16. Dove #3
Or someone , I absolutely didn’t say, knowing better.
I’d have to ease her into that particular conversation.
There were instant sore subjects for Reverie, and her ex, Zeke, was one of them.
It had ended in a fiery, heartbreaking shit show (of her own doing), and wasn’t something I wanted to dredge up for her if she was already feeling vulnerable.
I nodded understandingly instead. Because I could understand that feeling, that “missing something” (or someone ) feeling, perfectly.
My hand reached across the table for hers. I clasped it tightly and squeezed to remind her I was here for her no matter what.
“Do you think maybe you miss home?” I suggested lightly. “Your friends and family?”
I took that moment to really look at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed from emotion and lined with exhaustion. Faint shadows lingered beneath them, standing out against her olive skin, like this had been weighing on her for some time.
“I know you built a life in LA.” A fact I was immensely happy and proud of her for, even if had been one far from me. “But that doesn’t take away everything you left behind here, even if you gained it there.”
Her hand twitched in mine, a light, grateful squeeze, before she slipped it out of my hold to sit up and brush the hair back from her face.
I knew I was toeing the line for Reverie, who didn’t find it easy to lay herself bare—even to me.
That girl kept her feelings under tighter security than the Declaration of Independence.
“How’d you get to be so wise, Dove?”
Shrugging one shoulder casually, I joked, “Could be from all the trauma, but who knows?” I took a sip of my coffee to hide my wry smile.
Laughter escaped her. “God, I missed you.”
Emotion clogged my throat, and I choked out, “I missed you too, Rev.”
More than she’ll ever know.
“Don’t you dare.” She sniffed, pointing a finger at me in warning. “No crying!”
“Who’s crying?” I blinked the moisture from my eyes. “I’m not!”
“Let’s talk about something decidedly less upsetting.” She whipped her head from side to side, flipping her hair over her shoulders, and grabbed for her forgotten coffee, curling her fingers around the mug and tugging it back to her. “Like you and Josh.”
Wow, real subtle, Rev . I stifled a groan. Now it was my turn to bang my head on the tabletop, but I resisted the urge.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I insisted.
“Uh,” she drawled, her eyes widening skeptically. “That little display as I drove in says otherwise.”
Shit.
“He was just getting a bug out of my hair,” I claimed with a dismissive handwave, taking a sip of coffee that instantly churned in my stomach.
“Is that what they’re calling it ’round these parts nowadays?” she asked, exaggerating the slight twang in her voice.
“Oh, shut up,” I snapped, knowing I was backed into a corner. But the bite wasn’t there— not when I was more focused on hiding my face, so she couldn’t read it like the expert she was.
“Ohhh , defensive!” Her eyes sparkled knowingly. Shit, maybe too knowingly. “I totally called it the moment you said he was back. Deets, girl, deets .”
“There are no deets ,” I denied quickly, although I trusted Reverie.
She was the only person who knew about my true feelings for Josh, and she had never once made me feel like a freak for them.
She’d had my back since I moved to this town, so different from the city I was used to.
I’d been drawn to the girl who wasn’t “country” enough for Haven, building camaraderie in our outsider-ness, even if I’d somehow managed to fit in better than her over the years.
There were, in fact, deets. And honestly? I wanted to talk to her about it. I needed advice
“We… He’s…” My mouth opened and closed like a fish. Ugh.
Words failed me when it came to describing what had been going on since our parents’ funeral.
She raised her coffee in a toast, winking at me with a victorious smirk on her face. “Didn’t I tell you he’d be that good?”
I glanced out the window, checking to make sure Josh was far, far away and nowhere near enough to overhear this conversation. He was still out by the fence, and my heart gave a guilty pang.
“We haven’t done… that. But there’s…” I wavered, trying to find the right word for whatever was happening between us. “Something,” I admitted reluctantly.
She squealed, startling me. I shushed her quickly.
Reverie waved my caution off. “He’s too far away to hear.”
“That squeal was at dog-whistle decibels, Rev.”
Her smirk turned downright naughty, and I knew I’d just made a grave mistake.
“So, he’s a dog , now, is he? Woof. ” She glanced out the window in Josh’s direction, one eyebrow raised, before turning back to me. “I always pegged him as more of the ‘make love tenderly’ type, considering how boy-next-door he is.”
