Chapter 3
Taylor
“I have plans already.”
“With who? Your other boyfriend?”
I hate how he calls Conner that. Crossing my arms, I glower so he can feel through the phone how fed up I am. Austin knows damn well that he’s in trouble with me and bringing Conner into this argument will only make things worse for him.
“Come on, Tay,” he groans impatiently. “You aren’t still mad about that weed shit are you?”
“It’s not weed shit. It’s dandelion tea. And it’s my business, Austin. Clients depend on me to provide specific products.” That I am once again reminding him of this is so infuriating.
“How many people do you know drink dandelion tea?”
“Enough to make me five grand a year.” And granted, that’s not a lot, but it’s not my only product. Besides, dandelions are free which means it’s pure profit. They’re also rich in vitamins A, K, C, and potassium and supports liver function.
Oh! I should try to start a dandelion tea trend online. One solid, viral video and I’d be set! Making a mental note to run that by my friend Grace, who is an influencer and knows everything about making money, I get my attitude back where it belongs.
Aimed at Austin.
“If you can’t support me, then we have a problem.”
“Babe, I do support you. I bought you that energy bamboo chime thing you wanted, didn’t I?
Wow. What level of standards is this? Was it nice of him to buy me a windchime? Yes, of course. But support isn’t a windchime. It’s…
“This isn’t going to work, Austin.”
“Okay. If you’re busy tonight, we can have dinner tomorrow then.”
“No. I mean us. This isn’t going to work between us, Austin.” Silence spreads across the phone line and I worry we’ve disconnected. “Hello?”
“I’m here.” His voice is cautious. Clipped. Quiet.
It makes me feel bad. We’ve been together for over a year, and it’s been great for the most part. Okay, it’s been good, not great. Breaking up with him over the phone seems wrong though. So cold and impersonal.
“Can we talk about this later?” he asks and I cave.
“Yeah. Sure.”
Every time we’re on the brink of splitting up, I don’t follow through with it. I always chicken out because Austin isn’t a bad guy. We just have different lifestyles that don’t match the way I wish they would.
The way…
Conner honks his horn as he leaves.
“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.
“Moon pickles, 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 the pickles, 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.”
“You stop 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.”
I freeze. “Con. Please tell me you didn’t plant the entire order tonight.”
He pretends to zipper his mouth shut.
“Bro. You can’t keep killing yourself like this.”
“I have to keep up.” He does the worst thing in the world and spins his baseball cap backwards.
Fuuuuck, this image of him laid back in my Adirondack chair, hat backwards, legs all manspread, eyes closed with his head tipped back in the moonlight is going in my spank bank.
“Go take a shower,” I say, a little more sultry than intended.
“I stink that bad, huh?”
“Yeah.” Nope. He smells like dirt and man and it’s making me crazy. I’m fresh out of a relationship, buzzed, and horny because my little self-care sesh pales in comparison to what I’ve heard Conner’s like in bed.
Girls talk. I’ve heard plenty.
“Fine.” He groans as he gets out of the chair like an old man. “Damn, my bones creak like a rusty hinged barn door.”
“I’ll have your dinner ready by the time you get out.”
“Mmkay.” He shuffles into my house through the back door and a minute later the bathroom light is on.
It’s on and the window blinds are up.
It’s on and the window blinds are up and I’ve got a perfect view.
He pulls his shirt off and tosses it into the corner where my hamper is. Scrubbing his face, he looks in the mirror at himself and pulls his eyelids open. Then he says something to his reflection before starting the shower.
My mouth waters.
Soon, the window fogs and I snap out of my stupor and grill the steak I had for him. By the time he’s back outside, I’ve got a whole ass meal sitting on my little patio table and a fresh beer with the top popped off.
“This looks amazing,” he says, hair still wet and curling. “Thanks.”
We don’t talk much, but that’s okay. I love the comfortable silence we share all the time. I love being in his space and I think he likes being in mine too. He’s crashed plenty of times on my couch, so I always have some of his clothes here. Like the grey sweatpants he’s in now.
Guess he couldn’t find the shirt that was literally on top of those sweatpants in my bottom drawer.
He inhales his food, and I make another mental note to talk to my dad about how much Conner is working.
It’s not healthy. Dad needs to hire more people…
and actually retain them. My dad’s picky and bossy and unrelenting.
It’s made his landscaping reputation be top tier for his clients but torture for his employees.
He’s eased up in his old age, but not enough.
Not if Conner still feels like he has to work himself to the bone every day.
This is bullshit.
“So… how was your day?” Conner drains most of his beer and leans back in his chair to stare at the fire.
“Good.”
“How’s Austin?”
I inwardly cringe. “Good.”
“You happy?”
With Conner here and my relationship with Austin over… “Yes.”
He smiles sleepily and keeps staring at the fire. His eyelids look heavy.
“What about you?” I ask.
“I’m always happy.”
“Are you still talking to what’s-her-name?”
“Bella?”
“Bella.” I hope I don’t sound like a bitch saying her name. She’s a nice person.
“Nah. We didn’t work out.”
Conner’s relationships are always short. He can’t keep a girl to save his life.
And I hate that I’m happy about that.
As Conner closes his eyes, I creep inside and grab a blanket from my couch and put it over him. He’s snoring already.
While he sleeps, I stare up at the stars and make a thousand wishes.
All of them about Conner.
When he jolts awake, it’s nearly sunrise. I haven’t slept because my head’s racing and he jumps up, confused and half out of it. “Shit, I’m late.”
“You’ve got time,” I say gently.
He scrubs his face and looks around like he just realized he’s in my backyard. “I fell asleep.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“I… shit.” He’s barefoot and… “Shit.”
Is rocking a serious case of morning wood.
Covering his crotch up doesn’t help. He’s too big down there. “I gotta get to work.”
“You have time. I’ll make breakfast and coffee.”
“No, I…”
“Sit down, Conner.” I use my big voice and point at the table. “Chill the fuck out. The sun is barely up.”
He crashes into the chair and buries his head in his hands. “Fuuuuck.”
I head inside and make coffee, tea, toast, scrambled eggs, and switch his clothes from the washer to the dryer. Then I bring out breakfast and we watch the sun come up together.
“Slow down or you’re going to kill yourself, Con.”
He doesn’t say a word.
Not as he eats.
Not as he gets dressed.
Not as he leaves to start another long day.
He honks his horn when he pulls away from my house and I shut the door and make a phone call. “Dad. We have to talk.”