fantasy. I think about what Keanu said as I watch people in Goode’s through the windows that separate us.
The same vision from earlier flashes through my mind.
Sterling fucking Juniper.
Only this time, I squeeze my eyes shut, altering the fantasy, this time envisioning Juniper next to me on the bed, our naked hips pressed together. Above us, Sterling hovers, his large frame swaying, radiating desire. My eyes fly open as I grow hard, my erection poking against the tight fabric of my work chinos.
“Fuck,” I exhale, my heart racing. I always thought picturing them together or noticing things I like about Sterling was all just part of our unique relationship. Not my sexual evolution.
But now, with a painfully obvious erection keeping me rooted to the cruiser seat, I think Keanu may be right.
Maybe I do want Sterling for real.
During the summer, the farmers market does mid-week pop-ups, like today. Juniper’s brother-in-law started, runs and hosts the market. It’s an important tradition to their families.
Sterling hasn’t missed a single one and since I’ve been able, neither have I.
My limbs grow heavy, the sensation of hot sand spreading through them like lava through earth as we pass the rows of cars on Dolly and Hudson’s property. Not a single one of them are the large, fully loaded, clean white truck that Sterling drives. I get out my phone, searching for a message from him that he’s sick, or running late, or any other explanation as to why he isn’t here.
He’s always here.
But there’s nothing but our last message, agreeing to our talk tonight.
“Up there,” I advise Keanu, who dips the cruiser into a spot tucked under an oak tree near Juniper’s family barn. He parks the car, kicking up dust in his wake as he beelines for the fudge booth.
I shake hands with Deuce, say hello to Hudson, then make my way to his booth, buying a liter of strawberry milk. After she chats with one of the girls helping her, Dolly makes her way to me, a pink-cheeked baby girl on her hip.
“Hey ya, Dash.” She smiles, giving me the same perfect grin that her older sister wears. Her eyes dip to the sweating jug of milk cradled in my arm. “Got your favorite, I see.”
I nod. “Yeah. I made some chocolate sandwich cookies last night.” I hold up the jug. “This is my dunking milk.”
Her eyes widen. “That sounds amazing.”
“Choc-y cookie?” her daughter Honey repeats, curling her chubby little hands around her mommy’s neck as she sinks against her shoulder.
“I’ll bring you some, Honey girl,” I tell the little cherub, wiggling the tip of my finger into her belly. She squeals with delight, and Dolly smiles.
“Juni’s at her booth,” she says, passing me a knowing smirk. We’ve only ever been friends, me and Juni, yet Dolly has always looked at me like she’s aware of my feelings for her sister.
“Thanks, Dol.” My radio chirps about a shift change in dispatch, but I reach up and quiet it as I approach Juniper’s booth, my heart already racing. Stepping around a woman with a bag of oranges and a jug of milk, Juniper comes into view. Her long dress swishes with the light breeze as she focuses on carefully facing her jars, making sure the labels are aligned. Goldenrod hair in a braid fit for a queen draped over her shoulder, I can’t help but smile when I notice the smattering of purple stains on her white dress. She’s made jam in that dress, and for whatever reason, that bricks me up a little.
Today is inconvenient boner day, isn’t it?
Stepping beneath the canopy, I smile, reaching up to push her braid off her shoulder. “Hey,” I greet softly. Her green eyes lift from the jars, and she squeals when she sees me, rushing around the side of the booth for a hug.
We hug, and I bury my nose in her hair, basking in the scent of fresh berries and simmering sugar. We break apart and she taps the jug of milk in my hand. “Dunking milk?”
I nod. “Yeah. For those homemade Oreos I made.”
“Save me some!” She beams, circling back to the other side of her booth.
I survey the jars on the table, pointing to my favorite flavor, Strawbarb . “I’ll take a jar,” I say, using my free hand to fish my wallet from my back pocket.
She laughs. “You get 12 jars a month, Dash.”
“Sterl and I get 12 jars,” I clarify, “and I really love jam.”
Her eyes shine as her plump lips part, like she wants to say something. I wonder if she knows that my love of jam is a metaphor.
She passes the jar to me after I pass her my bills. Then, as if she only just processed my comment, she puts her hands on her hips, confusion lining her forehead. “Where is Sterling?”
Clutching the edge of her table, she leans over her booth, peering through the groups of people, searching for him. We both know if he were here, he’d be right here.
Accepting he’s really not here, her shoulders droop, sadness visibly weighing her down. Her reaction erases any lingering doubt.
They should be together.
She should be with a Bluebell lifer, just like herself. A man with longstanding roots, one who doesn’t have a job that puts his life at risk, a man who has arms built for protection and comfort alike.
I’m just wasting their time being a third wheel they can’t get rid of, and they’re both just too nice to tell me to kick fuckin’ rocks.
Hit the road.
Get. The. Fuck. Out.
“I gotta run, Juni,” I tell her, stepping back from the booth as I find Keanu in the crowd. He has his fudge, which means we have no reason to stay. “Have a good afternoon. Text me later.”
She smiles, but disappointment keeps her eyes from shining.
In the cruiser, I sit quietly, unable to stop thinking about Sterling and Juniper.
I couldn’t see it before, through my own rose-colored glasses, but now I know for sure that tonight’s talk has to happen.