“You saw him—that’s not boy next door .” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
I pursed my lips together to stop anything else from slipping out, like how I found all the muscles he’d acquired while he was away to be incredibly distracting with how badly I wanted to lick them, or how much I burned to see what he had hidden underneath the too-tight shirts he’d been wearing.
She tilted her head, considering. “You’re right. He’s got more of a call me Daddy vibe now.”
“ Rev !” I gasped incredulously. Her words echoed in my head, a hot, prickly wave of desire rushing over me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
Reverie cackled, delighted. “ Ohhh , so that does it for you, huh? They’ve got plenty of those in LA.” She sighed wistfully. “I’m gonna miss it.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “Not that I’m not going back—or staying here,” she amended hastily. “I mean?—”
She sighed, brows pinching tight as she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, worry and indecision haunted her eyes.
I hated seeing it there.
“Let’s go back to making fun of me,” I mumbled self-sacrificingly before taking another sip of coffee, which only added to how hot my internal temperature was, thanks to her… comments.
She smiled sadly. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”
I laid my hand out, palm up, and she laid hers down over mine, holding on tightly.
“Like two mismatched socks,” I teased, my chest both heavy and light at the same time, because while I was happy and thankful my best friend was home , it killed me that she was only back because she was struggling.
At least we had each other.
It took everything in me not to go check in on Josh, but Reverie held my attention, asking about Haven and what had changed since her last visit.
I knew it was her subtle way of trying to gain tails on Zeke, but I wasn’t much of a gossip, considering I hardly left the farm often enough to dig up news of any kind.
I’d attended community college after high school, gotten in a few of semesters before Mom had fallen sick, but it’d been abundantly clear that Gareth couldn’t run the farm and take care of my mother all by himself.
So, I did what any good stepdaughter would do and picked up his slack, putting my life on hold.
It wasn’t like he would call Josh up and ask him to come back home and help. He hardly uttered his son’s name after he left.
“You’re scowling,” Reverie remarked. “Why are you scowling?”
We’d migrated to the living room, the TV playing some random movie we’d turned on for background noise as we continued to catch up, facing each other on the couch.
I shook my head, untensing my muscles to relax back into the cushions. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothin’ don’t put that look on your face, sweetie.”
I crossed my arms, keeping stubbornly silent.
Rev tsked . “Don’t pout. Just admit you’re pining after Josh and be done with it.”
“I’m not”—I sputtered, indignant—“ pining !”
“ Totally pining ,” Reverie sang. “Babe, you already admitted something is there, and I’m trying not to pry, really, I’m not, but you keep drifting off in the middle of my rather riveting LA exploits with a look that has thinking about Josh written all over it.”
Now it was her turn to pout.
Guilt flooded me instantly—because she was right.
I was distracted with thoughts of Josh, wondering if he was secretly mad or annoyed that I was in here when I should have been out there.
Thoughts of how much his help could have been useful over the years, which then had me not feeling guilty because this was payback for him abandoning us, overdue labor.
Which was then followed by thoughts of that almost-kiss earlier, filling my stomach with butterflies as I wished I was back there with his large hand clasped around neck, those thick fingers threaded in my hair.
Ugh . I was a mess.
“Sorry, Rev,” I apologized. “I’m a mess.”
“Nah.” She shook her head. “You’re not. I’m just guilt tripping you so you’ll spill the details you teased me with.
I’m not mad; I’m nosey .” She studied me for a few moments before she said gently, “You’ve never acted like this before, Dove.
Not even when we were younger. Back then I guess you never made it seem that serious, like you knew it would never happen. ”
“Because it won’t!”
“Kind of seems like it is .”
She had me there. It was happening. I just had no idea why or how or what it even meant.
“I—” I didn’t know what to say. But I knew what I was feeling, so I started there. “I’m still so mad at him for leaving, Rev.” I blew out an uneven breath, collecting my thoughts. Reverie watched me patiently. Letting me take my time now, like I’d done for her earlier.
“I don’t know what we’re doing,” I admitted in a soft voice, my gaze on the worn leather of the sofa.
“What I felt was only ever supposed to be mine . My feelings. But I’m starting to realize that maybe it’s always been mutual and it’s freaking me out.
We can’t be together.” I looked up at her. “Can we?”
She remained quiet, as if she knew I didn’t really expect an answer, but her hazel eyes radiated love and support, so I kept going.