21. Roderick
RODERICK
“Taste this, Roddy,” Audrey says, passing me a tiny cup. “You’re driving, right? That’s why I gave you such a small pour.”
“I am driving,” I admit. “And not looking to get drunk anyway.” Not after last night’s fiasco. “But look at me, getting out two nights in one week,” I say, sipping my excellent cider. The flavor is deep and a little bitter. It’s like nothing I’ve tasted before.
“Party animal,” she says with a wink. “And you definitely need a slice of this pie.”
She shoves a plate in my free hand, and I have to finish the cider in order to take the first bite. “God, that’s good.”
Audrey winks. “Ruth! Come and meet Roddy Waites, our new baker.”
“Nice to meet you, honey,” says the middle-aged woman who hurries over. “I’m Ruth Shipley.”
“Mother to Griffin, Dylan, May, and Daphne Shipley,” Audrey clarifies. “Aunt to Kyle and Kieran.”
“That’s a lot of kids,” I say without thinking. Then I offer her my hand.
“There were days when it felt like too many,” Ruth agrees with a smile as we shake. “Would you like another piece of apple pie? Just don’t tell me if it’s not up to snuff.”
“Oh, please,” Audrey says with a grin. “Her pie is exquisite. I’ve seen wrestling matches over the last piece. Ruth—I think I told you that Roderick is teaching me about sourdough.”
“Yes! I’ve already sampled your wares,” Ruth says. “I ate a pretzel that Audrey brought me, and it was divine.”
“Thank you!” I feel a rush of satisfaction. “I’ll make another batch tomorrow.” There’s nothing better than hearing praise over your work. “I might experiment with pretzel bagels. And pretzel sticks with dipping sauces.”
“That sounds decadent. Did you say your last name is Waites? There’s a couple by that name at our church in Colebury.”
“Ah.” Just like that, my appetite dies. “Those would be my parents.”
“I see the resemblance. I don’t know your parents, though, except by name. They must not stick around for the coffee hour very often.”
“Well,” I say slowly. “I wouldn’t know. We’re not in touch.”
“Oh,” she says, looking startled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“It’s their choice,” I add, because I don’t want Kieran’s aunt to think I’m a monster.
Also, I kind of need to know the Shipley stance on queer dudes.
I’m curious what Kieran is up against if he decides to pursue men.
The way he kissed me makes me think that he will.
“My parents kicked me out because I wouldn’t consider conversion therapy. ”
Ruth Shipley recoils. “What? Why?”
“They don’t want me to be gay,” I add, just in to clear up any ambiguities.
“I don’t see how that’s up to them,” she says, her face full of understanding. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
Now I feel like a drama queen. “No, it’s fine. Just putting that out there so you won’t greet them on Sunday and expect a friendly response about me.”
She flinches. “Not everyone at church feels that way. God doesn’t make mistakes.”
“Good to know,” I say quickly, because I need to parachute out of this conversation. For Kieran’s sake, I hope the whole Shipley clan shares Ruth’s viewpoint. Kieran deserves better than what I get at home.
Everyone does.
I listen to some fiddle songs and consider my departure. Kieran is on the other side of the bonfire casting fuck me eyes in my direction. Maybe it’s cowardly of me to avoid him, but what’s the alternative? He and I need to have a conversation, and this is neither the time or place.
As soon as Kieran walks off toward the cider house, I carry my plate into the house and say my goodbyes. “Wonderful party, Ruth,” I say, tucking my plate into the dishwasher. “Thank you for having me.”
“Come back anytime!” she says. “We have a big dinner most Thursdays. Come with Audrey sometime.”
“Sounds like fun.” I make my excuses and slip out into the dark. I head down the gravel drive, away from the music and the party. Seeing as I was the last to arrive, my car is at the end of a long line of pickup trucks.
It’s a long driveway, and I start wondering whether I could be snatched up by a bear or a coyote before I reach my Volkswagen. Bears hibernate, right? So I’m probably safe. Coyotes, though. And are there wolves in Vermont?
Just as I’m thinking these thoughts, a loud hoot erupts from somewhere nearby in the darkness, and I startle violently. “Holy shit,” I curse, hurrying my pace toward the car.
That’s when I see the orange glow of a cigarette. There’s someone leaning against my car. And from the sound of the warm chuckle he lets out, I can tell it’s Kieran.
“Don’t laugh,” I mutter. “I forgot how to be a country boy.”
“Sorry.” His voice is a soft caress, and I hate myself for wanting to roll around in it a little longer.
Telling him to fuck off is going to hurt both of us. “Did you need a ride or something?”
The cigarette moves as he shakes his head.
“Just enjoying a cancer stick against my car?”
“Something like that.”
“You got another one?”
“Think so.” I make out the flash of the wrapper as he pulls a pack out of his pocket. “I took these off my brother.”
“I’ve never seen you smoke before.” He holds a cigarette out, and since my eyes are finally getting used to the dark, I can see well enough to take it.
“Smoking is spendy.” His rugged face is illuminated as he lights my cigarette. “I’m too cheap to get cancer.”
“Same.” My only use for cigarettes these last few years was to give my hands something to do while I waited for Brian to chat up the important people at parties.
I’m not doing that anymore.
“So what’s the story?” Kieran frowns around his cigarette and looks hot doing it. But I will be strong . Celibacy is my new middle name. Roderick Celibacy Waites . It has a nice ring to it. “You’re avoiding me tonight.”
“Maybe a little,” I admit, exhaling into the crisp air. “I mean—I’m flattered that you’re giving me the fuck-me eyes. And I’m glad you’re not freaking out about our little drunken thing last night.”
“Our little drunken thing ,” he repeats slowly.
“Yeah, we shouldn’t have done that.”
“Huh. Well, I really enjoyed it. But I guess you didn’t,” Kieran says flatly.
“Hey—that was not the issue.”
He snorts. “Then what is? Did I do something wrong?”
“No way . It’s me who’s the fuckup.” Isn’t that obvious? “It’s not okay to jump your drunk, horny roommate.”
“Really? Even if he wants a repeat?”
“Even then.” I take a puff and try to explain.
“See, I have a bad track record. I threw myself at you, with no thought of the consequences. I’ve done this before, too, and then I can’t figure out why I keep blowing up my own life.
For once I have to stop being impulsive, and act like a damn adult.
There aren’t enough bakeries in America to hire me every time I fuck up. ”
Kieran narrows his eyes. “So you’re the one who’s freaking out after last night? That makes no sense.”
“Yeah, I know. But that only proves that I’m the asshole here. And I’m sorry, okay? But when I said we shouldn’t fool around, I was right.”
“First you said you could. And last night you said you couldn’t. And then you did it anyway,” he points out.
“Yup.” I nod vigorously. “See? That’s how it goes with me.
Bad decisions, followed by regret. Trust me—you won’t be missing anything if we don’t get together again.
I only seem like a good idea when you’re wasted and horny.
In the cool light of day, it’ll be easier for you to forget it ever happened. ”
“Really?” Kieran tilts his big, handsome face toward the sky. “Because I spent every daylight hour today thinking about you.”
I’m a praise junkie, so naturally my stomach flutters. Kieran can’t stop thinking about me . Then I give myself a mental slap. “Thinking is different than doing. Are you sure you even want to have this conversation with your family all around us? You seem like a very private person.”
“I am,” he admits. “I don’t share. But the thing about my family is that they don’t pay attention, especially when it comes to me. We could be making out like movie stars right now and nobody would notice.”
When he says “making out,” I just want to jump into his lumberjack arms and ask him to haul me off to a hay loft for naughty fun. There has to be a hay loft here somewhere, right? That’s my fantasy.
But that’s all it can be—a fantasy. I have to get my act together. “Sorry,” I say, crossing my arms. “Last night was super fun, but it can’t happen again. I’m probably not even going to stick around Vermont, you know? I’m a bad bet.”
He’s silent for a beat. “So that’s just it?”
“Yes,” I insist, even as my heart wavers.
The truth is that I like Kieran. A lot. Which only means that turning him down is the right thing to do.
He doesn’t need an impoverished, slightly desperate man hanging on his arm.
And I need to stop being that broke, needy person who left most of his self-esteem back in Nashville.
“I’ve got one question.”
Aw . He has questions about gay sex? “Go ahead and ask. I’ll tell you anything.”
“Will you still teach me to cook?”
I chuckle. “Yes. Absolutely. Cooking is the one thing I do reliably and that people appreciate me for. Definitely take advantage of the single perk there is to having me as a friend.”
“Not the only thing,” he says drily.
Sure, but my track record speaks for itself. And there’s no point in arguing. “What do you want to learn next?”
His grumpy frown becomes a little less grumpy. “I don’t care. You pick. Something meaty?”
Oh, the dirty jokes I could make right now. But I don’t want to send mixed signals. “You got it. I’ll come up with something.”
“Thank you,” he says. Then he turns and walks away so quickly that there isn’t even enough time to ogle his ass before he disappears in the darkness.
Which is really just as well.